The Eagle
A Fragment
HE clasps the crag with hookèd hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
More poems by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
-
Charge of the Light Brigade
[October 25, 1854]
HALF a league, half a league,
Half a league onward, … -
The Charge of the Light Brigade
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death … -
The Lady of Shalott
Part I
ON either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye, … -
Ulysses
It little profits that, an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Matched with an aged wife, I mete and dole …