Earth is dry to the centre, But spring, a new comer, A spring rich and strange, Shall make the winds blow Round… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
And the days darken round me, and the years, Among new men, strange faces, other minds. — 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
And so the Word had breath, and wrought With human hands the creed of creeds In loveliness of perfect deeds, More strong… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
It may be that no life is found, Which only to one engine bound Falls off, but cycles always round. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
For now the poet cannot die, Nor leave his music as of old, But round him ere he scarce be cold Begins… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, Tis not too late… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
O Blackbird! sing me something well: While all the neighbors shoot thee round, I keep smooth plats of fruitful ground, Where thou… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Yonder cloud That rises upward always higher, And onward drags a laboring breast, And topples round the dreary west, A looming bastion… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind. For they lie beside their nectar, and the bolts… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
This round of green, this orb of flame, Fantastic beauty; such as lurks In some wild poet, when he works Without a… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Come not, when I am dead, To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave, To trample round my fallen head, And vex… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
. . . More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore let thy voice Rise like a fountain… — 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
