Alfred Lord Tennyson: Всі вірші поета

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Come not when I am dead

Come not, when I am dead,

To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave,

To trample round my fallen head,

And vex the unhappy dust thou wouldst not save.

There let the wind sweep and the plover cry;

But thou, go by.

Child, if it were thine error or thy crime

I care no longer, being all unblest:

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

In Memoriam 16: I envy not in any moods

I envy not in any moods

The captive void of noble rage,

The linnet born within the cage,

That never knew the summer woods:

I envy not the beast that takes

His license in the field of time,

Unfetter'd by the sense of crime,

To whom a conscience never wakes;

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

A Farewell

Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,

Thy tribute wave deliver:

No more by thee my steps shall be,

For ever and for ever.

Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea,

A rivulet then a river:

Nowhere by thee my steps shall be

For ever and for ever.

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

The Princess: A Medley: Home they Brought her Warrior Dead

Home they brought her warrior dead:

She nor swoon'd nor utter'd cry:

All her maidens, watching, said,

"She must weep or she will die."

Then they praised him, soft and low,

Call'd him worthy to be loved,

Truest friend and noblest foe;

Yet she neither spoke nor moved.

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Ask Me No More

Ask me no more: the moon may draw the sea;

The cloud may stoop from heaven and take the shape,

With fold to fold, of mountain or of cape;

But O too fond, when have I answer'd thee?

Ask me no more.

Ask me no more: what answer should I give?

I love not hollow cheek or faded eye:

Yet, O my friend, I will not have thee die!

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Blow, Bugle, Blow

THE splendour falls on castle walls

And snowy summits old in story:

The long light shakes across the lakes,

And the wild cataract leaps in glory.

Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,

Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,

And thinner, clearer, farther going!

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Lilian

Airy, Fairy Lilian,

Flitting, fairy Lilian,

When I ask her if she love me,

Claps her tiny hands above me,

Laughing all she can;

She 'll not tell me if she love me,

Cruel little Lilian.

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Maud

Come into the garden, Maud,

For the black bat, Night, has flown,

Come into the garden, Maud,

I am here at the gate alone;

And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,

And the musk of the roses blown.

For a breeze of morning moves,

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Locksley Hall

.Comrades, leave me here a little, while as yet 't is early morn:

Leave me here, and when you want me, sound upon the bugle-horn.

'T is the place, and all around it, as of old, the curlews call,

Dreary gleams about the moorland flying over Locksley Hall;

Locksley Hall, that in the distance overlooks the sandy tracts,

And the hollow ocean-ridges roaring into cataracts.

Many a night from yonder ivied casement, ere I went to rest,

Did I look on great Orion sloping slowly to the West.

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Ode to Memory

THOU who stealest fire,

From the fountains of the past,

To glorify the present, oh, haste,

Visit my low desire!

Strengthen me, enlighten me!

I faint in this obscurity,

Thou dewy dawn of memory.

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

In Memoriam A H H 116

Is it, then, regret for buried time

That keenlier in sweet April wakes,

And meets the year, and gives and takes

The colours of the crescent prime?

Not all: the songs, the stirring air,

The life re-orient out of dust,

Cry thro' the sense to hearten trust

In that which made the world so fair.

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

The War

There is a sound of thunder afar,

Storm in the south that darkens the day,

Storm of battle and thunder of war,

Well, if it do not roll our way.

Form! form! Riflemen form!

Ready, be ready to meet the storm!

Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!

Be not deaf to the sound that warns!

by Alfred Lord Tennyson