Tears, Idle Tears
by: Lord Alfred Tennyson (1809 - 1892)
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 on a sail,
That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love 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
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Marriage Morning
And Ask Ye Why These Sad Tears Stream
Ballad Of Oriana, The
Burial Of Love, The
Daisy, The
Happy Lover Who Has Come, A
Farewell, A
After-Thought
Be Near Me When My Light Is Low
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