Select poems of Alfred lord Tennyson . dered far In an old wood : fresh-washd in coolest dew, The maiden splendors of the morning starShook in the steadfast blue. Enormous elm-tree boles did stoop and leanUpon the dusky brushwood underneath Their broad curved branches, fledged with clearest green,New from its silken sheath. 60 The dim red morn had died, her journey done, And with dead lips smiled at the twilight plain. Half-fallen across the threshold of the to rise again. There was no motion in the dumb dead air,Not any song of bird or sound of rill; Gross darkness of the inner sepu


Select poems of Alfred lord Tennyson . dered far In an old wood : fresh-washd in coolest dew, The maiden splendors of the morning starShook in the steadfast blue. Enormous elm-tree boles did stoop and leanUpon the dusky brushwood underneath Their broad curved branches, fledged with clearest green,New from its silken sheath. 60 The dim red morn had died, her journey done, And with dead lips smiled at the twilight plain. Half-fallen across the threshold of the to rise again. There was no motion in the dumb dead air,Not any song of bird or sound of rill; Gross darkness of the inner sepulchreIs not so deadly still As that wide forest. Growths of jasmine turnd Their humid arms festooning tree to tree, 70 And at the root thro lush green grasses burndThe red anemone. I knew the flowers, I knew the leaves, I knewThe tearful glimmer of the languid dawn On those long, rank, dark wood-walks drenchd in dew,Leading from lawn to lawn. A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. 63 i|liiliiTiilIIiIl^illiIlii™fffipf«IIIilllIllillllIlllIlIillllill. The smell of violets, hidden in the green, Pourd back into my empty soul and frame The times when I remember to have beenJoyful and free from blame. And from within me a clear undertone Thrilld thro* mine ears in that unblissful clime, Pass freely thro; the wood is all thine own, Until the end of time. At length I saw a lady within call, Stiller than chiselld marble, standing there jA daughter of the gods, divinely tall, And most divinely fair. Her loveliness with shame and with surprise Froze my swift speech ; she turning on my face 90 The star-like sorrows of immortal eyes,Spoke slowly in her place. 64 A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN; * I had great beauty ; ask thou not my name : No one can be more wise than drew swords and died. Whereer I cameI brought calamity.* * No marvel, sovereign lady : in fair field Myself for such a face had boldly died/I answerd free ; and turning I appealdTo one that stood beside. But she, with sick and scornful l


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