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The Poetical Works of Alfred Lord Tennyson: A Dream of Fair Women and Other ...
No preview available - 2018
answer'd arms Arthur beneath blood blow break breath broken child close Cloth comes cried dark dead dear death deep door dream earth eyes face fair fall father fear feet fell fire flower follow golden gone half hall hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hold hope hour king kiss knew Lady Lancelot land leave light live look lord mind moon morn mother move never night noble o'er once pass past Queen rest rose round seem'd shadow side sleep smile song soul speak spirit star stood strange summer sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought thro till true voice wall wild wind wood
Page 64 - 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.
Page 113 - OH yet we trust that somehow good Will be the final goal of ill, To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of blood; That nothing walks with aimless feet; That not one life shall be destroy'd, Or cast as rubbish to the void, When God hath made the pile complete...
Page 193 - Of no more subtle master under heaven Than is the maiden passion for a maid, Not only to keep down the base in man, But teach high thought, and amiable words And courtliness, and the desire of fame, And love of truth, and all that makes a man.
Page 88 - Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me ; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.
Page 47 - Then spoke King Arthur, breathing heavily : " What is it thou hast seen ? or what hast heard ?' And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere : " I heard the water lapping on the crag, And the long ripple washing in the reeds.
Page 147 - Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die, Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Page 49 - And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea. Where I will heal me of my grievous wound." So said he, and the barge with oar and sail Moved from the brink, like some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs. Long stood Sir Bedivere Revolving many memories, till the hull Look'd one black dot against the verge of dawn, And on the mere the wailing died away. But when that moan had past for evermore, The stillness of...
Page 12 - The broken sheds look'd sad and strange : Unlifted was the clinking latch ; Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange. She only said, ' My life is dreary, He Cometh not...