Alfred Lord Tennyson

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

In Memoriam A. H. H.: 15. To-Night The Winds Begin To Rise - Poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson

To-night the winds begin to rise
And roar from yonder dropping day:
The last red leaf is whirl'd away,
The rooks are blown about the skies;
The forest crack'd, the waters curl'd,
The cattle huddled on the lea;
And wildly dash'd on tower and tree
The sunbeam strikes along the world:
And but for fancies, which aver
That all thy motions gently pass
Athwart a plane of molten glass,
I scarce could brook the strain and stir

That makes the barren branches loud;
And but for fear it is not so,
The wild unrest that lives in woe
Would dote and pore on yonder cloud

That rises upward always higher,
And onward drags a labouring breast,
And topples round the dreary west,
A looming bastion fringed with fire.

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Read poems about / on: tree, red, fire, fear, world, night, rose, sky, water, wind

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004

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