420 quotes
My God, I would not live
Save that I think this gross hard-seeming world
Is our misshaping vision of the Powers
Behind the world, that make our griefs our gains.
Happy he
With such a mother! faith in womankind
Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high
Comes easy to him, and though he trip and fall,
He shall not blind his soul with clay.
The Princess (1847)
All night have the roses heard
The flute, violin, bassoon;
All night has the casement jessamine stirr'd
To the dancers dancing in tune;
Till a silence fell with the waking bird,
And a hush with the setting moon.
Maud; A Monodrama (1855)
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of death
Rode the six hundred.
The Charge of the Light Brigade (1854)
Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.
Their meetings made December June.
Their every parting was to die.
In Memoriam A.H.H (1849)
Yea, let all good things await
Him who cares not to be great
But as he saves or serves the state.
Not once or twice in our rough island-story
The path of duty was the way to glory.
Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington (1852)
Whate'er thy joys, they vanish with the day:
Whate'er thy griefs, in sleep they fade away,
To sleep! to sleep!
Sleep, mournful heart, and let the past be past:
Sleep, happy soul, all life will sleep at last.
The Foresters, Robin Hood and Maid Marion (1892)
And on her lover's arm she leant,
And round her waist she felt it fold,
And far across the hills they went
In that new world which is the old:
Across the hills, and far away
Beyond their utmost purple rim,
And deep into the dying day
The happy princess follow'd him.
The Day-Dream (1842)
"He does not love me for my birth
Nor for my lands so broad and fair;
He loves me for my own true worth,
And that is well," said Lady Clare.
Lady Clare (1842)
Late, late, so late! but we can enter still.
Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now.
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
That jewelled mass of millinery,
That oiled and curled Assyrian Bull.
Maud; A Monodrama (1855)
But light as any wind that blows
So fleetly did she stir,
The flower, she touch'd on, dipt and rose,
And turned to look at her.
Speak no more of his renown,
Lay your earthly fancies down,
And in the vast cathedral leave him,
God accept him, Christ receive him!
Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington (1852)
For it was in the golden prime
Of good Haroun Alraschid.
Who loves not Knowledge? Who shall rail
Against her beauty? May she mix
With men and prosper! Who shall fix
Her pillars? Let her work prevail.
In Memoriam A.H.H (1849)
An' I thowt 'twur the will o' the Lord, but Miss Annie she said it wur draäins,
For she bedn't naw coomfut in 'er, an' arn'd naw thanks fur 'er paäins.
A little garden square and wall'd;
And in it throve an ancient evergreen,
A yew-tree, and all round it ran a walk
Of shingle, and a walk divided it.
Who can fancy warless men?
Warless? War will die out late then. Will it ever? late or soon?
Can it, till this outworn earth be dead as yon dead world the moon?
Locksley Hall Sixty Years After (1886)