Alfred, Lord Tennyson - The Outcast lyrics

I will not see my Father's groves, They murmur deeply o'er my head Of sunless days and broken loves: Their shade is dim and dark and dead. There through the length of cool arcades Where noonday leaves the midnight dews, Unreal shapes of twilight shades Along sombre avenues, To Memory's widowed eyes would spring In dreamy, drowsy wandering. I will not seek my Father's hills, Their hue is fresh and clear and bright, What time the early sunbeams fills Their bush-clad depths with lonely light. Each broken stile, each wavy path, Each hollowed hawthorn, damp, and black, Each brook chatters noisy wrath Among its knotted reeds, bring back Lone images of varied pain To this worn mind and fevered brain. I will not seek my Father's Hall: There peers the day's unhallowed glare, The wet moss crusts the parting wall, The wa**ail wind is reveller there. Along the weedy, chinky floors Wild knots of flowering rushes blow And through the sounding corridors The sere leaf rustles to and fro: And O! What Memory might recall, If once I paced the voiceless Hall!