She is coming, my own, my sweet;
Were it ever so airy a tread,
My heart would hear her and beat,
Were it earth in an earthy bed;
My dust would hear her and beat,
Had I lain for a century dead,
Would start and tremble under her feet,
And blossom in purple and red.
(Lord Alfred Tennyson)
More Poetry from Lord Alfred Tennyson:
- To The Queen (Lord Alfred Tennyson Poems)
- Mariana (Lord Alfred Tennyson Poems)
- After-Thought (Lord Alfred Tennyson Poems)
- The Holy Grail (Lord Alfred Tennyson Poems)
- In Memoriam A. H. H.: Is it, then, regret for buried time (Lord Alfred Tennyson Poems)
- Enoch Arden (Lord Alfred Tennyson Poems)