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LORD ALFRED TENNYSON
English poet laureate
(1809 - 1892)
 << Prev Page    Displaying page 15 of 18    Next Page >> 

The sweet forget-me-nots,
  That grow for happy lovers.
      - The Brook [Forget-me-nots]

O Love, what hours were thine and mine,
  In lands of palm and southern pine;
    In lands of palm, of orange-blossom,
      Of olive, aloe, and maize, and vine.
      - The Daisy (st. 1) [Trees]

Where, here and there, on sandy beaches
  A milky-bell'd amaryllis blew.
      - The Daisy (st. 4) [Amaryllis]

Red of the Dawn
  Is it turning a fainter red? so be it, but when shall we lay
    The ghost of the Brute that is walking and hammering us yet and be free?
      - The Dawn [Freedom]

And is there any moral shut
  Within the bosom of the rose?
      - The Day-Dream--Moral [Roses]

For since he would sit on a Prophet's seat,
  As a lord of the Human soul,
    We needs must scan him from head to feet,
      Were it but for a wart or a mole.
      - The Dead Prophet (st. XIV) [Criticism]

Banner of England, not for a season,
  O Banner of Britain, hast thou
    Floated in conquering battle or flapt to the battle-cry!
      Never with mightier glory than when we had rear'd thee on high,
        Flying at top of the roofs in the ghastly siege of Lucknow--
          Shot thro' the staff or the halyard, but we ever we raised thee anew,
            And ever upon the topmost roof our banner of England blew.
      - The Defence of Lucknow [Flags]

The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul
  Of that waste place with joy
    Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear
      The warble was low, and full and clear.
      - The Dying Swan [Swans]

He clasps the crag with hooked hands;
  Close to the sun in lonely lands,
    Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.
      The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls:
        He watches from his mountain walls,
          And like a thunderbolt he falls.
      - The Eagle [Eagles]

He that runs may read.
      - The Flower (st. 5) [Reading]

Read my little fable:
  He that runs may read.
    Most can raise the flowers now,
      For all have got the seed.
      - The Flowers [Ability]

The bee buzz'd up in the heat,
  "I am faint for your honey, my sweet."
    The flower said, "Take it, my dear,
      For now is the Spring of the year.
        So come, come!"
          "Hum!"
            And the bee buzz'd down from the heat.
      - The Forester (act IV, sc. 1) [Spring]

Well, well, be it so, thou strongest their of all,
  For thou hast stolen my will, and made it thine.
      - The Foresters (act III, sc. 1) [Thieving]

. . . but while
  I breathe Heaven's air, and Heaven looks down on me,
    And smiles at my best meanings, I remain
      Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul.
      - The Foresters (act IV, sc. 1)
        [Independence : Soul]

Quiet, Robin, quiet!
  You lovers are such clumsy summer-flies,
    Forever buzzing at your lady's face.
      - The Foresters (act IV, sc. 1) [Wooing]

The dream
  Dreamed by a happy man, when the dark East,
    Unseen, is brightening to his bridal morn.
      - The Gardener's Daughter (l. 71) [Dreams]

Sighs
  Which perfect Joy, perplexed for utterance,
    Stole from her sister Sorrow.
      - The Gardner's Daughter (l. 249) [Sighs]

That a lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies;
  That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright--
    But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight.
      - The Grandmother (st. 8) [Lying]

But a bevy of Eroses apple-cheeked
  In a shallop of crystal ivory-beaked.
      - The Islet [Gods]

Go, little letter, apace, apace,
  Fly;
    Fly to the light in the valley below--
      Tell my wish to her dewy blue eye.
      - The Letter (st. 2) [Post]

Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies.
      - The Lotos Eaters--Choric Song (st. 1)
        [Music]

Music that gentlier on the spirit lies
  Than tir'd eyelids upon tir'd eyes.
      - The Lotos Eaters--Choric Song (st. 1)
        [Music]

The Lotos blooms below the barren peak:
  The Lotos blooms by every winding creek:
    All day the wind breathes low with mellower tone:
      Thro' every hollow cave and alley lone,
        Round and round the spicy downs the yellow Lotos-dust is blown.
      - The Lotos-Eaters--Choric Song (st. 8)
        [Lotuses]

"A day for Gods to stoop," . . . ay,
  And men to soar.
      - The Lover's Tale (l. 304) [Day]

A land of promise, a land of memory,
  A land of promise flowing with the milk
    And honey of delicious memories!
      - The Lover's Tale (l. 333) [Memory]


Displaying page 15 of 18 for this author:   << Prev  Next >>  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 [15] 16 17 18

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