The Poetry of Tennyson

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C. Scribner's sons, 1889 - 296 strani
 

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Stran 245 - Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend t For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
Stran 70 - So dear to Heaven is saintly chastity, That when a soul is found sincerely so, A thousand liveried angels lackey her, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt...
Stran 62 - And every shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale. Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures Whilst the...
Stran 61 - To hear the lark begin his flight, And singing startle the dull night, From his watch-tower in the skies, Till the dappled dawn doth rise...
Stran 106 - Heaven is for thee too high To know what passes there : be lowly wise : Think only what concerns thee, and thy being : Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there Live, in what state, condition or degree ; Contented that thus far hath been reveal'd Not of earth only, but of highest heaven.
Stran 248 - Let — not — your — heart — be — troubled. In — my — Father's — house — are — many — mansions.
Stran 83 - Purification in the old Law did save, And such as yet once more I trust to have Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint, Came vested all in white, pure as her mind. Her face was...
Stran 189 - The holy Elders with the gift of myrrh. But now the whole Round Table is dissolved Which was an image of the mighty world; And I, the last, go forth companionless, And the days darken round me, and the years, Among new men, strange faces, other minds.
Stran 105 - God, That God, which ever lives and loves, One God, one law, one element, And one far-off divine event, To which the whole creation moves.
Stran 62 - To the ocean now I fly, And those happy climes that lie Where day never shuts his eye, Up in the broad fields of the sky. There I suck the liquid air, All amidst the gardens fair Of Hesperus, and his daughters three That sing about the golden tree.

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