Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
O, Lady Flora, let me speak:
A pleasant hour has past away
While, dreaming on your damask cheek,
The dewy sister-eyelids lay.
As by the lattice you reclined,
I went thro' many wayward moods
To see you dreaming and, behind,
A summer crisp with shining woods.
And I too dream'd, until at last
Across my fancy, brooding warm,
The reflex of a legend past,
And loosely settled into form.
And would you have the thought I had,
And see the vision that I saw,
Then take the broidery-frame, and add
A crimson to the quaint Macaw,
And I will tell it. Turn your face,
Nor look with that too-earnest eye
The rhymes are dazzled from their place,
And order'd words asunder fly.