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Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892) was Poet Laureate of Great Britain and of Ireland during much of Queen Victoria's reign and remains one of the most popular British poets. Tennyson excelled at penning short lyrics, such as "Break, Break, Break," "The Charge of the Light Brigade," "Tears, Idle Tears," and "Crossing the Bar." Tennyson also wrote some notable blank verse, including Idylls of the King, "Ulysses," and "Tithonus."
1 1320

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year...
0 830

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, That sober-suited Freedom chose, The land, where girt with friends or foes A...
1 1326

Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me. O, well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O, well for the sailor lad, That...
0 1316

They wrought a work which Time reveres, A pure example to the lands, Further and further reaching hands, Forever into coming years; They worshipt Freedom for her sake; We faint unless the wanton ear Be tickled with the loud "hear, hear," To which the slight-built hustings shake; For...
0 1199

Of old sat freedom on the heights, The thunders breaking at her feet; Above her shook the starry lights; She heard the torrents meet. There in her place she did rejoice, Self-gather'd in her prophet-mind, But fragments of her mighty voice Came rolling on the wind. Then...
2 2377

It little profits that an idle king, By this still hearth, among these barren crags, Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole Unequal laws unto a savage race, That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me. I cannot rest...
2 2901

I On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; And thro' the field the road runs by        To many-tower'd Camelot; And up and down the people go, Gazing where the...