“Ellan Vannin”
Southern Highlands of New South Wales
“Here at the quiet limit of the world”
The woods decay, the woods decay and fall,
The vapours weep their burthen to the ground,
Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath,
And after many a summer dies the swan.
Me only cruel immortality
Consumes; I wither slowly in thine arms,
Here at the quiet limit of the world,
A white-hair'd shadow roaming like a dream
The ever-silent spaces of the East,
Far-folded mists, and gleaming halls of morn.
“Tithonus”
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The woods decay, the woods decay and fall,
the vapours weep their burthen to the ground,
And after many summers dies the swan.
Man comes and tills the fields and lies beneath,
Me only cruel immortality consumes: I wither slowly in thine arms,
Here at the quiet limit of the world
a white hair’’d shadow roaming like a dream
The ever-silent spaces of the East,
