The Works of Alfred Tennyson ...: The princess and other poems

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Seite 196 - HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. ' Forward the Light Brigade ! Charge for the guns !
Seite 197 - Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volley'd and thunder'd ; Storm'd at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred. Flash'd all their sabres bare, Flash'd as they turn'd in air Sabring the gunners there, Charging an army, while All the world wonder'd ; Plunged in the battery-smoke Right thro' the line they broke; Cossack and Russian Reel'd from the sabre-stroke Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Seite 270 - FLOWER in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower — but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is.
Seite 160 - Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white; Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk; Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font: The fire-fly wakens: waken thou with me. Now droops the milkwhite peacock like a ghost. And like a ghost she glimmers on to me. Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars, And all thy heart lies open untD me.
Seite 285 - O YOU chorus of indolent reviewers, Irresponsible, indolent reviewers, Look, I come to the test, a tiny poem All composed in a metre of Catullus, All in quantity, careful of my motion, Like the skater on ice that hardly bears him, Lest I fall unawares before the people, Waking laughter in indolent reviewers. Should I flounder awhile without a tumble Thro...
Seite 179 - BURY the Great Duke With an empire's lamentation, Let us bury the Great Duke To the noise of the mourning of a mighty nation, Mourning when their leaders fall, Warriors carry the warrior's pall, And sorrow darkens hamlet and hall.
Seite 71 - 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, dyin£, dying. O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle ; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Seite 33 - O lift your natures up: Embrace our aims : work out your freedom. Girls, Knowledge is now no more a fountain seal'd : Drink deep, until the habits of the slave. The sins of emptiness, gossip and spite And slander, die. Better not be at all Than not be noble.
Seite 225 - ear my 'erse's legs, as they canters awaay? Proputty, proputty, proputty — that's what I 'ears 'em saay. Proputty, proputty, proputty — Sam, thou's an ass for thy paai'ns : Theer's moor sense i' one o' 'is legs nor in all thy braai'ns.
Seite 265 - Glory of Virtue, to fight, to struggle, to right the wrong — Nay, but she aim'd not at glory, no lover of glory she : Give her the glory of going on, and still to be.

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