Poems |
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Page
354 THE LORD OF BURLEIGH . . . . . . 358 VSIR LAUNCELOT AND QUEEN
GUINEVERE . . . . 362 A FAREWELL · · · · · · · · 364 364 THE BEGGAR MAID . . . . .
. . . 365 THE VISION OF SIN . . . . . . : 366 “ COME NOT , WHEN I AM DEAD ” .
354 THE LORD OF BURLEIGH . . . . . . 358 VSIR LAUNCELOT AND QUEEN
GUINEVERE . . . . 362 A FAREWELL · · · · · · · · 364 364 THE BEGGAR MAID . . . . .
. . . 365 THE VISION OF SIN . . . . . . : 366 “ COME NOT , WHEN I AM DEAD ” .
Page 12
... confound Her sense ; but most she loathed the hour When the thick - moted
sunbeam lay Athwart the chambers , and the day Was sloping toward his western
bower . Then , said she , “ I am very dreary He will not come , ” she said ; She
wept ...
... confound Her sense ; but most she loathed the hour When the thick - moted
sunbeam lay Athwart the chambers , and the day Was sloping toward his western
bower . Then , said she , “ I am very dreary He will not come , ” she said ; She
wept ...
Page 17
WHEN cats run home and light is come , And dew is cold upon the ground , And
the fer - off stream is dumb , And the whirring sail goes round , And the whirring
sail goes round ; Alone and warming his five wits , The white owl in the belfry sits
.
WHEN cats run home and light is come , And dew is cold upon the ground , And
the fer - off stream is dumb , And the whirring sail goes round , And the whirring
sail goes round ; Alone and warming his five wits , The white owl in the belfry sits
.
Page 26
Come not as thou camest of late , Flinging the gloom of yesternight On the white
day ; but robed in soften ' d light Of orient state . Whilome thou camest with the
morning mist , Even as a maid , whose stately brow The dew - impearled winds of
...
Come not as thou camest of late , Flinging the gloom of yesternight On the white
day ; but robed in soften ' d light Of orient state . Whilome thou camest with the
morning mist , Even as a maid , whose stately brow The dew - impearled winds of
...
Page 28
Come forth I charge thee , arise , Thou of the many tongues , the myriad eyes !
Thou comest not with shows of flaunting vines Unto mine inner eye , Divinest
Memory ! Thou wert not nursed by the waterfall Which ever sounds and shines A
pillar ...
Come forth I charge thee , arise , Thou of the many tongues , the myriad eyes !
Thou comest not with shows of flaunting vines Unto mine inner eye , Divinest
Memory ! Thou wert not nursed by the waterfall Which ever sounds and shines A
pillar ...
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Bibliographic information
| Title | Poems |
| Author | Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson |
| Publisher | C. Kegan Paul, 1878 |
| Original from | Harvard University |
| Digitized | 23 Jan 2009 |
| Length | 379 pages |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |