Alfred Lord Tennyson

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

Alfred Lord Tennyson Poems

121. Requiescat 1/1/2004
122. Ring Out , Wild Bells 4/8/2010
123. Sea Dreams 1/1/2004
124. Sir Galahad 1/1/2004
125. Sir Launcelot And Queen Guinevere 4/8/2010
126. Spring 1/1/2004
127. St. Agnes' Eve 1/1/2004
128. Summer Night 4/8/2010
129. Sweet And Low 1/1/2004
130. Tears, Idle Tears 1/1/2004
131. The Blackbird 7/2/2015
132. The Brook 1/1/2004
133. The Charge Of The Light Brigade 4/8/2010
134. The Coming Of Arthur 1/1/2004
135. The Death Of The Old Year 4/8/2010
136. The Defence Of Lucknow 4/8/2010
137. The Deserted House 1/1/2004
138. The Eagle 1/1/2004
139. The Flower 1/1/2004
140. The Garden 1/1/2004
141. The Grandmother 1/1/2004
142. The Higher Pantheism 1/1/2004
143. The Holy Grail 1/1/2004
144. The Kraken 4/8/2010
145. The Lady Of Shalott (1842) 1/1/2004
146. The Last Tournament 4/8/2010
147. The Letters 1/1/2004
148. The Lord Of Burleigh 1/1/2004
149. The Lotos-Eaters 1/1/2004
150. The Marriage Of Geraint 1/1/2004
151. The May Queen 7/25/2015
152. The Mermaid 4/8/2010
153. The Merman 11/12/2015
154. The Miller's Daughter 1/1/2004
155. The Oak 1/1/2004
156. The Owl 1/1/2004
157. The Palace Of Art 1/1/2004
158. The Passing Of Arthur 1/1/2004
159. The Princess (Part 1) 1/1/2004
160. The Princess (Part 2) 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Alfred Lord Tennyson

All Things Will Die

All Things will Die

Clearly the blue river chimes in its flowing

Under my eye;
Warmly and broadly the south winds are blowing

Over the sky.
One after another the white clouds are fleeting;
Every heart this May morning in joyance is beating

Full merrily;
Yet all things must die.
The stream will cease to flow;
The wind will cease to blow;
The clouds will cease to fleet;
The heart will cease to beat;
For all things must die.
All things must die.
Spring will come never more.
O, vanity!
Death waits at ...

Read the full of All Things Will Die

Cradle Song

What does little birdie say
In her nest at peep of day?
Let me fly, says little birdie,
Mother, let me fly away.
Birdie, rest a little longer,
Till thy little wings are stronger.
So she rests a little longer,
Then she flies away.

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