Poems by Alfred Tennyson
The Last Tournament
... anon he heard The voice that billowed round the barriers roar ...
Sweet And Low
... Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep ...
The Princess (part 5)
... O my flower! Or they will take her, they will make her hard, ...
The Princess: A Medley: Tears, Idle Tears
... Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, ...
Geraint And Enid
... and as now Men weed the white horse on the Berkshire hills ...
Sir Galahad
... And, ringing, springs from brand and mail ...
Flower in the Crannied Wall
... I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, ...
Freedom
... Make bright our days and light our dreams, ...
The Princess: A Medley: Thy Voice is Heard
... And strikes him dead for thine and thee ...
By an Evolutionist
... As he stands on the heights of his life with a glimpse of a height that is higher ...
The War
... Ready, be ready to meet the storm! ...
In Memoriam XV
... I scarce could brook the strain and stir ...
OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII (Entire)
... They rest, we said, their sleep is sweet, ...
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 95
... In those fall'n leaves which kept their green, ...
The Talking Oak
... "And all that from the town would stroll, ...
