Thro' all the circle of the golden year?
The Golden Year.
I am a part of all that I have met.[625:1]
Ulysses.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use,—
As tho' to breathe were life!
Ulysses.
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles whom we knew.