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

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Page 77 - More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend? For so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
Page 64 - Thou hast betray'd thy nature and thy name, Not rendering true answer, as beseem'd Thy fealty, nor like a noble knight ; For surer sign had follow'd, either hand, Or voice, or else a motion of the mere. This is a shameful thing for men to lie. Yet now, I charge thee, quickly go again, As thou art lief and dear, and do the thing I bade thee, watch, and lightly bring me word.
Page 73 - ... barge, Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to stern, Beneath them; and descending they were ware That all the decks were dense with stately forms Black-stoled, black-hooded, like a dream - by these Three Queens with crowns of gold - and from them rose A cry that...
Page 67 - Then spoke King Arthur, breathing heavily: "What is it thou hast seen? or what hast heard?" And answer made the bold Sir Bedivere: "I heard the water lapping on the crag, And the long ripple washing in the reeds.
Page 68 - The great brand Made lightnings in the splendour of the moon, And flashing round and round, and whirl'd in an arch, Shot like a streamer of the northern morn, Seen where the moving isles of winter shock 140 By night, with noises of the northern sea.
Page 72 - And rising bore him thro' the place of tombs. * Icebergs. But, as he walk'd, King Arthur panted hard, Like one that feels a nightmare * on his bed When all the house is mute. So sigh'd the king, Muttering and murmuring at his ear, " Quick, quick ! I fear it is too late, and I shall die.
Page 75 - Mix'd with the knightly growth that fringed his lips. So like a shatter'd column lay the king ; Not like that Arthur who, with lance in rest,. From spur to plume a star of tournament, Shot thro' the lists at Camelot, and charged Before the eyes of ladies and of kings.
Page 26 - For manners are not idle, but the fruit Of loyal nature, and of noble mind.
Page 156 - Shamed ? care not ! thy foul sayings fought for me : And seeing now thy words are fair, methinks There rides no knight, not Lancelot, his great self, Hath force to quell me.
Page 36 - To lead sweet lives in purest chastity, To love one maiden only, cleave to her, And worship her by years of noble deeds, Until they won her; for indeed I knew Of no more subtle master under heaven Than is the maiden passion for a maid, Not only to keep down the base in man, But teach high thought, and amiable words And courtliness, and the desire of fame, And love of truth, and all that makes a man.

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