Put In Words

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 measured language lie's 
The sad mechanic exercise 
Like dull narcotic's, numbing pain 

In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er 
Like coarsest clothes against the cold 
But large grief which these enfold 
Is given in outline and no more. 


                                     ---- Tennyson from In Memoriam