Monday, October 6, 2008

Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead

 

 
 Home they brought her warrior dead: 
She nor swooned, nor uttered cry: 
All her maidens, watching, said, 
‘She must weep or she will die.’ 

Then they praised him, soft and low, 
Called him worthy to be loved, 
Truest friend and noblest foe; 
Yet she neither spoke nor moved. 

Stole a maiden from her place, 
Lightly to the warrior stepped, 
Took the face-cloth from the face; 
Yet she neither moved nor wept. 

Rose a nurse of ninety years, 
Set his child upon her knee— 
Like summer tempest came her tears— 
‘Sweet my child, I live for thee.’ 

Alfred Lord Tennyson
 

3 comments:

Sneha said...

This is one of the poems I still know by-heart from school oral examinations =)

swetha said...

i still remeber this whole poem by heart !!v had this in 8th std !! the teacher who explained made it so memorable too !!

Anonymous said...

High School Poem