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I.BURY the Great DukeWith an empire’s lamentation;Let us bury the Great DukeTo 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. II.Where shall we lay the man…
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. What Roman strength Turbia show’d In ruin, by the mountain road;…
I. O well for him whose will is strong! He suffers, but he will not suffer long; He suffers, but he cannot suffer wrong: For him nor moves the loud world’s random mock, Nor all Calamity’s hugest waves confound, Who…
Come, when no graver cares employ,Godfather, come and see your boy:Your presence will be sun in winter,Making the little one leap for joy. For, being of that honest few,Who give the Fiend himself his due,Should eighty-thousand college-councilsThunder `Anathema,’ friend, at…
Eyes not down-dropt nor over-bright, but fedWith the clear-pointed flame of chastity,Clear, without heat, undying, tended byPure vestal thoughts in the translucent faneOf her still spirit ; locks not wide-dispread,Madonna-wise on either side her head;Sweet lips whereon perpetually did reignThe…
Where Claribel low-lieth The breezes pause and die, Letting the rose-leaves fall: But the solemn oak-tree sigheth, Thick-leaved, ambrosial, With an ancient melody Of an inward agony, Where Claribel low-lieth. At eve the beetle boometh Athwart the thicket lone: At…
A Poem which Obtained the Chancellor’s Medalat the Cambridge Commencement MDCCCXXIX,By A. Tennyson of Trinity College [Printed in Cambridge Chronicle and Journal of Friday, July 10, 1829, and at the University Press by James Smith, among the Prolusiones Academicæ Præmiis annuis dignatæ et in Curiâ…
You did late review my lays,Crusty Christopher;You did mingle blame and praise,Rusty Christopher.When I learnt from whom it came,I forgave you all the blame,Musty Christopher;I could _not_ forgive the praise,Fusty Christopher.
IO darling room, my heart’s delight,Dear room, the apple of my sight,With thy two couches soft and white,There is no room so exquisite,No little room so warm and bright,Wherein to read, wherein to write. II For I the Nonnenwerth have…
As when with downcast eyes we muse and brood,And ebb into a former life, or seemTo lapse far back in some confused dreamTo states of mystical similitude;If one but speaks or hems or stirs his chair,Ever the wonder waxeth more…