Alfred Lord Tennyson
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 105. To-night ungather'd let us leave
To-night ungather'd let us leave
This laurel, let this holly stand:
We live within the stranger's land,
And strangely falls our Christmas-eve.
Our father's dust is left alone
And silent under other snows:
There in due time the woodbine blows,
The violet comes, but we are gone.
No more shall wayward grief abuse
The genial hour with mask and mime;
For change of place, like growth of time,
Has broke the bond of dying use.
Let cares that petty shadows cast,
By which our lives are chiefly proved,
A little spare the night I loved,
And hold it solemn to the past.
But let no footstep beat the floor,
Nor bowl of wassail mantle warm;
For who would keep an ancient form
Thro' which the spirit breathes no more?
Be neither song, nor game, nor feast;
Nor harp be touch'd, nor flute be blown;
No dance, no motion, save alone
What lightens in the lucid east
Of rising worlds by yonder wood.
Long sleeps the summer in the seed;
Run out your measured arcs, and lead
The closing cycle rich in good.
Alfred Lord Tennyson's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (In Memoriam A. H. H.: 105. To-night ungather'd let us leave by Alfred Lord Tennyson )
Did you read them?
Poem of the Day
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- No Man Is An Island, John Donne
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Being With You, Heather Burns
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
- Heather Burns
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
- Bernard Shaw
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)