The Lady of Shalott

Ulysses

It little profits that an idle king
By this still heart, among these barren crags
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees : all times I have enjoy'd

The Lady of Shalott
Alfred Lord Tennyson