Poem by Alfred Tennyson

* * *

Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea;
The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape,
With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape;
But O too fond, when have I answer'd thee?
Ask me no more.

Ask me no more: what answer should I give?
I love not hollow cheek or faded eye:
Yet, O my friend, I will not have thee die!
Ask me no more, lest I should bid thee live;
Ask me no more.

Ask me no more: thy fate and mine are seal'd:
I strove against the stream and all in vain:
Let the great river take me to the main:
No more, dear love, for at a touch I yield;
Ask me no more. 

1. Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington
2. The Daisy, Written at Edinburgh
3. To the Queen (Revered, beloved — O you that hold)
4. St. Agnes’ Eve
5. The Miller’s Daughter

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