The Works of Tennyson The Eversley Edition: Annotated by Alfred, Lord Tennyson: Edited by Hallam, Lord Tennyson |
I. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
II. |
[Break, break, break] |
I. |
II. |
III. |
VII. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
I. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXI. |
XXII. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
III. |
VI. |
V. |
III. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
I. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
XIX. |
XX. |
XXI. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
XVI. |
XVII. |
XVIII. |
IV. |
I. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
VIII. |
I. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
III. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
IV. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
V. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
I. |
I. |
II. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
I. |
II. |
IV. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
V. |
I. |
II. |
IX. |
I. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
I. |
II. |
V. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
I. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
I. |
IV. |
The Works of Tennyson | ||
139
[Break, break, break]
Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.
O well for the fisherman's boy,
That he shouts with his sister at play!
O well for the sailor lad,
That he sings in his boat on the bay!
That he shouts with his sister at play!
O well for the sailor lad,
That he sings in his boat on the bay!
And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill;
But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!
To their haven under the hill;
But O for the touch of a vanish'd hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!
Break, break, break
At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.
At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.
The Works of Tennyson | ||