Imagine my amazement of finding this thick, magical book at my local library bookstore for a whopping fifty cents. I imagine that no book in the history of books has ever been swooped up so quickly, and so well loved from the moment my eyes met its faded black and burgundy spine. Now it is mine.

I first met a copy of this book my freshman year of college in 1994. I remember poring over it for hours, writing down "The Sisters" in my notebook, puzzling over "Locksley Hall" and "In Memoriam A.H.H." There was so much inspiration back in those days, and it fueled the fire, so to speak.

Taking the book home, I was able to encounter the feelings I haven't felt since I was eighteen. Have you ever read "The Blackbird" aloud? Have you ever had someone read "Rosalind" to you in bed? Lush.

This book deserves a review, if only one. I adore Tennyson. Let it be known. ( )