In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er,
Like coarsest clothes against the cold

Alfred Tennyson


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Half the night I waste in sighs,
Half in dreams I sorrow after
The delight of early skies;
In a wakeful dose I sorrow
For the hand, the lips, the eyes,
For the meeting of the morrow,
The delight of happy laughter,
The delight of low replies.

Alfred Tennyson

Stichwörter: love sorrow



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Virtue - to be good and just -
Every heart, when sifted well,
Is a clot of warmer dust,
Mix'd with cunning sparks of hell.

- The Vision of Sin

Alfred Tennyson

Stichwörter: virtue



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I came in haste with cursing breath,
And heart of hardest steel;
But when I saw thee cold in death,
I felt as man should feel.

For when I look upon that face,
That cold, unheeding, frigid brown,
Where neither rage nor fear has place,
By Heaven! I cannot hate thee now!

Alfred Tennyson

Stichwörter: poetry death hatred



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The mirror crack'd from side to side
"The curse has come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott

Alfred Tennyson

Stichwörter: curse mirror cracked



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I am half-sick of shadows,' said The Lady of Shalott.

Alfred Tennyson


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She saw the snowy poles of moonless Mars, That marvellous round of milky light Below Orion, and those double stars Whereof the one more bright

Is circled by the other

Alfred Tennyson

Stichwörter: love doom kisses dark-hour enoch-arden



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Kate saith the world is void of might.
Kate saith the men are gilded flies.
Kate snaps her fingers at my vows;
Kate will not hear of lovers sighs.
I would I were an armed knight,
Far-famed for well-won enterprise,
And wearing on my swarthy brows
The garland of new-wreathed emprise
For in a moment I would pierce
The blackest files of clanging fight,
And strongly strike to left and right,
In dreaming of my lady's eyes.
O, Kate loves well the bold and fierce;
But none are bold enough for Kate,
She cannot find a fitting mate.

Alfred Tennyson


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More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.

Alfred Tennyson


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Follow the deer? Follow the Christ the King. Live pure, speak true,right wrong, Follow the King-- Else, wherefore born?

Alfred Tennyson


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