Sir Alfred Lord Tennyson's "In Memorium" Sir Alfred Lord Tennyson's "In Memorium"

I sometimes hold it half a sin
To put in words the grief I feel;
For words, like Nature, half reveal
And half conceal the Soul within.

But, for the unquiet heart and brain,
A use in measured language lies;
The sad mechanic exercise,
Like dull narcotics, numbing pain

In words, like weeds, I wrap me o’er
Like coarsest cloths against the cold:
But that large grief which these enfold
Is given in outline and no more
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