Alfred Lord Tennyson

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

Alfred Lord Tennyson Poems

161. The Princess (Part 2) 1/1/2004
162. The Princess (Part 3) 1/1/2004
163. The Princess (Part 4) 1/1/2004
164. The Princess (Part 5) 1/1/2004
165. The Princess (Part 6) 1/1/2004
166. The Princess (Part 7) 1/1/2004
167. The Princess (Prologue) 1/1/2004
168. The Princess: A Medley: As Thro' The Land 1/1/2004
169. The Princess: A Medley: Ask Me No More 1/1/2004
170. The Princess: A Medley: Come Down, O Maid 1/1/2004
171. The Princess: A Medley: Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead 1/1/2004
172. The Princess: A Medley: Now Sleeps The Crimson Petal 1/1/2004
173. The Princess: A Medley: O Swallow 1/1/2004
174. The Princess: A Medley: Our Enemies Have Fall'N 1/1/2004
175. The Princess: A Medley: Tears, Idle Tears 1/1/2004
176. The Princess: A Medley: Thy Voice Is Heard 1/1/2004
177. The Progress Of Spring 1/1/2004
178. The Revenge - A Ballad Of The Fleet 1/1/2004
179. The Ringlet 1/1/2004
180. The Sailor Boy 1/10/2015
181. The Skipping-Rope 4/8/2010
182. The Splendor Falls 4/8/2010
183. The Talking Oak 1/1/2004
184. The Tears Of Heaven 3/16/2015
185. The Two Voices 2/9/2015
186. The War 4/8/2010
187. Tithonus 1/1/2004
188. To E. Fitzgerald: Tiresias 1/1/2004
189. To Edward Lear: On His Travels In Greece 4/8/2010
190. To J. S. 1/1/2004
191. To The Queen 1/1/2004
192. To Virgil 1/1/2004
193. Ulysses 1/1/2004
194. You Ask Me, Why, Tho' Ill At Ease 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Alfred Lord Tennyson


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

Merlin And Vivien

A storm was coming, but the winds were still,
And in the wild woods of Broceliande,
Before an oak, so hollow, huge and old
It looked a tower of ivied masonwork,
At Merlin's feet the wily Vivien lay.

For he that always bare in bitter grudge
The slights of Arthur and his Table, Mark
The Cornish King, had heard a wandering voice,

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