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Lord Alfred Tennyson

Lord Alfred Tennyson

The Eagle
He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring’d with the azure world, he stands.
 
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.

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Other works by Lord Alfred Tennyson...
You Ask Me, Why, Tho’ Ill at Ease

You ask me, why, tho’ ill at ease, Within this region I subsist, Whose spirits falter in the mist, And languish for the purple seas. It is the land that freemen till,
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The Princess: Sweet and Low

Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go,
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In Memoriam A. H. H.: 39. Old Warder of These Buried Bones

Old warder of these buried bones, And answering now my random stroke With fruitful cloud and living smo… Dark yew, that graspest at the sto… And dippest toward the dreamless h…
In Memoriam 131: O Living Will That Shalt Endure

O living will that shalt endure When all that seems shall suffer s… Rise in the spiritual rock, Flow thro’ our deeds and make them… That we may lift from out of dust
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The Lady of Shalott looking at Lancelot, by John William Waterhouse
The Lady of Shalott (1842 version)

On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the… And thro’ the field the road runs… To many—tower’d Camelot;
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In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 67

When on my bed the moonlight falls… I know that in thy place of rest By that broad water of the west, There comes a glory on the walls: Thy marble bright in dark appears,
Milton

O mighty—mouth’d inventor of harmo… O skill’d to sing of Time or Eter… God—gifted organ—voice of England… Milton, a name to resound for ages… Whose Titan angels, Gabriel, Abd…
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The Princess: a Medley: as Thro’ the Land

As thro’ the land at eve we went, And pluck’d the ripen’d ears, We fell out, my wife and I, O we fell out I know not why, And kiss’d again with tears.
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 7

Dark house, by which once more I… Here in the long unlovely street, Doors, where my heart was used to… So quickly, waiting for a hand, A hand that can be clasp’d no more…
The Defence of Lucknow

BANNER of England, not for a se… Floated in conquering battle or fl… Never with mightier glory than whe… Flying at top of the roofs in the… Shot thro’ the staff or the halyar…
Magdalen Weeping, by Master of the Legend of the Magdalen
The Princess: Tears, Idle Tears

Tears, idle tears, I know not wha… Tears from the depth of some divin… Rise in the heart, and gather to t… In looking on the happy Autumn-fi… And thinking of the days that are…
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In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 45

The baby new to earth and sky, What time his tender palm is prest Against the circle of the breast, Has never thought that “this is I… But as he grows he gathers much,
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In the Garden at Swainston

NIGHTINGALES warbled without… Within was weeping for thee: Shadows of three dead men Walk’d in the walks with me: Shadows of three dead men, and tho…
From 'The Princess’

'Now sleeps the crimson petal, now… Nor waves the cypress in the palac… Nor winks the gold fin in the porp… The fire-fly wakens: wake thou wit… Now droops the milkwhite peacock l…
Break, Break, Break

Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could… The thoughts that arise in me. O, well for the fisherman’s boy,
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