Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson, FRSwas Poet Laureate of Great Britain and Ireland during much of Queen Victoria's reign and remains one of the most popular British poets...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth6 August 1809
men dust way
All the windy ways of men Are but dust that rises up, And is lightly laid again.
hands voice goes-on
And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still!
men blood light
France had shown a light to all men, preached a Gospel, all men's good; Celtic Demos rose a Demon, shriek'd and slaked the light with blood.
needs pleasure profit
It was my duty to have loved the highest; It surely was my profit had I known: It would have been my pleasure had I seen. We needs must love the highest when we see it, Not Lancelot, nor another.
book squares looks
But every page having an ample marge, And every marge enclosing in the midst A square of text that looks a little blot.
girl queens women
Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls.
common grain wells
And common is the commonplace, And vacant chaff well meant for grain.
wall flower space
Four grey walls, and four grey towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott.
wind littles aspens
Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver.
men cups born
Fill the cup, and fill the can: Have a rouse before the morn: Every moment dies a man, Every moment one is born.
mother sweet father
Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon: Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.
priests delicate heard
I heard no longer The snowy-banded, dilettante, Delicate-handed priest intone.
sweet blow purple
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.
wall fall blow
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. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.