The works of Tennyson. Sch. ed, Volumen2

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Página 137 - The wish, that of the living whole No life may fail beyond the grave, Derives it not from what we have The likest God within the soul? Are God and Nature then at strife, That Nature lends such evil dreams? So careful of the type she seems, So careless of the single life...
Página 98 - HALF a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. "Forward, the Light Brigade!
Página 62 - Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear ! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going ! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing ! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying : Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Página 63 - On lips that are for others ; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret ; O Death in Life, the days that are no more.
Página 177 - Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls, Come hither, the dances are done, In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls, Queen lily and rose in one; Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls, To the flowers, and be their sun.
Página 123 - I HELD it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.
Página 62 - The splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story : The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Página 10 - The sunrise broken into scarlet shafts Among the palms and ferns and precipices; The blaze upon the waters to the east; The blaze upon his island overhead; The blaze upon the waters to the west; Then the great stars that globed themselves in Heaven, The hollower-bellowing ocean, and again The scarlet shafts of sunrise — but no sail.
Página 131 - Sat silent, looking each at each. Then echo-like our voices rang ; We sung, tho' every eye was dim, A merry song we sang with him Last year : impetuously we sang. We ceased : a gentler feeling crept Upon us : surely rest is meet : ' They rest,' we said, ' their sleep is sweet,' And silence follow'd, and we wept.
Página 95 - In that dread sound to the great name Which he has worn so pure of blame, In praise and in dispraise the same, A man of well-attemper'd frame.

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