Alfred Lord Tennyson

(6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892 / Lincoln / England)

Alfred Lord Tennyson Poems

1. ŒNone 1/1/2004
2. ‘and Ask Ye Why These Sad Tears Stream?’ 1/1/2004
3. A Farewell 1/1/2004
4. After-Thought 1/1/2004
5. All Things Will Die 1/1/2004
6. Amphion 1/1/2004
7. Ask Me No More 1/1/2004
8. Audley Court 1/1/2004
9. Balin And Balan 1/1/2004
10. Battle Of Brunanburgh 1/1/2004
11. Beautiful City 1/1/2004
12. Beauty 11/27/2014
13. Blow, Bugle, Blow 1/1/2004
14. Boadicea 1/1/2004
15. Break, Break, Break 4/8/2010
16. By An Evolutionist 1/1/2004
17. Charge Of The Light Brigade 1/1/2004
18. Claribel: A Melody 1/1/2004
19. Come Down, O Maid 1/1/2004
20. Come Into The Garde, Maud 1/1/2004
21. Come Not When I Am Dead 1/1/2004
22. Cradle Song 1/1/2004
23. Crossing The Bar 1/1/2004
24. Cxv: Spring 4/8/2010
25. Dedication 1/1/2004
26. Demeter And Persephone 1/1/2004
27. Duet 1/1/2004
28. Early Spring 4/8/2010
29. Enoch Arden 1/1/2004
30. Far-Far-Away 4/8/2010
31. Fatima 1/1/2004
32. Flower In The Crannied Wall 4/8/2010
33. Freedom 4/8/2010
34. From 'The Princess' 4/8/2010
35. Gareth And Lynette 1/1/2004
36. Geraint And Enid 1/1/2004
37. Gigantic Daughter Of The West, 4/8/2010
38. Guinevere 1/1/2004
39. Hands All Round 4/8/2010
40. Hark! The Dogs Howl! 3/19/2015
Best Poem of Alfred Lord Tennyson

Ulysses

It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.
I cannot rest from travel; I will drink
Life to the lees. All times I have enjoy'd
Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone; on shore, and when
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 ...

Read the full of Ulysses

The Garden

Excerpt from "Maud"

She is coming, my own, my sweet;
Were it ever so airy a tread,
My heart would hear her and beat,
Were it earth in an earthy bed;
My dust would hear her and beat,
Had I lain for a century dead,
Would start and tremble under her feet,
And blossom in purple and red.

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