Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson. ...

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Macmillan Company, 1895
 

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37. oldal - 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.
45. oldal - With the standards of the peoples plunging thro' the thunder-storm ; Till the war-drum throbb'd no longer, and the battleflags were furl'd In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the world. There the common sense of most shall hold a fretful realm in awe, And the kindly earth shall slumber, lapt in universal law.
27. oldal - Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades Vext the dim sea. I am become a name; For always roaming with a hungry heart Much have I seen and known,— cities of men And manners, climates, councils, governments, Myself not least, but...
49. oldal - Not in vain the distance beacons. Forward, forward let us range. Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change. Thro...
284. oldal - Speak to Him thou for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet — Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.
79. oldal - Sometimes on lonely mountain-meres I find a magic bark; I leap on board, no helmsman steers, I float till all is dark. A gentle sound, an awful light! Three angels bear the holy Grail: With folded feet, in stoles of white, On sleeping wings they sail. Ah, blessed vision ! blood of God ! My spirit beats her mortal bars, As down dark tides the glory slides, And star-like mingles with the stars.
35. oldal - Pleiads, rising thro' the mellow shade, Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid. Here about the beach I wander'd, nourishing a youth sublime With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time...
223. oldal - HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. " Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns," he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
78. oldal - My knees are bow'd in crypt and shrine : I never felt the kiss of love, Nor maiden's hand in mine. More bounteous aspects on me beam, Me mightier transports move and thrill; .So keep I fair thro' faith and prayer A virgin heart in work and will.
118. oldal - COME not, when I am dead, To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave, To trample round my fallen head, And vex the unhappy dust thou wouldst not save. There let the wind sweep and the plover cry; But thou, go by.

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