The poetical works of Alfred Tennyson. [Vol.8,9 are of the 1878 ed. With] The dramatic works [&c.].

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Seite 65 - MY good blade carves the casques of men, My tough lance thrusteth sure, My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure.
Seite 6 - To-day I saw the dragon-fly Come from the wells where he did lie. ' An inner impulse rent the veil Of his old husk : from head to tail Came out clear plates of sapphire mail. ' He dried his wings : like gauze they grew : Thro' crofts and pastures wet with dew A living flash of light he flew.
Seite 67 - Sometimes on lonely mountain-meres I find a magic bark. I leap on board; no helmsman steers; I float till all is dark. A gentle sound, an awful light! Three Angels bear the Holy Grail; With folded feet, in stoles of white, On sleeping wings they sail. Ah, blessed vision! blood of God! My spirit beats her mortal bars, As down dark tides, the glory slides, And starlike mingles with the stars. When on my goodly charger borne Thro' dreaming towns I go, The cock crows ere the Christmas morn, The streets...
Seite 62 - EVE. DEEP on the convent-roof the snows Are sparkling to the moon: My breath to heaven like vapour goes : May my soul follow soon ! The shadows of the convent-towers Slant down the snowy sward, Still creeping with the creeping hours That lead me to my Lord : Make Thou my spirit pure and clear As are the frosty skies, Or this first snowdrop of the year That in my bosom lies.
Seite 46 - AND on her lover's arm she leant, And round her waist she felt it fold, And far across the hills they went In that new world which is the old...
Seite 69 - And thro' the mountain-walls A rolling organ-harmony Swells up, and shakes and falls. Then move the trees, the copses nod, Wings flutter, voices hover clear : " O just and faithful knight of God ! Ride on ! the prize is near.
Seite 98 - Nay now, my Child," said Alice the nurse, "But keep the secret all ye can." She said, "Not so; but I will know If there be any faith in man." "Nay now, what faith?" said Alice the nurse; "The man will cleave unto his right.
Seite 132 - That he shouts with his sister at play ! 0 well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay ! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But...
Seite 95 - He does not love me for my birth, Nor for my lands so broad and fair ; He loves me for my own true worth, And that is well,
Seite 130 - HE clasps the crag with crooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ring'd with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls.

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