The Works of Alfred Tennyson, 835 leidimas,2 tomasHenry S. King, 1874 |
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ALFRED TENNYSON answer'd beneath betwixt blessed bold Sir Bedivere breath brows call me early cheek cloud crag crown dark daughter Dear mother Ida death deep Dipt Dora dream drew dropt Earl was fair EDWIN MORRIS Enone ere I die Eustace Excalibur eyes face Fames flowers glad New-year golden goose green hand happy harken ere hath hear heard heart Heaven hills hilt hollow JAMES BONWICK JOHN SAUNDERS King Arthur knew Lady Clara Vere land light lips live look'd Lord Mary moon morn never night o'er Queen ROBERT BUCHANAN roll'd rose round saints SARA COLERIDGE Second Edition seem'd SIMEON STYLITES sleep smile song soul sound spake stars stept stood sweet tears thee thine things thou thought thro toil turn'd turret and tree valley Vere de Vere voice weary weep wild wind words
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60 psl. - All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past. Let us alone. What pleasure can we have To war with evil ? Is there any peace In ever climbing up the climbing wave ? All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave In silence j ripen, fall and cease : Give us long rest or death, dark death, or dreamful ease.
63 psl. - Till they perish and they suffer — some, 'tis whisper'd — down in hell Suffer endless anguish, others in Elysian valleys dwell. Resting weary limbs at last on beds of asphodel. Surely, surely, slumber is more sweet than toil, the shore Than labour in the deep mid-ocean, wind and wave and oar ; Oh rest ye, brother mariners, we will not wander more. A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN [1832. - Revised 1842] I READ, before my eyelids dropt their shade, 'The Legend of Good Women...
63 psl. - Round their golden houses, girdled with the gleaming world : Where they smile in secret, looking over wasted lands, Blight and famine, plague and earthquake, roaring deeps and fiery sands, Clanging fights, and flaming towns, and sinking ships, and praying hands. But they smile, they find a music centred in a doleful son^ Steaming up, a lamentation and an ancient tale of wrong. Like a tale of little meaning tho...
63 psl. - Like a tale of little meaning tho' the words are strong; Chanted from an ill-used race of men that cleave the soil, Sow the seed, and reap the harvest with enduring toil, Storing yearly little dues of wheat, and wine and oil; Till they perish and they suffer— some...
61 psl. - And their warm tears: but all hath suffer'd change: For surely now our household hearths are cold. Our sons inherit us: our looks are strange: And we should come like ghosts to trouble joy. Or else the island princes over-bold Have eat our substance, and the minstrel sings Before them of the ten-years' war in Troy, And our great deeds, as half-forgotten things.
60 psl. - Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past. Let us alone. What pleasure can we have To war with evil ? Is there any peace In ever climbing up the climbing wave ? All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave In silence ; ripen, fall and cease : Give us long rest or death, dark death, or dreamful ease. V. How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream, With half-shut eyes ever to seem Falling asleep in a half-dream ! To dream and dream, like yonder amber light, Which will not leave the myrrh-bush...
23 psl. - And he that shuts Love out, in turn shall be Shut out from Love, and on her threshold lie Howling in outer darkness. Not for this Was common clay ta'en from the common earth, Moulded by God, and temper'd with the tears Of angels to the perfect shape of man.
114 psl. - Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
112 psl. - Then saw they how there hove a dusky barge, Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to stern, Beneath them ; and descending they were ware That all the decks were dense with stately forms Black-stoled, black-hooded, like a dream — by these...
42 psl. - ill be the happiest time of all the glad New-year: To-morrow 'ill be of all the year the maddest merriest day, For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o