Flower in the crannied wall,
I pluck you out of the crannies,
I hold you here, root and all, in my hand,
Little flower-but if I could understand
What you are, root and all, all in all,
I should know what God and man is.
More verses by Alfred Lord Tennyson
- Merlin And Vivien
- The Oak
- In Memoriam A. H. H.: 7. Dark House, By Which Once More I S
- The Holy Grail
- Guinevere