Her court was pure, her life serene; God gave her peace; her land reposed; A thousand claims to reverence closed. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Ah, when shall all men's good Be each man's rule, and universal peace Lie like a shaft of light across the land,… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land; Ring in… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
There is no land like England, Where'er the light of day be; There are no hearts like English hearts, Such hearts of… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
There rolls the deep where grew the tree. O earth, what changes hast thou seen! There where the long street roars, hath… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
O Love! what hours were thine and mine, In lands of palm and southern pine; In lands of palm, of orange-blossom, Of… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Faith and unfaith can ne'er be equal powers; Unfaith is aught is want of faith in all. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
The still affection of the heart Became an outward breathing type, That into stillness past again, And left a want unknown before; Although the… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
I do but sing because I must; and pipe but as the linnets sing. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Here about the beach I wandered, nourishing a youth sublime With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
So now I have sworn to bury All this dead body of hate I feel so free and so clear By the loss of… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
If Nature put not forth her power About the opening of the flower, Who is it that could live an hour? — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
