On either side the river lie; Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; And thro' the field the road runs by; To many-tower'd Camelot.
More Quotes from Alfred Lord Tennyson:
Read my little fable He that runs may read. Most can raise the flowers now, For all have got the seed.Alfred Lord Tennyson
Hold thou the good define it well; For fear divine philosophy; Should push beyond her mark and be; Procuress to the Lords of Hell.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Better not be at all than not be noble.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I hate that dreadful hollow behind the little wood.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
But I was born to other things.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The woods decay, the woods decay and fall, The vapours weep their burthen to the ground, Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath, And after many summer dies the swan. Me only cruel immortality Consumes I wither slowly in thine arms, Here at the quiet limit of the world.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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