Come not, when I am dead, To drop thy foolish tears upon my grave, To trample [round]1 my fallen head, And vex the unhappy dust thou wouldst not save. There let the wind sweep and the plover cry; But thou, go by. Child, if it were thine error or thy crime I care no longer, being all unblest: Wed whom thou wilt, but I am sick of Time, And I desire to rest. Pass on, weak heart, and leave me where I lie: Go by, go by.
Three Poems by Alfred Tennyson
Song Cycle by Klaus Miehling (b. 1963)
1. Come not, when I am dead  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
Authorship:
- by Alfred Tennyson, Lord (1809 - 1892), "Stanzas", appears in Keepsake, first published 1850, rev. 1851
See other settings of this text.
View original text (without footnotes)1 Rogers: "on"
Researcher for this page: Sharon Krebs [Guest Editor]
2. Every day hath its night  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
I Every day hath its night: Every night its morn: Through dark and bright Wingèd hours are borne; Ah! welaway! Seasons flower and fade; Golden calm and storm Mingle day by day. There is no bright form Doth not cast a shade — Ah! welaway! II When we laugh, and our mirth Apes the happy vein, We're so kin to earth Pleasuance fathers pain — Ah! welaway! Madness laugheth loud: Laughter bringeth tears: Eyes are worn away Till the end of fears Cometh in the shroud, Ah! welaway! III All is change, woe or weal; Joy is sorrow's brother; Grief and sadness steal Symbols of each other; Ah! welaway! Larks in heaven's cope Sing: the culvers mourn All the livelong day. Be not all forlorn; Let us weep in hope — Ah! welaway!
Authorship:
- by Alfred Tennyson, Lord (1809 - 1892), "Song"
Go to the single-text view
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]3. ͑οι ͑ρέοντες  [sung text not yet checked]
Language: English
I All thoughts, all creeds, all dreams are true, All visions wild and strange; Man is the measure of all truth Unto himself. All truth is change: All men do walk in sleep, and all Have faith in that they dream: For all things are as they seem to all, And all things flow like a stream. II There is no rest, no calm, no pause, Nor good nor ill, nor light nor shade, Nor essence nor eternal laws: For nothing is, but all is made, But if I dream that all these are, They are to me for that I dream; For all things are as they seem to all, And all things flow like a stream.
Authorship:
- by Alfred Tennyson, Lord (1809 - 1892), "οἱ ρἑοντες"
Go to the single-text view
Argal. — This very opinion is only true relatively to the flowing philosophers. (Tennyson's note.)Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
Total word count: 338