Golden-hair’d Ally whose name is one with mine, Crazy with laughter and babble and earth’s new wine, Now that the flower of a year and a half is thine, O little blossom, O mine, and mine of mine, Glorious poet who never hast written a line, Laugh, for the name at the head of my verse is thine. May’st thou never be wrong’d by the name that is mine!
Return to the Alfred Lord Tennyson library , or . . . Read the next poem; To (Clear-Headed Friend)