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Lord Alfred Tennyson

Lord Alfred Tennyson

Flower in the Crannied Wall

Flower in the crannied wall,
I pluck you out of the crannies,
I hold you here, root and all, in my hand,
Little flower-but if I could understand
What you are, root and all, all in all,
I should know what God and man is.

#English #Victorians

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Otras obras de Lord Alfred Tennyson...
In Memoriam A. H. H. 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…
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How Thought You That This Thing Could Captivate?

How thought you that this thing co… What are those graces that could m… Who is not worth the notice of a s… To rouse the vapid devil of her ha… A speech conventional, so void of…
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Recollection of the Arabian Nights

WHEN the breeze of a joyful dawn… In the silken sail of infancy, The tide of time flow’d back with… The forward-flowing tide of time; And many a sheeny summer-morn,
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St. Agnes’ Eve

Deep on the convent-roof the snows Are sparkling to the moon: My breath to heaven like vapour go… May my soul follow soon! The shadows of the convent-towers
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Balin and Balan

Pellam the King, who held and los… In that first war, and had his rea… But rendered tributary, failed of… To send his tribute; wherefore Ar… His treasurer, one of many years,…
Ulysses

It little profits that an idle kin… By this still hearth, among these… Match’d with an aged wife, I mete… Unequal laws unto a savage race, That hoard, and sleep, and feed, a…
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To Edward Lear: on His Travels in Greece

Illyrian woodlands, echoing falls Of water, sheets of summer glass, The long divine Peneian pass, The vast Akrokeraunian walls, Tomohrit, Athos, all things fair,
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In Memoriam A. H. H.: 118. Contemplate All This Work of Tim

Contemplate all this work of Time… The giant labouring in his youth; Nor dream of human love and truth, As dying Nature’s earth and lime; But trust that those we call the d…
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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Lullaby

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. 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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Dedication

Dedication These to His Memory—since he held… Perchance as finding there unconsc… Some image of himself—I dedicate, I dedicate, I consecrate with tea…
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The Marriage of Geraint

The brave Geraint, a knight of Ar… A tributary prince of Devon, one Of that great Order of the Table… Had married Enid, Yniol’s only ch… And loved her, as he loved the lig…
Recollections of the Arabian Nights

When the breeze of a joyful dawn b… In the silken sail of infancy, The tide of time flow’d back with… The forward—flowing tide of time; And many a sheeny summer—morn,
 1
The Progress of Spring

THE groundflame of the crocus bre… Fair Spring slides hither o’er th… Wavers on her thin stem the snowdr… That trembles not to kisses of the… Come Spring, for now from all the…
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