It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match’d with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892) English poet
Ulysses, l. 1-5 (1842)
Added on 26-Aug-10 | Last updated 26-Aug-10
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