Lord Alfred Tennyson
Lord Alfred 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...
great lust race sane simple
O great and sane and simple race of brutes/ That own no lust because they have no law!
cliff farther horns sweet thin
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!
corrupt custom fulfills god good himself lest older order
The older order changeth, yielding place to new, and God fulfills himself in many ways, lest one good custom should corrupt the world
die less matter sea
A day less or more/ At sea or ashore,/ We die - does it matter when?
circle
As on this whirligig of Time/ We circle with the seasons.
creation divine
One God, one law, one element,/ And one far-off divine event,/ To which the whole creation moves.
fairy nourishing result tales youth
Nourishing a youth sublime/ With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time.
dear fancy hopeless kisses lips others sweet
Dear as remember'd kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd On lips that are for others
ancient english gray haunt home order sleep softer twilight
An English home - gray twilight poured/ On dewy pastures, dewy trees,/ Softer than sleep - all things in order stored,/ A haunt of ancient Peace.
autumn days depth divine gather happy heart idle looking rise tears thinking
Tears, idle tears,/I know not what they mean,/ Tears from the depth of some divine despair,/ Rise in the heart and gather in the eyes,/ In looking on the happy autumn fields,/ And thinking of the days that are no more.
breeze praise round stir thee
Round thee with the breeze of song/ To stir a little praise of dust.
fears god greatness pray
Pray God our greatness may not fail/ Thro' craven fears of being great.
downward land
A land of streams! some, like a downward smoke,/ Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go.
The moans of doves in immemorial elms,/ And murmuring of innumerable bees.