Alfred, Lord Tennyson    .
             -Lilian                                              -Lost Hope
          -The Poet                                         -The Tears of Heaven
          -The Sea-Fairies                                -Love and Sorrow 
          -The Merman                                    -The Kraken
          -The Mermaid                                   -The Human Cry
          -The Lady of Shalott                          -Merlin and The Gleam
          -The Death of the Old Year                   -The Oak
          -Nothing will die                               -Crossing the Bar
   .     . Lilian    . I. Airy, fairy Lilian, Flitting, fairy Lilian, When I ask her if she love me, Claps her tiny hands above me, Laughing all she can; She'll not tell me if she love me, Cruel little Lilian.    . II. When my passion seeks Pleasance in love sighs, She, looking thro' and thro' me Thoroughly to undo me, Smiling never speaks; So innocent-arch, so cunning-simple, From beneath her gather'd wimple Glancing with black-beaded eyes, Till the lightning laughters dimple The baby-roses in her cheeks; Then away she flies.    . III. Prythee weep, May Lilian! Gayety without eclipse Wearieth me, May Lilian: Thro' my very heart it thrillith When from crimson-threaded lips Silver-treble laughter trillith: Prytee weep, May Lilian.    . IV. Praying all I can, If prayers will not hush thee, Airy Lilian, Like a rose-leaf I will crush thee, Fairy Lilian.    .     . The Poet    . The poet in a golden clime was born, With golden stars above; Dower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love.    . He saw thro' life and death, thro' good and ill, He saw thro' his own soul, The marvel of the everlasting will, An open scroll,    . Before him lay : with echoing feet he threaded The secretest walks of fame: The viewless arrows of his thoughts were headed And wing'd with flame,    . Like Indian reeds blown from silver tongue, And of so fierce a flight, From Calpe unto Caucasus they sung, Filling with light    . And vagrant melodies the winds which bore Then earthward till they lit; Then, like the arrow-seeds of the field flower, The fruitful wit    . Cleaving, took root, and springing forth anew Where'er they fell, behold, Like to the mother plant in semblance, grew A flower all gold.    . And bravely furnish'd all abroad to fling The winged shafts of truth, To throng with stately blooms the breathing spring Of Hope and Youth.    . So many minds did gird their orbs with beams. Tho' one did fling the fire. Heaven flow'd upon the soul in many dreams Of high desire.    . Thus truth was multiplied on truth, the world Like on great garden show'd, And thro' the wraths of floating dark upcurl'd, Rare sunrise flow'd.    . And Freedom reared in that august sunrise Her beautiful bold brow, When rites and forms before his burning eyes Melted like snow.    . There was no blood upon her maiden robes Sunn'd by those orient skies; But round about the circles of her globes Of her keen eyes    . And in her rainment's hem was traced in flame WISDOM, a name to shake All evil dreams of power - a sacred name, And when she spake,    . Her words did gather thunder as they ran, And as the lightning to the thunder Which follows it, riviting the spirit of man, Making earth wonder,    . So was their meaning to her words.  No sword Of wrath her right arm whirl'd, But one poor poet's scroll, and with his word She shook the world.    .     . The Sea-Fairies    . Slow sail'd the weary mariners and saw, Betwixt the green brink and the running foam, Sweet faces, rounded arms, and bosoms prest To little harps of gold; and while they mused, Whispering to each other half in fear, Shrill music reach'd them on the middle sea.    . Whither away, whither away, whither away? fly no more. Whither away from the high green field, and the happy blossoming shore? Day and night to the billow the fountain calls; Down shower the gamboling waterfalls From wandering over the lea: Out of the live-green heart of the dells They freshen the silvery-crimson shells, And thick with white bells the clover-hill swells High over the full-toned sea: O hither, come hither and furl your sails Come hither to me and to me: Hither, come hither and frolic and play; Here it is only the mew that wails; We will sing to you all the day: Mariner, mariner, furl your sails, For here are the blissful downs and dales, And merrily, merrily carol the gales, And the spangle dances in bight and bay, And the rainbow forms and flies on the land Over the islands free; And the rainbow lives in the curve of the sand: Hither, come hither and see: And the rainbow hangs on the poising wave, And sweet is the color of cove and cave, And sweet shall your welcome be: O hither, come hither, and be our lords, For merry brides are we: We will kiss sweet kisses, and speak sweet words; O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten With pleasure and love and jubilee: O listen, listen, you eyes shall glisten When the sharp clear twang of the golden chords Runs up the ridged sea. Who can light on as happy a shore All the world o'er, all the world o'er? Whither away? listen and stay: mariner, mariner, fly no more.    .     . The Merman    . I. Who would be A merman bold, Sitting alone, Sitting alone Under the sea, With a crown of gold, On a throne?    . II. I would be a merman bold: I would sit and sing the whole of the day: I would fill the sea-halls with a voice of power: But at night I would roam about and play With the mermaids in and out of the rocks, Dressing their with the white sea-flower; And holding them back by their flowing locks I would kiss them often under the sea, And kiss them again till they kiss'd me Laughingly, laughingly; And then we would wander away, away To the pale-green sea-groves straight and high, Chasing each other merrily.    . III. There would be neither moon nor star; But the wave would make music above us afar- Low thunder and light in the magic night- Neither moon nor star. We would call aloud in the dreamy dells, Call to each other and whoop and cry All night, merrily, merrily; They would pelt me with starry spangles and shells, Laughing and clapping their hands between, All night, merrily, merrily: But I would throw to them back in mine Turkis and agate and almondine: Then leaping out at them unseen I would kiss them often under the sea, And kiss them again till they kiss'd me Laughingly, laughingly. O, what a happy life were mine Under the hollow-hung ocean green! Soft are the moss-beds under the sea; We would live merrily, merrily.    .     . The Mermaid    . I. Who would be A mermaid fair, Singing alone, Combing her hair Under the sea, In a golden curl With a comb of pearl, On a throne?    . II. I would be a mermaid fair; I would sing to myself the whole of the day; With a comb of pearl I would comb my hair; And still as I comb'd I would sing and say, "Who is it loves me? who loves not me?" I would comb my hair till my ringlets would fall Low adown, low adown, From under my starry sea-bud crown Low adown and around, And I should look like a fountain of gold Springing alone With a shrill inner sound, Over the throne In the midst of the hall: Till that great sea-snake under the sea From his coiled sleeps in the central deeps Would slowly trail himself sevenfold Round the hall where I sate, and look in at the gate With his large calm eyes for the love of me. And all the mermen under the sea Would feel their immortality Die in their hearts for the love of me.    . III. But at night I would wander away, away, I would fling on each side of my low-flowing locks, And lightly vault from the throne and play With the mermen in and out of the rocks; We would run to and fro, and hide and seek, On the broad sea-wolds in the crimson shells, Whose silvery spikes are nighest the sea. But if any came near I would call, and shriek, And adown the step like a wave I would leap From the diamond-ledges that jut from the dells; For I would not be kiss'd by all who would list, Of the bold merry mermen under the sea; They would sue me, and woo me, and flatter me, In the purple twilights under the sea; But the king of them all would carry me, Woo me, and win me, and marry me, In the branching jaspers under the sea; Then all the dry pied things that be In the hueless mosses under the sea Would curl round my silver feet silently, All looking up for the love of me. And if I should carol aloud, from aloft All things that are forked, and horned, and soft Would lean out from the hollow sphere of the sea, All looking down for the love of me.    .     . The Lady of Shalott    . I. On either side of the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; And thro' the field the road runs by                 To many-tower'd Camelot; And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below,                 The island of Shalott.    . Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Thro' the wave that runs forever By the island in the river                 Flowing down to Camelot Four gray walls, and four gray towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers                 The Lady of Shalott.    . By the margin, willow-veil'd, Slide the heavy barges trail'd By slow horses; and unhail'd The shallop fitteth silken-sail'd                 Skimming down to Camelot; But who hath seen her wave her hand? Or at the casement seen her stand? Or is she known in all the land,                 The Lady of Shalott?    . Only reapers, reaping early In among the bearded barley, Hear a song that echoes cheerly From the river winding clearly,                 Down to tower'd Camelot: And by the moon the reaper weary, Piling sheaves in uplands airy, Listening, whispers, "'Tis the fairy                 Lady of Shalott."    . II. There she weaves by night and day A magic web with colors gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay                 To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she,                 The Lady of Shalott.    . And moving thro' a mirror clear That hangs before her all the year, Shadows of the world appear. There she sees the highway near                 Winding down to Camelot: There the river eddy whirls, And there the surly village churls. And the red cloaks of market-girls.                 Pass onward from Shalott.    . Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, An abbot on an ambling pad, Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad, Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,                 Goes by to tower'd Camelot; And sometimes thro' the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two: She hath no loyal knight and true,                 The Lady of Shalott.    . But in her web she still delights To weave the mirror's magic sights, For often thro' the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights,                 And music, went to Camelot: Or when the moon was overhead, Came two young lovers lately wed; "I'm half sick of shadows," said                 The Lady of Shalott.    . III. A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, He rode between the barley-sheaves, The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves, And flamed upon the brazen greaves                 Of bold Sir Lancelot. A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd To a lady in his shield, That sparkled on the yellow field,                 Beside remote Shalott.    . The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, Like to some branch of stars we see Hung in the golden Galaxy. The bridle bells rang merrily                 As he rode down to Camelot: And from his blazon'd baldric slung A mighty silver bugle hung, And as he rode his armor rung,                 Beside remote Shalott.    . All in the blue unclouded weather Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather, The helmet and the helmet-feather Burned like one burning flame together,                 As he rode down to Camelot. As often thro' the purple night, Below the starry cluster's bright, Some bearded meteor, trailing light,                 Moves over still Shalott.    . His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd; On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode; From underneath his helmet flow'd His coal-black curls as on he rode,                 As he rode down to Camelot. From the bank and from the river He flashed into the crystal mirror, "Tirra lirra," by the river                 Sang Sir Lancelot.    . She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces thro' the room, She saw the water-lily bloom, She saw the helmet and the plume,                 She looked down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide; The mirror crack'd from side to side; "The curse is come upon me," cried                 The Lady of Shalott.    . IV. In the stormy east-wind straining, The pale yellow woods were waning, The broad stream in his banks complaining, Heavily the low sky raining                 Over tower'd Camelot; Down she came and found a boat Beneath a willow left afloat, And round about the prow she wrote                 The Lady of Shalott.    . And down the river's dim expanse- Like some bold seer in a trance, Seeing all his own mischance- With a glassy countenance                 Did she look to Camelot. And at the closing of the day She loosed the chain, and down she lay; The broad stream bore her far away,                 The Lady of Shalott.    . Lying, robed in snowy white That loosley flew to left and right- The leaves upon her falling light- Thro' the noise of the night                 She floated down to Camelot: And as the boat-head wound along The willowy hills and fields among, They heard her singing her last song,                 The Lady of Shalott.    . Heard a carol, mournful, holy, Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, Till her blood was frozen slowly, And her eyes were darken'd wholly,                 Turn to tower'd Camelot; For ere she reach'd upon the tide The first house by the water side, Singing in her song she died,                 The Lady of Shalott.    . Under tower and balcony, By garden-wall and gallery, A gleaming shape she floated by, Dead-pale between the houses high,                 Silent into Camelot. Out upon the wharfs they came, Knight and burgher, lord and dame, And round the prow they read her name,                 The Lady of Shalott.    . Who is this? and what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer; And they crossed themselves for fear,                 All the knights at Camelot: But Lancelot mused a little space; He said, "She has a lovely face; God in his mercy lend her grace,                 The Lady of Shalott."    .     . The Death of the Old Year    . Full knee-deep lies the winter snow, And the winter winds are wearily sighing: Toll ye the church bell sad and slow, And tread softly and speak low, For the old year lies a-dying. Old year, you must not die; You came to us so readily, You lived with us so steadily, Old year, you shall not die.    . He lieth still, he doth not move: He will not see the dawn of day. He hath no other life above. He gave me a friend, and a true true-love, And the New year will take 'em away Old year, you must no go; So long as you have been with us, Such joy as you have seen with us, Old year, you shall not go.    . He froth'd his bumbers to the brim; A jollier year we shall not see. But tho' his eyes are waxing dim, And tho' his foes speak ill of him, He was friend to me. Old year, you shall not die; We did so laugh and cry with you, I've half a mind to die with you, Old year, if you must die.    . He was full of joke and jest, But all his merry quips are o'er. To see him die, across the waste His son and heir doth ride post-haste, But he'll be dead before. Every one for his own. The night is starry and cold, my friend, And the New-year blithe and bold, my friend, Comes up to take his own.    . How hard he breathes! over the snow I heard just now the crowing cock. The shadows flicker to and fro: The cricket chirps : the light burns low: 'T is nearly twelve o'clock. Shake hands, before you die. Old year, we'll dearly rue for you: What is it we can do for you? Speak out before you die.    . His face is growing sharp and thin. Alack! our friend is gone. Close up his eyes : tie up his chin: Step from the corpse, and let him in That standeth there alone, And waiteth at the door. There's a new foot on the floor, my friend, And a new face at the door, my friend, A new face at the door.    .     . Nothing Will Die    . When will the stream be aweary of flowing Under my eye? When will the wind be aweary of blowing Over the sky? When will the clouds be aweary of fleeting? When will the heart be aweary of beating? And nature die? Never, O never! nothing will die; The stream flows, The wind blows, The cloud fleets, The heart beats, Nothing will die.    . Nothing will die; All things will change Through eternity. 'Tis the world's winter; Autumn and summer Are gone long ago. Earth is dry to the center, But spring a new comer- A spring rich and strange, Shall make the winds blow Round and round, Through and through, Here and there, Till the air And the ground Shall be filled with life anew. The world was never made; It will change, but it will not fade. So let the wind range; For even and morn Ever will be Through eternity. Nothing was born; Nothing will die; All things will change.    .     . Lost Hope    . You cast to ground the hope which once was mine: But did the while your harsh decree deplore. Embalming with sweet tears the vacant shrine, My heart, where Hope had been and was no more.    . So on an oaken sprout A goodly acorn grew; But winds from heaven shook the acorn out, And filled the cup with dew.    .     . The Tears of Heaven    . Heaven weeps above the earth all night till morn, In darkness weeps as all ashamed to weep, Because the earth had made her state forlorn With self-wrought evil of unnumbered years, And doth the fruit of her dishonor reap. And all the day of heaven gathers back her tears Into her own blue eyes so clear and deep, And showering down the glory of light some day, Smiles on the earth's worn brow to win her if she may.    .     . Love and Sorrow    . O Maiden, fresher than the first green leaf With which the fearful spring tide flecks the lea, Weep not, Almeida, that I said to thee That thou hast half my heart, for bitter grief Doth hold the other half in sovranty. Thou art my heart's sun in love's crystalline: Yet on both sides at once thou cannot shine: Thine is the bright side of my heart, and thine My heart's day, but the shadow of my heart, Issue of its own substance, my heart's night Thou canst not light even with thy light, All-powerful in beauty as thou art. Almeida, if my heart were substanceless, Then might thy rays pass through to the other side, So swiftly, that they nowhere would abide, But lose themselves in utter emptiness. Half-light, half-shadow, let my spirit sleep; They never learned to love who never knew to weep.    .     . The Kraken    . Below the thunders of the upper deep; Far, far beneath the abysmal sea, His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep, The Kraken sleepeth : faintest sunlights flee About his shadowy sides : above him swell Huge sponges of millennial growth and height; And far away into the sickly light, From many a wondrous  grot and secret cell Unnumbered and enormous polypi Winnow with giant fins the slumbering green. There hath he lain for ages and will lie Battening upon huge seaworms in his sleep, Until the latter fire shall heat the deep; Then once by man and angels to be seen, In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.    .     . The Human Cry    . I. Hallowed be Thy name - Halleluiah! - Infinate Ideality! Immeasurable Reality! Infinate Personality! Hallowed be Thy name - Halleluiah!    . II. We feel we are nothing - for all is Thou and in Thee; We feel we are something - that also has come fro Thee; We are nothing, O Thou - but Thou will help us to be. Hallowed be Thy name - Halleluiah!    .     . Merlin and The Gleam    . I. O young Mariner, You from the haven Under the sea-cliff, You that are watching The gray Magician With eyes of wonder, I am Merlin, And I am dying, I am Merlin Who follow The Gleam.    . II. Mighty the Wizard Who found me at sunrise Sleeping, and woke me And learn'd me Magic! Great the Master, And sweet the Magic, When over the valley, In early summers, Over the mountain, On human faces, And all around me, Moving to melody, Floated The Gleam.    . III. Once at the croak of a Raven who crost it A barbarous people, Blind to the magic, And deaf to the melody, Snarl'd at and cursed me. A demon vext me, The light retreated, The landscape darken'd, The melody deaden'd, The Master whisper'd "Follow The Gleam."    . IV. Then to the melody, Over a wilderness Gliding and glancing at Elf of the woodland, Gnome of the cavern, Griffin and Giant, And dancing of Fairies In desolate hollows, And wraith of the mountain, And rolling of dragons By warble of water, Of cataract music Of falling torrents, Flitted The Gleam.    . V. Down from the mountain And over the level, And streaming and shining on Silent river, Silvery willow, Pasture and plowland, Horses and oxen, Innocent maidens, Garrulous children, Homestead and harvest, Reaper and gleaner, And rough-ruddy faces Of lowly labor, Slided The Gleam. -    . VI. Then, with a melody Stronger and statelier, Led me at length To the city and palace Of Arthur the king; Touch'd at the golden Cross of the churches, Flash'd on the Tournament, Flicker'd and bicker'd From helmet to helmet, And last on the forehead Of Arthur the blameless Rested The Gleam.    . VII. Clouds and darkness Closed upon Camelot; Arthur had vanish'd I knew not whither, The king who loved me, And cannot die; For out of the darkness Silent and slowly The Gleam, that had waned to a wintery glimmer On icy fallow And faded forest, Drew to the valley Named of the shadow, And slowly brightening Out of the glimmer, And slowly moving again to a melody Yearningly tender, Fell on the shadow, No longer a shadow, But clothed with The Gleam.    . VIII. And broader and brighter The Gleam flying onward, Wed to the melody, Sang thro' the world; And slower and fainter, Old and weary, But eager to follow, I saw, whenever In passing it glanced upon Hamlet or city, That under the Crosses The dead man's garden, The mortal hillock, Would break into blossom; And so to the land's Last limit I came- And can no longer, But die rejoicing, For thro' the Magic Of Him the Mighty, Who taught me in childhood, There on the border Of boundless Ocean, And all but in Heaven Hovers The Gleam.    . IX. Not of the sunlight, Not of the moonlight, Not of the starlight! O young Mariner, Down to the haven, Call your companions, Launch your vessel, And crowd your canvas, And, ere it vanishes Over the margin, After it, follow it, Follow The Gleam.    .     . The Oak    . Live thy life, Young and old, Like yon oak, Bright in spring, Living gold;    . Summer-rich Then, and then Autumn-changed, Soberer-hued Gold again.    . All his leaves Fall'n at length, Look, he stands, Trunk and bough, Naked strength.    .     . Crossing the Bar    . Sunset and evening star And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea,    . But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home.    . Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark;    . For tho' from out bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar.    .