Oenone (Alfred Lord Tennyson Poems)
There lies a vale in Ida, lovelierThan all the valleys of Ionian hills.The swimming vapour slopes athwart the glen,Puts forth ...
There lies a vale in Ida, lovelierThan all the valleys of Ionian hills.The swimming vapour slopes athwart the glen,Puts forth ...
Now westward Sol had spent the richest beamsOf noon's high glory, when, hard by the streamsOf Tiber, on the scene ...
The naked earth is warm with Spring, And with green grass and bursting trees Leans to the sun's gaze glorying, And quivers in ...
Rose-bosom'd and rose-limb'dWith eyes of dazzling brightShakes Venus mid the twined boughs of the night;Rose-limb'd, soft-steppingFrom low bough to boughShaking ...
One called from Salonika and his call Rang to his brother;Forded wide rivers, climbed the mountain wall, Seeking the other.Are you asleep, ...
Ah! not now, when desire burns, and the wind calls, and the suns of springLight-foot dance in the woods, whisper ...
The laggard year is now at primeAnd primrose-time is daffodil-time; Where do the boys delay? What tether Hinders them from the heavenly ...
My peace is broken, my white gentle sleepSo softly drifted on, so cool caressedBy morning's rose and evening's amethyst,Jarred by ...
OTSO THE HONEY-EATER.Came the tidings to Pohyola,To the village of the Northland,That Wainola had recoveredFrom her troubles and misfortunes,From her ...
PreludesI The Rose of the World Lo, when the Lord made North and ...
Long ago and long ago, And long ago still, There dwelt three merry maidens Upon a distant hill. One was ...
Between the green bud and the redYouth sat and sang by Time, and shed From eyes and tresses flowers ...
WAINAMOINEN'S HAPLESS JOURNEY.Wainamoinen, old and truthful,Now arranges for a journeyTo the village of the Northland,To the land of cruel winters,To ...
Once, on the far blue hills, Alone with the pine and the cloud, in those high still places; Alone ...
I PRELUDE Daughter of Psyche, pledge of that last night When, pierced with pain and bitter-sweet delight, She knew her ...
Ah! not now, when desire burns, and the wind calls, and the suns of spring Light-foot dance in the woods, ...
I. He was a Grecian lad, who coming home With pulpy figs and wine from Sicily Stood at his galley's ...
Between the green bud and the red Youth sat and sang by Time, and shed From eyes and tresses flowers ...
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