. The poetic and dramatic works of Alfred lord Tennyson. tTo forage for herself alone ;Britons, hold your own ! Sharers of our glorious past,Brothers, must we part at last ?Shallwe not thro good and illCleave to one another still ?Britains myriad voices call,* Sons, be welded each and allInto one imperial whole,One with Britain, heart and soul !One life, one flag, one fleet, onethrone !Britons, hold your own ! TO W. C. M ACRE AD Y 1851 Farewell, Macready, since to-nightwe part;Full-handed thunders often have confessedThy power, well-used to move thepublic thank thee with our voice, a
. The poetic and dramatic works of Alfred lord Tennyson. tTo forage for herself alone ;Britons, hold your own ! Sharers of our glorious past,Brothers, must we part at last ?Shallwe not thro good and illCleave to one another still ?Britains myriad voices call,* Sons, be welded each and allInto one imperial whole,One with Britain, heart and soul !One life, one flag, one fleet, onethrone !Britons, hold your own ! TO W. C. M ACRE AD Y 1851 Farewell, Macready, since to-nightwe part;Full-handed thunders often have confessedThy power, well-used to move thepublic thank thee with our voice, and from the , Macready, since this nightwe part,Go, take thine honors home; rank with the best,Garrick and statelier Kemble, andthe restWho made a nation purer through their is it that our drama did not die,Nor flicker down to brainless panto-mime,And those gilt gauds men-children swarm to , Macready, moral, grave,sublime ;Our Shakespeares bland and univer-sal eyeDwells pleased, through twice ahundred years, on Queen Victoria DEMETER AND OTHER POEMS TO THE MARQUIS OF DUF-FERIN AND AVA At times our Britain cannot rest,At times her steps are swift and rash ;She moving, at her girdle clash The golden keys of East and West. Not swift or rash, when late she lentThe sceptres of her West, her East,To one that ruling has increased Her greatness and her self-content. inYour rule has made the people loveTheir ruler. Your viceregal days 66o DEMETER AND OTHER POEMS Have added fulness to the phraseOf Gauntlet in the velvet glove/ But since your name will grow withtime,Not all, as honoring your fair fameOf Statesman, have I made thenameA golden portal to my rhyme ; But more, that you and yours mayknowFrom me and mine, how dear a debtWe owed you. and are owing yetTo you and yours, and still wouldowe. VI For he — your India was his Fate,And drew him over sea to you —He fain had ranged her thro andthro, To serve her myriads and the State, — VII w
Size: 1415px × 1767px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookpublisherbostonandnewyorkho
