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MTA and
Barners&Novels
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Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ridged with azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
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| He clasps the
crag with crooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ridged with azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls, And like a thunderbolt he falls. |
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| Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892) | ||||||||||||||