Observations placeholder
Tennyson, Alfred Lord - Mariana - With blackest moss the flower pots
Identifier
000213
Type of Spiritual Experience
Background
A description of the experience
Alfred Lord Tennyson – from Mariana
With blackest moss the flower pots
Were thickly crusted, one and all;
The rusted nails fell from the knots
That held the pear to the gable wall
The broken sheds looked sad and strange;
Unlifted was the clinking latch;
Weeded and worn the ancient thatch
Upon the lonely moated grange.
She only said, 'My life is dreary,
He cometh not', she said
She said 'I am aweary, aweary,
I would that I were dead'