And on her lover's arm she leant, And round her waist she felt it fold, And far across the hills they went In that new world which is the old: Across… - Alfred Tennyson

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And on her lover's arm she leant, And round her waist she felt it fold, And far across the hills they went In that new world which is the old: Across the hills, and far away Beyond their utmost purple rim, And deep into the dying day The happy princess follow'd him.