The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Quotations (427 page)
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Authors: Elizabeth Knowles
1809–92
Break, break, break,
On thy cold grey stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.
"Break, Break, Break" (1842)
And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill;
But O for the touch of a vanished hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!
"Break, Break, Break" (1842)
I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.
"The Brook" (1855) l. 23
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
"The Brook" (1855) l. 33
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
"The Charge of the Light Brigade" (1854)
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismayed?
Not though the soldier knew
Some one had blundered:
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
Volleyed and thundered.
"The Charge of the Light Brigade" (1854)
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell.
"The Charge of the Light Brigade" (1854)
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.
"Crossing the Bar" (1889)
For though 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 crossed the bar.
"Crossing the Bar" (1889)
A dream of fair women.
title of poem (1832)
A daughter of the gods, divinely tall,
And most divinely fair.
"A Dream of Fair Women" (1832) l. 87
He clasps the crag with crookèd 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 walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
"The Eagle" (1851)
And when they buried him the little port
Had seldom seen a costlier funeral.
"Enoch Arden" (1864)
More black than ashbuds in the front of March.
"The Gardener's Daughter" (1842) l. 28
I waited for the train at Coventry.
"Godiva" (1842) l. 1
Wearing the white flower of a blameless life,
Before a thousand peering littlenesses,
In that fierce light which beats upon a throne,
And blackens every blot.
of Prince Albert
Idylls of the King
(1862 ed.) dedication l. 24
Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful.
Idylls of the King
"The Coming of Arthur" (1869) l. 284; "The Passing of Arthur" (1869) l. 199
From the great deep to the great deep he goes.
Idylls of the King
"The Coming of Arthur" (1869) l. 410
We needs must love the highest when we see it.
Idylls of the King
"Guinevere" (1859) l. 655
Elaine the fair, Elaine the loveable,
Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat.
Idylls of the King
"Lancelot and Elaine" (1859) l. 1
His honour rooted in dishonour stood,
And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true.
Idylls of the King
"Lancelot and Elaine" (1859) l. 871
It is the little rift within the lute,
That by and by will make the music mute.
Idylls of the King
"Merlin and Vivien" (1859) l. 388
And trust me not at all or all in all.
Idylls of the King
"Merlin and Vivien" (1859) l. 396
Man dreams of fame while woman wakes to love.
Idylls of the King
"Merlin and Vivien" (1859) l. 458
So all day long the noise of battle rolled
Among the mountains by the winter sea.
Idylls of the King
"The Passing of Arthur" (1869) l. 170
Authority forgets a dying king.
Idylls of the King
"The Passing of Arthur" (1869) l. 289
The old order changeth, yielding place to new,
And God fulfils himself in many ways,
Lest one good custom should corrupt the world.
Idylls of the King
"The Passing of Arthur" (1869) l. 408
More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of.
Idylls of the King
"The Passing of Arthur" (1869) l. 415
To the island-valley of Avilion;
Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow,
Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies
Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard lawns.
Idylls of the King
"The Passing of Arthur" (1869) l. 427
The last red leaf is whirled away,
The rooks are blown about the skies.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 15
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 27.
But what am I?
An infant crying in the night:
An infant crying for the light:
And with no language but a cry.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 54
So careful of the type she seems,
So careless of the single life.
of Nature
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 55
Nature, red in tooth and claw.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 56
So many worlds, so much to do,
So little done, such things to be.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 73.
Laburnums, dropping-wells of fire.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 83
Fresh from brawling courts
And dusty purlieus of the law.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 89.
You tell me, doubt is Devil-born.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 96
There lives more faith in honest doubt,
Believe me, than in half the creeds.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 96
Their meetings made December June,
Their every parting was to die.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 97
He seems so near and yet so far.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 97
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 106
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 106
Ring out the darkness of the land;
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 106
Not the schoolboy heat,
The blind hysterics of the Celt.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 109
And drowned in yonder living blue
The lark becomes a sightless song.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 115
Wearing all that weight
Of learning lightly like a flower.
In Memoriam A. H. H.
(1850) canto 131
There hath he lain for ages and will lie
Battening upon huge seaworms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep.
"The Kraken" (1830)
Kind hearts are more than coronets,
And simple faith than Norman blood.
"Lady Clara Vere de Vere" (1842) st. 7
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And through the field the road runs by
To many-towered Camelot.
"The Lady of Shalott" (1832, revised 1842) pt. 1
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver.
"The Lady of Shalott" (1832, revised 1842) pt. 1
"I am half sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shalott.
"The Lady of Shalott" (1832, revised 1842) pt. 2
She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces through the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She looked down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror cracked from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.
"The Lady of Shalott" (1832, revised 1842) pt. 3
Airy, fairy Lilian.
"Lilian" (1830)
In the spring a livelier iris changes on the burnished dove;
In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
"Locksley Hall" (1842) l. 19
He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force,
Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.
"Locksley Hall" (1842) l. 49
Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new:
That which they have done but earnest of the things that they shall do:
"Locksley Hall" (1842) l. 117
Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales.
"Locksley Hall" (1842) l. 122
Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rained a ghastly dew
From the nations' airy navies grappling in the central blue;
"Locksley Hall" (1842) l. 123
Till the war-drum throbbed no longer, and the battle-flags were furled
In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the world.
"Locksley Hall" (1842) l. 127
Science moves, but slowly slowly, creeping on from point to point.
"Locksley Hall" (1842) l. 134
I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time.
"Locksley Hall" (1842) l. 178
Forward, forward let us range,
Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.
"Locksley Hall" (1842) l. 181
Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.
"Locksley Hall" (1842) l. 184
Music that gentlier on the spirit lies,
Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes.
"The Lotos-Eaters" (1832) Choric Song, st. 1
Weeded and worn the ancient thatch
Upon the lonely moated grange.
She only said, "My life is dreary,
He cometh not," she said;
She said, "I am aweary, aweary,
I would that I were dead!"
"Mariana" (1830) st. 1.
I hate that dreadful hollow behind the little wood.
Maud
(1855) pt. 1, sect. 1