To Princess Frederica On Her Marriage

O you that were eyes and light to the King till he past away
From the darkness of life
He saw not his daughterhe blest her: the blind King sees you to-day,
He blesses the wife.

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

Come down, O Maid

Alfred Lord Tennyson, Simple Poetry

In Memoriam W. G. Ward

Alfred Lord Tennyson, Simple Poetry

A Medley: Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead (The Princess)

Alfred Lord Tennyson, Simple Poetry

The Larger Hope

Alfred Lord Tennyson, Simple Poetry

English

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Dedication

Dedication
These to His Memory--since he held them dear,
Perchance as finding there unconsciously
Some image of himself--I dedicate,
I dedicate, I consecrate with tears--
These Idylls.

And indeed He seems to me
Scarce other than my king's ideal knight,
`Who reverenced his conscience as his king;
Whose glory was, redressing human wrong;
Who spake no slander, no, nor listened to it;
Who loved one only and who clave to her--'
Her--over all whose realms to their last isle,
Commingled with the gloom of imminent war,
The shadow of His loss drew like eclipse,
Darkening the world. We have lost him: he is gone:
We know him now: all narrow jealousies
Are silent; and we see him as he moved,
How modest, kindly, all-accomplished, wise,
With what sublim...

Alfred Lord Tennyson

Dedication

These to His Memorysince he held them dear,
Perchance as finding there unconsciously
Some image of himselfI dedicate,
I dedicate, I consecrate with tears
These Idylls.

And indeed He seems to me
Scarce other than my kings ideal knight,
Who reverenced his conscience as his king;
Whose glory was, redressing human wrong;
Who spake no slander, no, nor listened to it;
Who loved one only and who clave to her
Herover all whose realms to their last isle,
Commingled with the gloom of imminent war,
The shadow of His loss drew like eclipse,
Darkening the world. We have lost him: he is gone:
We know him now: all narrow jealousies
Are silent; and we see him as he moved,
How modest, kindly, all-accomplished, wise,
With what sublime repression of himse...

Alfred Lord Tennyson

Dedicatory Poem to the Princess Alice

Dead Princess, living Power, if that which lived
True life live onand if the fatal kiss,
Born of true life and love, divorce thee not
From earthly love and lifeif what we call
The spirit flash not all at once from out
This shadow into Substancethen perhaps
The mellowd murmur of the peoples praise
From thine own State, and all our breadth of realm,
Where Love and Longing dress thy deeds in light,
Ascends to thee; and this March morn that sees
Thy Soldier-brothers bridal orange-bloom
Break thro the yews and cypress of thy grave,
And thine Imperial mother smile again,
May send one ray to thee! and who can tell
ThouEnglands England-loving daughterthou
Dying so English thou wouldst have her flag
Borne on thy coffinwhere is he can swear
But that som...

Alfred Lord Tennyson

To H.R.H. Princess Beatrice

Two Suns of Love make day of human life,
Which else with all its pains, and griefs, and deaths,
Were utter darknessone, the Sun of dawn
That brightens thro the Mothers tender eyes,
And warms the childs awakening worldand one
The later-rising Sun of spousal Love,
Which from her household orbit draws the child
To move in other spheres. The Mother weeps
At that white funeral of the single life,
Her maiden daughters marriage; and her tears
Are half of pleasure, half of painthe child
Is happyeven in leaving her! but thou,
True daughter, whose all-faithful, filial eyes
Have seen the loneliness of earthly thrones,
Wilt neither quit the widowd Crown, nor let
This later light of Love have risen in vain,
But moving thro the Mothers home, between
The two ...

Alfred Lord Tennyson

The Death Of The Duke Of Clarence And Avondale

To the Mourners.


The bridal garland falls upon the bier,
The shadow of a crown, that oer him hung,
Has vanishd in the shadow cast by Death.
So princely, tender, truthful, reverent, pure
Mourn! That a world-wide Empire mourns with you,
That all the Thrones are clouded by your loss,
Were slender solace. Yet be comforted;
For if this earth be ruled by Perfect Love,
Then, after his brief range of blameless days,
The toll of funeral in an Angel ear
Sounds happier than the merriest marriage-bell.
The face of Death is toward the Sun of Life,
His shadow darkens earth: his truer name
Is Onward, no discordance in the roll
And march of that Eternal Harmony
Whereto the worlds beat time, tho faintly heard
Until the great Hereafter. Mourn in hope!

Alfred Lord Tennyson

A Medley: Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead (The Princess)

Home they brought her warrior dead:
She nor swoon'd nor utter'd cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
"She must weep or she will die."
Then they praised him, soft and low,
Call'd him worthy to be loved,
Truest friend and noblest foe;
Yet she neither spoke nor moved.
Stole a maiden from her place,
Lightly to the warrior stepped,
Took the face-cloth from the face;
Yet she neither moved nor wept.

Rose a nurse of ninety years,
Set his child upon her knee--
Like summer tempest came her tears--
"Sweet my child, I live for thee."

Alfred Lord Tennyson