by Alfred Lord Tennyson
I. Ulysses, much-experienced man, Whose eyes have known this globe of ours, Her tribes of men, and trees, and flowers, From Corrientes to Japan, II. To you that bask below the Line, I soaking here in… Read the rest
I. Ulysses, much-experienced man, Whose eyes have known this globe of ours, Her tribes of men, and trees, and flowers, From Corrientes to Japan, II. To you that bask below the Line, I soaking here in… Read the rest
Victor in Drama, Victor in Romance, Cloud-weaver of phantasmal hopes and fears, French of the French, and Lord of human tears; Child-lover; Bard whose fame-lit laurels glance Darkening the wreaths of all that would advance, Beyond… Read the rest
I. Roman Virgil, thou that singest Ilion’s lofty temples robed in fire, Ilion falling, Rome arising, wars, and filial faith, and Dido’s pyre; II. Landscape-lover, lord of language more than he that sang the ‘Works and… Read the rest
1851 Farewell, Macready, since to-night we part; Full-handed thunders often have confessed Thy power, well-used to move the public breast. We thank thee with our voice, and from the heart. Farewell, Macready, since this night we… Read the rest
AFTER READING A LIFE AND LETTERS ‘Cursed be he that moves my bones.’ Shakespeare’s Epitaph. You might have won the Poet’s name, If such be worth the winning now, And gain’d a laurel for your brow… Read the rest
I. ‘Spring-flowers’! While you still delay to take Your leave of town, Our elm-tree’s ruddy-hearted blossom-flake Is fluttering down. II. Be truer to your promise. There! I heard Our cuckoo call. Be needle to the magnet… Read the rest
I. HER, that yer Honour was spakin’ to? Whin, yer Honour? last year— Standin’ here be the bridge, when last yer Honour was here? An’ yer Honour ye gev her the top of the mornin’, ‘Tomorra’… Read the rest
You make our faults too gross, and thence maintain Our darker future. May your fears be vain! At times the small black fly upon the pane May seem the black ox of the distant plain.… Read the rest
O you that were eyes and light to the King till he past away From the darkness of life— He saw not his daughter—he blest her: the blind King sees you to-day, He blesses the wife.… Read the rest
Fair things are slow to fade away, Bear witness you, that yesterday1 From out the Ghost of Pindar inyou Roll’d an Olympian; and they say2 That here the torpid mummy wheat Of Egypt bore a grain… Read the rest