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Alfred Tennyson

张秉礼

张秉礼先生,天津人。我们班的精读教授之一。 张先生礼贤下士,对他的学生如朋友同事一般相处。因此张先生备受同学尊重。

水上公园全体
前排左起第三人张先生

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English Poet Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
 
Tennyson
Portrait of Tennyson
(This work of art is in the public domain.)

Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson was Poet Laureate of the United Kingdom and remains one of the most popular poets in the English language.Tennyson excelled at penning short lyrics, including "In the valley of Cauteretz", "Break, break, break", "The Charge of the Light Brigade", "Tears, idle tears" and "Crossing the Bar". Much of his verse was based on classical mythological themes, although In Memoriam A.H.H. was written to commemorate his best friend Arthur Hallam, a fellow poet and classmate at Trinity College, Cambridge, who was engaged to Tennyson's sister, but died from a cerebral hemorrhage before they were married. Tennyson also wrote some notable blank verse including Idylls of the King, Ulysses, and Tithonus. During his career, Tennyson attempted drama, but his plays enjoyed little success in his lifetime.Tennyson wrote a number of phrases that have become commoplaces of the English language, including: "Nature, red in tooth and claw", "'Tis better to have loved and lost / Than never to have loved at all", "Theirs not to reason why, / Theirs but to do and die", and "My strength is as the strength of ten, / Because my heart is pure". He is the second most frequently quoted writer in The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations, after Shakespeare.

Tennyson was born in Somersby, Lincolnshire, a rector's son and fourth of 12 children. Tennyson was first a student of Louth Grammar School for four years (1816–1820) and then attended Scaitcliffe School, Englefield Green and King Edward VI Grammar School, Louth. He entered Trinity College, Cambridge in 1827, where he joined a secret society called the Cambridge Apostles. At Cambridge Tennyson met Arthur Henry Hallam, who became his best friend. His first publication was a collection of "his boyish rhymes and those of his elder brother Charles" entitled Poems by Two Brothers published in 1827. In the spring of 1831, Tennyson's father died, requiring him to leave Cambridge before taking his degree. He returned to the rectory, where he was permitted to live for another six years, and shared responsibility for his widowed mother and the family. Arthur Hallam came to stay with his family during the summer and became engaged to Tennyson's sister, Emilia Tennyson.

After William Wordsworth's death in 1850, Tennyson succeeded to the position of Poet Laureate, which he held until his own death in 1892. He fulfilled the requirements of this position by turning out appropriate but often uninspired verse, such as a poem of greeting to Alexandra of Denmark when she arrived in Britain to marry the future King Edward VII. In 1855, Tennyson produced one of his best known works, "The Charge of the Light Brigade", a dramatic tribute to the British cavalrymen involved in an ill-advised charge on 25 October 1854, during the Crimean War. Other esteemed works written in the post of Poet Laureate include Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington and Ode Sung at the Opening of the International Exhibition. Queen Victoria was an ardent admirer of Tennyson's work, and in 1884 created him Baron Tennyson, of Aldworth in the County of Sussex and of Freshwater in the Isle of Wight. Tennyson initially declined a baronetcy in 1865 and 1868 (when tendered by Disraeli), finally accepting a peerage in 1883 at Gladstone's earnest solicitation. He took his seat in the House of Lords on 11 March 1884.

Tennyson continued writing into his eighties, and died on 6 October 1892, aged 83. He was buried at Westminster Abbey. A memorial was erected in All Saints' Church, Freshwater, Isle of Wight, England.

Tears, Idle Tears
by Lord Tennyson
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 birds
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes
The casement slowly grows a glimmering square;
So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.

Dear as remembered kisses after death,
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd
On lips that are for others; deep as love,
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;
O Death in Life, the days that are no more!

abby
Tinterna Abbey inspired by Tennyson's poem "Tears, Idle Tears".
(This picture is in the public domain.)

BREAK, BREAK, BREAK

by LordTennyson

        BREAK, break, break,
        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!
         
        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!
         
        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.

         

      The Eagle
      by Lord Tennyson
        He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
        Close to the sun in lonely lands,
        Ringed with the azure world, he stands.

        The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
        He watches from his mountain walks,
        And like a thunderbolt he falls.


The Charge Of The Light Brigade
by Lord Tennyson

HALF a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
'Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!' he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd ?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.

Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel'd from the sabre-stroke
Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade ?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder'd.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!
          Come Down, O Maid
          by Lord Tennyson
          COME down, O maid, from yonder mountain height:
          What pleasure lives in height (the shepherd sang),
          In height and cold, the splendour of the hills?
          But cease to move so near the Heavens, and cease
          To glide a sunbeam by the blasted Pine,
          To sit a star upon the sparkling spire;
          And come, for Love is of the valley, come,
          For Love is of the valley, come thou down
          And find him; by the happy threshold, he,
          Or hand in hand with Plenty in the maize,
          Or red with spirted purple of the vats,
          Or foxlike in the vine; nor cares to walk
          With Death and Morning on the silver horns,
          Nor wilt thou snare him in the white ravine,
          Nor find him dropt upon the firths of ice,
          That huddling slant in furrow-cloven falls
          To roll the torrent out of dusky doors:
          But follow; let the torrent dance thee down
          To find him in the valley; let the wild
          Lean-headed Eagles yelp alone, and leave
          The monstrous ledges there to slope, and spill
          Their thousand wreaths of dangling water-smoke
          That like a broken purpose waste in air:
          So waste not thou; but come; for all the vales
          Await thee; azure pillars of the hearth
          Arise to thee; the children call, and I
          Thy shepherd pipe, and sweet is every sound,
          Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet;
          Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn,
          The moan of doves is immemorial elms,
          And murmuring of innumberable bees.

CROSSING THE BAR
by Lord Tennyson

SUNSET and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
 
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
 
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
 
For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.
 

IN THE GARDEN AT SWAINSTON

by Lord Tennyson

    NIGHTINGALES warbled without,
    Within was weeping for thee:
    Shadows of three dead men
    Walk'd in the walks with me:
    Shadows of three dead men, and thou wast one of the three.
     
    Nightingales sang in the woods:
    The Master was far away:
    Nightingales warbled and sang
    Of a passion that lasts but a day;
    Still in the house in his coffin the Prince of courtesy lay.
     
    Two dead men have I known
    In courtesy like to thee:
    Two dead men have I loved
    With a love that ever will be:
    Three dead men have I loved, and thou art last of the three.

In the Valley of Cauteretz
by Lord Tennyson
All along the valley, stream that flashest white,
Deepening thy voice with the deepening of the night,
All along the valley, where thy waters flow,
I walk'd with one I loved two and thirty years ago.
All along the valley, while I walk'd to-day,
The two and thirty years were a mist that rolls away;
For all along the valley, down thy rocky bed,
Thy living voice to me was as the voice of the dead,
And all along the valley, by rock and cave and tree,
The voice of the dead was a living voice to me

Ode on the Death of the Duke of
Wellington
(I,II,III)
by Lord Tennyson

I


BURY the Great Duke
With an empire’s lamentation,
Let us bury the Great Duke
To the noise of the mourning of a mighty nation,
Mourning when their leaders fall,
Warriors carry the warrior’s pall,
And sorrow darkens hamlet and hall.
 
II

Where shall we lay the man whom we deplore?
Here, in streaming London’s central roar.
Let the sound of those he wrought for,
And the feet of those he fought for,
Echo round his bones for evermore.
 
III

Lead out the pageant: sad and slow,
As fits an universal woe,
Let the long long procession go,
And let the sorrowing crowd about it grow,
And let the mournful martial music blow;
The last great Englishman is low.
 

Tennyson3
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
(This picture is in the public domain.)
Tennysonreading
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
(This work of art in the public domain.)
tennisonresidence
The Farringford House - Lord Tennyson's residence on the Isle of Wight, England.
(This work of art is in the pubic domain.)
Tennysonfamily
Tennyson with his wife Emily (1813-1896) and his sons Hallam (1852-1928)
and Lionel (1854-1886)

(This picture is in the public domain.)
TennysoninArbor
Sketch of Alfred Tennyson published one year after his death in 1892,
seated in his favourite arbour
at his Farringford House home in the village of Freshwater, Isle of Wight, England.

(This work of art is in the public domain.)
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