Politics

We move, the wheel must always move,
Nor always on the plain,
And if we move to such a goal
As Wisdom hopes to gain,
Then you that drive, and know your craft,
Will firmly hold the rein,
Nor lend an ear to random cries,
Or you may drive in vain;
For some cry Quick and some cry Slow,
But, while the hills remain,
Up hill Too-slow' will need the whip,
Down hill Too-quick the chain.

Alfred Lord Tennyson

Alfred Lord Tennyson was a renowned British poet of the Victorian era, born on August 6, 1809, in Somersby, Lincolnshire. He is best known for his works like 'In Memoriam A.H.H.', 'The Charge of the Light Brigade', and 'Ulysses'. As one of the most popular poets of his time, he was appointed Poet Laureate of Great Britain and Ireland in 1850. Tennyson's poetry is characterized by its rich imagery, deep emotion, and classical themes. He passed away on October 6, 1892.

Alfred Lord Tennyson

St. Simeon Stylites

Alfred Lord Tennyson, Simple Poetry

In The Garden At Swainston

Alfred Lord Tennyson, Simple Poetry

The Palace Of Art

Alfred Lord Tennyson, Simple Poetry

The Letters

Alfred Lord Tennyson, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Love Thou Thy Land, With Love Far-Brought

Love thou thy land, with love far-brought
From out the storied past, and used
Within the present, but transfused
Thro future time by power of thought;

True love turnd round on fixed poles,
Love, that endures not sordid ends,
For English natures, freemen, friends,
Thy brothers and immortal souls.

But pamper not a hasty time,
Nor feed with crude imaginings
The herd, wild hearts and feeble wings
That every sophister can lime.

Deliver not the tasks of might
To weakness, neither hide the ray
From those, not blind, who wait for day,
Tho sitting girt with doubtful light.

Make knowledge circle with the winds;
But let her herald, Reverence, fly
Before her to whatever sky
Bear seed of men and growth of minds.

Watch wh...

Alfred Lord Tennyson

Freedom

I.

O thou so fair in summers gone,
While yet thy fresh and virgin soul
Informd the pillard Parthenon,
The glittering Capitol;



II.

So fair in southern sunshine bathed,
But scarce of such majestic mien
As here with forehead vapor-swathed
In meadows ever green;



III.

For thouwhen Athens reignd and Rome,
Thy glorious eyes were dimmd with pain
To mark in many a freemans home
The slave, the scourge, the chain;



IV.

O follower of the Vision, still
In motion to the distant gleam
Howeer blind force and brainless will
May jar thy golden dream



V.

Of Knowledge fusing class with class,
Of civic Hate no more to be,
Of Love to leaven a...

Alfred Lord Tennyson

Mechanophilus

Now first we stand and understand,
And sunder false from true,
And handle boldly with the hand,
And see and shape and do.

Dash back that ocean with a pier,
Strow yonder mountain flat,
A railway there, a tunnel here,
Mix me this Zone with that!

Bring me my horsemy horse? my wings
That I may soar the sky,
For Thought into the outward springs,
I find her with the eye.

O will she, moonlike, sway the main,
And bring or chase the storm,
Who was a shadow in the brain,
And is a living form?

Far as the Future vaults her skies,
From this my vantage ground
To those still-working energies
I spy nor term nor bound.

As we surpass our fathers skill,
Our sons will shame our own;
A thousand things are hidden still

Alfred Lord Tennyson

Poets And Critics

This thing, that thing is the rage,
Helter-skelter runs the age;
Minds on this round earth of ours
Vary like the leaves and flowers,
Fashiond after certain laws;
Sing thou low or loud or sweet,
All at all points thou canst not meet,
Some will pass and some will pause.

What is true at last will tell:
Few at first will place thee well;
Some too low would have thee shine,
Some too highno fault of thine
Hold thine own, and work thy will!
Year will graze the heel of year,
But seldom comes the poet here,
And the Critics rarer still.

Alfred Lord Tennyson

Will

I.

O well for him whose will is strong!
He suffers, but he will not suffer long;
He suffers, but he cannot suffer wrong:
For him nor moves the loud worlds random mock,
Nor all Calamitys hugest waves confound,
Who seems a promontory of rock,
That, compassd round with turbulent sound,
In middle ocean meets the surging shock,
Tempest-buffeted, citadel-crownd.



II.

But ill for him who, bettering not with time,
Corrupts the strength of heaven-descended Will,
And ever weaker grows thro acted crime,
Or seeming-genial venial fault,
Recurring and suggesting still!
He seems as one whose footsteps halt,
Toiling in immeasurable sand,
And oer a weary sultry land,
Far beneath a blazing vault,
Sown in a wrinkle of the mo...

Alfred Lord Tennyson

To The Duke Of Argyll

O Patriot Statesman, be thou wise to know
The limits of resistance, and the bounds
Determining concession; still be bold
Not only to slight praise but suffer scorn;
And be thy heart a fortress to maintain
The day against the moment, and the year
Against the day; thy voice, a music heard
Thro all the yells and counter-yells of feud
And faction, and thy will, a power to make
This ever-changing world of circumstance,
In changing, chime with never-changing Law.

Alfred Lord Tennyson