Alfred Lord Tennyson Poems

  • 1.  
    I envy not in any moods
    The captive void of noble rage, The linnet born within the cage,
  • 2.  
    Oh yet we trust that somehow good
    Will be the final goal of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will,
  • 3.  
    A voice by cedar tree
    In the meadow under the Hall! She is singing an air that is known to me,
  • 4.  
    Dark house, by which once more I stand
    Here in the long unlovely street. Doors, where my heart was used to beat
  • 5.  
    She is coming, my own, my sweet;
    Were it ever so airy a tread, My heart would hear and beat,
  • 6.  
    We were two daughters of one race;
    She was the fairest in the face. The wind is blowing in turret and tree.
  • 7.  
    Why do they prate of the blessings of peace? we have made them a curse,
    Pickpockets, each hand lusting for all that is not its own; And lust of gain, in the spirit of Cain, is it better or worse
  • 8.  
    For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could see,
    Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be;
  • 9.  
    Dear is the memory of our wedded lives,
    And dear the last embraces of our wives And their warm tears; but all hath suffer'd change;
  • 10.  
    How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream,
    With half-shut eyes ever to seem Falling asleep in a half-dream!
  • 11.  
    As thro' the land of eve we went,
    And pluck'd the ripen'd ears, We fell out, my wife and I,
  • 12.  
    Hateful is the dark-blue sky,
    Vaulted o'er the dark-blue sea. Death is the end of life; ah, why
  • 13.  
    Tho' Sin too oft, when smitten by Thy rod,
    Rail at 'Blind Fate' with many a vain 'Alas'' From sin thro' sorrow into Thee we pass
  • 14.  
    Thy voice is heard thro' rolling drums,
    That beat to battle where he stands; Thy face across his fancy comes,
  • 15.  
    Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
    Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
  • 16.  
    So was their sanctuary violated,
    So their fair college turned to hospital; At first with all confusion: by and by
  • 17.  
    O Swallow, Swallow, flying, flying South,
    Fly to her, and fall upon her gilded eaves, And tell her, tell her, what I tell to thee.
  • 18.  
    A prince I was, blue-eyed, and fair in face,
    Of temper amorous, as the first of May, With lengths of yellow ringlet, like a girl,
  • 19.  
    Is it you, that preach'd in the chapel there looking over the sand? Follow'd us too that night, and dogg'd us, and drew me to land?
  • 20.  
    'There sinks the nebulous star we call the Sun,
    If that hypothesis of theirs be sound' Said Ida; 'let us down and rest;' and we
  • 21.  
    Morn in the wake of the morning star
    Came furrowing all the orient into gold. We rose, and each by other drest with care
  • 22.  
    Now, scarce three paces measured from the mound,
    We stumbled on a stationary voice, And 'Stand, who goes?' 'Two from the palace' I.
  • 23.  
    As thro' the land at eve we went,
    And pluck'd the ripen'd ears, We fell out, my wife and I,
  • 24.  
    Come down, O maid, from yonder mountain height:
    What pleasure lives in height (the shepherd sang) In height and cold, the splendour of the hills?
  • 25.  
    The splendour falls on castle walls
    And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes,
  • 26.  
    My dream had never died or lived again.
    As in some mystic middle state I lay; Seeing I saw not, hearing not I heard:
  • 27.  
    Our enemies have fall'n, have fall'n: the seed,
    The little seed they laugh'd at in the dark, Has risen and cleft the soil, and grown a bulk
  • 28.  
    Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea;
    The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape, With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape;
  • 29.  
    At break of day the College Portress came:
    She brought us Academic silks, in hue The lilac, with a silken hood to each,
  • 30.  
    Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
    The flying cloud, the frosty light; The year is dying in the night;
  • 31.  
    Now is done thy long day's work; Fold thy palms across thy breast,
  • 32.  
    Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
    Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk; Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
  • 33.  
    Home they brought her warrior dead:
    She nor swoon'd nor utter'd cry: All her maidens, watching, said,
  • 34.  
    So closed our tale, of which I give you all
    The random scheme as wildly as it rose: The words are mostly mine; for when we ceased
  • 35.  
    With farmer Allan at the farm abode
    William and Dora. William was his son, And she his niece. He often look'd at them,
  • 36.  
    Will my tiny spark of being wholly vanish in your deeps and heights? Must my day be dark by reason, O ye Heavens, of your boundless nights,
  • 37.  
    I waited for the train at Coventry;
    I hung with grooms and porters on the bridge, To match the three tall spires; and there I shaped
  • 38.  
    'Wait a little,' you say, 'you are sure it 'll all come right,' But the boy was born i' trouble, an' looks so wan an' so white:
  • 39.  
    This morning is the morning of the day,
    When I and Eustace from the city went To see the Gardener's Daughter; I and he,
  • 40.  
    The Two Greetings.
  • 41.  
    ILIAD, XVIII. 2O2.

  • 42.  
    Thou third great Canning, stand among our best
    And noblest, now thy long day's work hath ceased, Here silent in our Minster of the West
  • 43.  

  • 44.  
    DEAR, near and true--no truer Time himself
    Can prove you, tho' he make you evermore Dearer and nearer, as the rapid of life
  • 45.  
    What am I doing, you say to me, 'wasting the sweet summer hours'? Haven't you eyes? I am dressing the grave of a woman with flowers.
  • 46.  
    O me, my pleasant rambles by the lake,
    My sweet, wild, fresh three-quarters of a year, My one Oasis in the dust and drouth
  • 47.  
    Dust are our frames; and gilded dust, our pride
    Looks only for a moment whole and sound; Like that long-buried body of the king,
  • 48.  
    Warrior of God, man's friend, and tyrant's foe,
    Now somewhere dead far in the waste Soudan, Thou livest in all hearts, for all men know
  • 49.  
    Doubt no longer that the Highest is the wisest and the best, Let not all that saddens Nature blight thy hope or break thy rest,
  • 50.  
    This morning is the morning of the day,
    When I and Eustace from the city went To see the Gardener's Daughter; I and he,
Total 544 poems written by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Poem of the day

Thomas Moore Poem
Sing, Sweet Harp
 by Thomas Moore

Sing, sweet Harp, oh sing to me
Some song of ancient days,
Whose sounds, in this sad memory,
Long-buried dreams shall raise; --
Some lay that tells of vanish'd fame,
Whose light once round us shone,
Of noble pride, now turn'd to shame,
And hopes for ever gone.

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