Index to First Lines
- A gate and a field half ploughed
- All thoughts, all creeds, all dreams, are true
- Angels have talked with him and showed him thrones
- As when a man, that sails in a balloon
- Blow ye the trumpets, gather from afar
- But she tarries in her place
- Check every outflash, every ruder sally
- Could I outwear my present state of woe
- Ere yet my heart was sweet Love's tomb
- Every day hath its night
- First drink a health, this solemn night
- God bless our Prince and Bride
- Heaven weeps above the earth all night
- Here far away, seen from the topmost cliff
- His eyes in eclipse
- Home they brought him slain with spears
- How much I love this writer's manly style
- How often, when a child I lay reclined
- I am any man's suitor
- I stood on a tower in the wet
- I stood upon the Mountain which o'erlooks
- I' the glooming light
- Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh
- My Rosalind, my Rosalind
- O darling room, my heart's delight
- Oh, Beauty, passing beauty! sweetest sweet!
- Oh, go not yet, my love
- O maiden fresher than the first green leaf
- O sad No more! O sweet No more
- O thou whose fringèd lids I gaze upon
- Rise, Britons, rise, if manhood be not dead
- Sainted Juliet! dearest name
- Shall the hag Evil die with the child of Good
- Sure never yet was Antelope
- The lintwhite and the throstlecock
- The Northwind fall'n in the new starréd night
- The pallid thunderstricken sigh for gain
- There are three things that fill my heart with sighs
- Therefore your halls, your ancient colleges
- There is no land like England
- The varied earth, the moving heaven
- Thou, from the first, unborn, undying love
- Though Night hath climbed her peak
- Two bees within a chrystal flowerbell rockèd
- Voice of the summerwind
- We have had enough of motion
- We know him, out of Shakespeare's art
- What time I wasted youthful hours
- Where is the Giant of the Sun, which stood
- Who can say
- Who fears to die? Who fears to die
- With roses musky breathed
- You cast to ground the hope which once was mine
- You did late review my lays
- Your ringlets, your ringlets
Footnotes
[A] Mr Swinburne failed to find this couplet in any of
Chapman's original poems or translations, and was of opinion that it
is Tennyson's own.
[B] Be ye perfect even as your Father in Heaven is perfect.
[C] His crispè hair in ringis was yronne.—Chaucer, Knight's
Tale. (Tennyson's note.)
[D] 'As soon as this poem was published, I altered the second
line to "All books and pictures ranged aright"; yet "Dear room, the
apple of my sight" (which was much abused) is not as bad as "Do go,
dear rain, do go away."' [Note initialed 'A.T.' in Life, vol. I, p.
89.] The worthlessness of much of the criticism lavished on Tennyson
by his coterie of adulating friends may be judged from the fact that
Arthur Hallam wrote to Tennyson that this poem was 'mighty
pleasant.'