Alfred Tennyson
England
6 Aug 1809 // 6 Oct 1892
Poeta
6 Aug 1809 // 6 Oct 1892
Poeta
Quotes
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And o'er the hills, and far away
Beyond their utmost purple rim,
Beyond the night, across the day,
Thro' all the world she follow'd him.
Beyond their utmost purple rim,
Beyond the night, across the day,
Thro' all the world she follow'd him.
The Day-Dream. The Departure
Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might;
Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight.
Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight.
And on her lover's arm she leant,
And round her waist she felt it fold,
And far across the hills they went
In that new world which is the old.
And round her waist she felt it fold,
And far across the hills they went
In that new world which is the old.
The Day-Dream. The Departure
God gives us love. Something to love
He lends us; but when love is grown
To ripeness, that on which it throve
Falls off, and love is left alone.
He lends us; but when love is grown
To ripeness, that on which it throve
Falls off, and love is left alone.
To J. S
Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace!
Sleep, holy spirit, blessed soul,
While the stars burn, the moons increase,
And the great ages onward roll.
Sleep, holy spirit, blessed soul,
While the stars burn, the moons increase,
And the great ages onward roll.
To J. S
I held it truth, with him who sings
To one clear harp in divers tones,
That men may rise on stepping-stones
Of their dead selves to higher things.
To one clear harp in divers tones,
That men may rise on stepping-stones
Of their dead selves to higher things.
In Memorium
O Love! what hours were thine and mine,
In lands of palm and southern pine;
In lands of palm, of orange-blossom,
Of olive, aloe, and maize and vine!
In lands of palm and southern pine;
In lands of palm, of orange-blossom,
Of olive, aloe, and maize and vine!
The Daisy
Wearing the white flower of a blameless life,
Before a thousand peering littlenesses,
In that fierce light which beats upon a throne,
And blackens every blot.
Before a thousand peering littlenesses,
In that fierce light which beats upon a throne,
And blackens every blot.
The Idylls of the King, The Dedication
Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet!
Nothing comes to thee new or strange.
Sleep full of rest from head to feet;
Lie still, dry dust, secure of change.
Nothing comes to thee new or strange.
Sleep full of rest from head to feet;
Lie still, dry dust, secure of change.
To J. S
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them.
. . . .
Into the jaws of death,
Into the mouth of hell
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them.
. . . .
Into the jaws of death,
Into the mouth of hell
Rode the six hundred.
Charge of the Light Brigade
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