Life and Thought have gone away
side by side,
Leaving door and windows wide:
Careless tenants, they!
Illustration by William Mulready to The deserted house, from Gems from Tennyson, Boston, 1866.
Via archive.org.
Home they brought her warrior dead:
She nor swoon’d, nor utter’d cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
“She must weep or she will die”
Illustration by Sol. Etynge Jr. to Home they brought her warrior dead, from Gems from Tennyson, Boston, 1866.
Via archive.org.
The long light shakes across the lakes
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Illustration by Samuel Colman Jr. to The splendor falls, from Gems from Tennyson, Boston, 1866.
Via archive.org.
Her kisses were so close and kind,
That, trust me on my word,
Hard wood I am, and wrinkled rind,
But yet my sap was stirr’d…
Illustration by C. A. Barry to The talking oak, from Gems from Tennyson, Boston, 1866.
Via archive.org.
And dropping bitter tears against his brow
Stiped with dark blood: for all his face was white
And colorless, and like the wither’d moon…
Illustration by D. Maclise to Morte D’arthur, from Gems from Tennyson, Boston, 1866.
Via archive.org.
Thou therefore take my brand Excalibur
Which was my pride: for thou remeberest how
In those old days, one summer noon, an arm
Rose up from out the bosom of the lake…
Illustration by D. Maclise to Morte D’arthur, from Gems from Tennyson, Boston, 1866.
Via archive.org.





