A Slow Reading of Ulysses

Ulysses
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
It little profits that an idle king,By this still hearth, among these barren crags,Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and doleUnequal laws unto a savage race,That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.I cannot rest from travel: I will drinkLife to the lees: All times I have enjoy'dGreatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with thoseThat loved me, and alone, on shore, and whenThro' scudding drifts the rainy HyadesVext the dim sea: I am become a name;For always ro...