The Life and Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson: Works: v.1-2 [Poems] v.3. Experiments. The window. In memoriam A.H.H. Maud. Idylls of the king. v.4 Idylls of the king (Continued) v.5 The lover's tale. Ballads, and other poems. Sonnets. Translations, etc. Tiresias, and other poems. v.6. Queen Mary. Harold. v.7. Becket. The cup. The falcon. The promise of May. v.8. The foresters. Demeter, and other poems. The death of OEnone, and other poems. [IndexesMacmillan, 1899 |
From inside the book
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Page 14
... lost . And it would vex him even in his grave , If he could know his babes were running wild Like colts about the waste . So , Annie , now- Have we not known each other all our lives ? I do beseech you by the love you bear Him and his ...
... lost . And it would vex him even in his grave , If he could know his babes were running wild Like colts about the waste . So , Annie , now- Have we not known each other all our lives ? I do beseech you by the love you bear Him and his ...
Page 16
... lost ; for Enoch seem'd to them Uncertain as a vision or a dream , Faint as a figure seen in early dawn Down at the far end of an avenue , Going we know not where : and so ten years , Since Enoch left his hearth and native land , Fled ...
... lost ; for Enoch seem'd to them Uncertain as a vision or a dream , Faint as a figure seen in early dawn Down at the far end of an avenue , Going we know not where : and so ten years , Since Enoch left his hearth and native land , Fled ...
Page 17
... lost , ' he said , ' the ship was lost ! No more of that ! why should you kill yourself And make them orphans quite ? ' And Annie said ' I thought not of it : but - I know not why- Their voices make me feel so solitary . " Then Philip ...
... lost , ' he said , ' the ship was lost ! No more of that ! why should you kill yourself And make them orphans quite ? ' And Annie said ' I thought not of it : but - I know not why- Their voices make me feel so solitary . " Then Philip ...
Page 30
... lost ' ; Again in deeper inward whispers ' lost ! ' But Enoch yearn'd to see her face again ; ' If I might look on her sweet face again And know that she is happy . ' So the thought Haunted and harass'd him , and drove him forth , At ...
... lost ' ; Again in deeper inward whispers ' lost ! ' But Enoch yearn'd to see her face again ; ' If I might look on her sweet face again And know that she is happy . ' So the thought Haunted and harass'd him , and drove him forth , At ...
Page 67
... lost Nor greatly cared to lose , her hold on life . Last , some low fever ranging round to spy The weakness of a people or a house , Like flies that haunt a wound , or deer , or men , Or almost all that is , hurting the hurt- Save ...
... lost Nor greatly cared to lose , her hold on life . Last , some low fever ranging round to spy The weakness of a people or a house , Like flies that haunt a wound , or deer , or men , Or almost all that is , hurting the hurt- Save ...
Common terms and phrases
Alfred Lord Tennyson Annie answer'd arms ask'd Averill babe beän break breathe broke brows call'd Celt child cried Cyril dark dead dear death dream dropt Edith Enoch Enoch Arden ev'n evermore eyes face fair fall'n father fear fell fixt Florian flower flying follow'd girl golden half hall hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven honour hour king knew Lady Psyche land laugh'd Leolin light Lilia little birdie living look'd Lord maiden maids Melissa mixt morning mother moved night noble o'er once peace Philip Prince Princess Princess Ida proputty roll'd rolling rose round seem'd shadow shame shook silent Sir Aylmer sleep soul speak spoke star Stept stood sweet talk'd thee thine things thou thought thro turn'd vext voice wall of night watch'd wife wild Winter's tale woke woman
Popular passages
Page 310 - Speak to Him thou, for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet — Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.
Page 246 - HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns," he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Page 41 - I CHATTER over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow. I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
Page 232 - BURY the Great Duke With an empire's lamentation, Let us bury the Great Duke To the noise of the mourning of a mighty nation, Mourning when their leaders fall, Warriors carry the warrior's pall, And sorrow darkens hamlet and hall.
Page 42 - I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling, And here and there a foamy flake Upon me, as I travel With many a silvery waterbreak Above the golden gravel, And draw them all along, and flow To join the brimming river; For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever.
Page 156 - The splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story : The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Page 65 - So Leolin went; and as we task ourselves To learn a language known but smatteringly In phrases here and there at random, toil'd Mastering the lawless science of our law, That codeless myriad of precedent, That wilderness of single instances, Thro' which a few, by wit or fortune led, May beat a pathway out to wealth and fame.
Page 156 - Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear ! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going ! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing ! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying : Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O love, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river : Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever. Blow, bugle, blow,...
Page 213 - I strove against the stream and all in vain : Let the great river take me to the main : No more, dear love, for at a touch I yield; Ask me no more.
Page 289 - He seems as one whose footsteps halt, Toiling in immeasurable sand, And o'er a weary, sultry land, Far beneath a blazing vault, Sown in a wrinkle of the monstrous hill, The city sparkles like a grain of salt.