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Hace 2 días · Answer: Arthur Henry Hallam. The complete title of the famous poem is "In Memoriam A.H.H." from 1850. Arthur Henry Hallam was an esteemed poet at Trinity College but died due to complications from fever and a stroke. Arthur, Tennyson's closest friend in college, died young and had courted Alfred's sister Emily. 7.
Hace 2 días · Then in the gray of the morning it seem'd. she stood by me and smiled, And the doctor came at his hour, and we. went to see to the child. VIII. He had brought his ghastly tools; we believed. her asleep again--. Her dear, long, lean, little arms lying out.
Hace 3 días · Locksley Hall Sixty Years After. Late, my grandson! half the morning have I paced these sandy tracts, Watch'd again the hollow ridges roaring into cataracts, Wander'd back to living boyhood while I heard the curlews call, I myself so close on death, and death itself in Locksley Hall. So-your happy suit was blasted-she the faultless, the divine;
18 de may. de 2024 · Perchance. Thou art but of those fables which engage. And hold the minds of men in giddy trance. Yet, be it so, and be it all romance, The thought of thine existence is so bright. With beautiful imaginings--the glance. Upon thy fancied being such delight, That I will deem thee Truth, so lovely is thy might! Alfred Lord Tennyson.
Hace 15 horas · Dark House. Here in the long unlovely street. So quickly, waiting for a hand. At earliest morning to the door. On the bald street breaks the blank day. Dark house, by which once more I stand Here in the long unlovely street. Doors, where my heart was used to beat So quickly, waiting for a hand. A hand t.
8 de may. de 2024 · Streamed through my cell a cold and silver beam, And down the long beam stole the Holy Grail, Rose - red with beatings in it, as if alive, Till all the white walls of my cell were dyed. With rosy colours leaping on the wall; And then the music faded, and the Grail. Past, and the beam decayed, and from the walls.
10 de may. de 2024 · No, like a child in doubt and fear: But that blind clamour made me wise; Then was I as a child that cries, But, crying, knows his father near; And what I am beheld again. What is, and no man understands; And out of darkness came the hands. That reach thro' nature, moulding men.”. ― Alfred Tennyson, In Memoriam.
