Swan flocks of lilies shoreward lying, In sweetness, not in music, dying.
'Courage!' he said, and pointed toward the land, 'This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon.' In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seeme' d always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Ulysses Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.Tennyson
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