The book The Last Tournament was written by author Tennyson Alfred Tennyson Baron Here you can read free online of The Last Tournament book, rate and share your impressions in comments. If you don't know what to write, just answer the question: Why is The Last Tournament a good or bad book?
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Fool, I came late, the heathen wars were o'er, The life had flown, we sware but by the shell-- I am but a fool to reason with a fool Come, thou art crabb'd and sour: but lean me down, Sir Dagonet, one of thy long asses' ears, And hearken if my music be not true. "'Free love--free field--we love but while we may: The woods are hush'd, their music is no more: The leaf is dead, the yearning past away: New leaf, new life--the days of frost are o'er: New life, new love to suit the newer day: New... loves are sweet as those that went before: Free love, --free field--we love but while we may. ' "Ye might have moved slow-measure to my tune, Not stood stockstill. I made it in the woods, And found it ring as true as tested gold. " But Dagonet with one foot poised in his hand, "Friend, did ye mark that fountain yesterday Made to run wine?--but this had run itself All out like a long life to a sour end-- And them that round it sat with golden cups To hand the wine to whomsoever came-- The twelve small damosels white as Innocence, "In honor of poor Innocence the babe, Who left the gems which Innocence the Queen Lent to the King, and Innocence the King Gave for a prize--and one of those white slips Handed her cup and piped, the pretty one, 'Drink, drink, Sir Fool, ' and thereupon I drank, Spat--pish--the cup was gold, the draught was mud.
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