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Libri Libri 1 - 10 di 153 su Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine....
" Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. ' Fresh as the first beam glittering... "
The Works of Alfred Lord Tennyson, Poet Laureate - Pagina 180
di Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1892 - 874 pagine
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The Gentleman's Magazine, and Historical Chronicle, for the Year ..., Volume 183

1848
...tears, I know not what they mean, Tears, from the depth of some divine despair, Rise in the heart, aud gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn-fields...below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds To...
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The Quarterly review, Volume 82

1848
...idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the henrt, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,...below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds To...
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The Eclectic Magazine of Foreign Literature, Science, and Art, Volume 13

1848
...all cares to kill Is to give them — No surrender ! DAYS THAT ARE NO MORE. BY TENNYBON. Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean ; Tears from the...below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. Ah ! sad and strange, as, in dark summer dawns, The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds...
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The Princess: A Medley

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1848 - 164 pagine
...elbows : on a tripod in the midst A fragrant flame rose, and before us glow'd Fruit, viand, blossom, and amber wine and gold. Then she ' Let some one sing...below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. " Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds...
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The Princess: A Medley

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1848 - 168 pagine
...fledged with music :', and a maid, Of those beside her, smote her harp, and sang : i " Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth...below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. " Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds...
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The Eclectic Magazine: Foreign Literature, Volume 13

John Holmes Agnew, Walter Hilliard Bidwell - 1848
...to kill Is to give them — No surrender ! DAYS THAT ARE NO MORE. BY TENNYSON. Tears, idle tears, 1 know not what they mean ; Tears from the depth of...below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. Ah ! sad and strange, as, in dark summer dawna, The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds...
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The Truth-seeker in philosophy, literature, and religion, ed. by F ..., Volume 1

Truth-seeker and present age - 1849
...minutes ' lightlicr move.' The following exquisite melody is sung by one of her maids : ' Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth...below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. Ah, sad and strange, as, in dark summer dawn», The earlicst pipe of half-awakened birds...
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Sartain's Union Magazine of Literature and Art, Volume 7

Caroline Matilda Kirkland, John Sartain - 1850
...the earth, earthy. What I am about to read is from his last long poem, " The Princess:" Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth...one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sod, so fresh, the days that are no more. Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest...
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The Princess: A Medley

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1850 - 177 pagine
...we call the Sun, If that hypothesis of theirs be sound' Said Ida ; ' let us down and rest:' and we Down from the lean and wrinkled precipices, By every...below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. " Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds...
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Poems

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1851 - 278 pagine
...: on a tripod in the midst A fragrant flame arose, and before us glowed Fruit, viand, blossom, and amber wine and gold. Then she, " Let some one sing...below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. " Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awakened birds...
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