Alfred Lord Tennyson

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

Alfred Lord Tennyson Poems

161. Early Spring 4/8/2010
162. Duet 1/1/2004
163. Demeter And Persephone 1/1/2004
164. Dedication 1/1/2004
165. Cxv: Spring 4/8/2010
166. Crossing The Bar 1/1/2004
167. Cradle Song 1/1/2004
168. Come Not When I Am Dead 1/1/2004
169. Come Into The Garde, Maud 1/1/2004
170. Come Down, O Maid 1/1/2004
171. Claribel: A Melody 1/1/2004
172. Charge Of The Light Brigade 1/1/2004
173. By An Evolutionist 1/1/2004
174. Break, Break, Break 4/8/2010
175. Boadicea 1/1/2004
176. Blow, Bugle, Blow 1/1/2004
177. Beauty 11/27/2014
178. Beautiful City 1/1/2004
179. Battle Of Brunanburgh 1/1/2004
180. Balin And Balan 1/1/2004
181. Audley Court 1/1/2004
182. Ask Me No More 1/1/2004
183. Amphion 1/1/2004
184. All Things Will Die 1/1/2004
185. After-Thought 1/1/2004
186. A Farewell 1/1/2004
187. ‘and Ask Ye Why These Sad Tears Stream?’ 1/1/2004
188. ŒNone 1/1/2004
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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