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Books Books 81 - 90 of 141 on A hand that can be clasp'd no more — Behold me, for I cannot sleep, And like a....
" A hand that can be clasp'd no more — Behold me, for I cannot sleep, And like a guilty thing I creep At earliest morning to the door. He is not here ; but far away The noise of life begins again, And ghastly thro' the drizzling rain On the bald street... "
In memoriam - Page 9
by Baron Alfred Tennyson Tennyson - 1850 - 210 pages
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Rab & his friends, & other papers & essays. Repr

John Brown - 1907
...persons, by an increasing thoughtfulness, and a fondness for a class of books, which in general are 1 " Dark house, by which once more I stand Here in the long unlovely street ; Doors, where my heart was wont to beat So quickly, waiting for a hand." In Memoriam. so little intelligible to boys of his age,...
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Select Poems of Alfred Tennyson

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1907 - 290 pages
...the sea, that separates like death. ii. Touch of a vanished hand. Cf. h Memoriam, VH, and iHJ. x, ' Doors, where my heart was used to beat So quickly, waiting for a hand," " And hands so often clasp'd in mine Should toss with tangle and with shells," also ibid, xin, 6, 7,...
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The Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson, Volume 2

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1908
...father was writing to Arthur Hallam in the hour that he died. — ED.] p. 293. Section vn. Verse i. Dark house, by which once more I stand Here in the long unlovely street. 67 Wimpole Street [the house of the historian Henry Hallam. AHH used to say, " You will always find...
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The Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson, Volume 2

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1908
...father was writing to Arthur Hallam in the hour that he died. — ED.] /. 293. Section vn. Verse i. Dark house, by which once more I stand Here in the long unlo1'ely street. 67 Wimpole Street [the house of the historian Henry Hallam. AHH used to say, " You...
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The Making of Poetry: A Critical Study of Its Nature and Value

Arthur Henry Rolph Fairchild - Poetry - 1912 - 263 pages
...is to arouse rfeeling. Tennyson, in restless grief, goes at early morning to visit Hallam's house: "Dark house, by which once more I stand Here in the...At earliest morning to the door. "He is not here; but/ar away . The noise of life begins again, And ghastly thro' the drizzling rain On the bald street...
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In Memoriam

Alfred Tennyson Baron Tennyson - 1912 - 275 pages
...And what to me remains of good ? To her, perpetual maidenhood,0 And unto me no second friend.0 VII DARK house, by which once more I stand Here in the long unlovely street,0 Doors, where my heart was used to beat So quickly,0 waiting for a hand, A hand that can be...
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The works of Tennyson

Baron Alfred Tennyson Tennyson - 1913 - 1017 pages
...And what to me remains of go. id? To her, perpetual maidenhood, And unto me no second friend. desire, love The people ! whom God aid ! Feria. You will be...hlizabc/h. Wherefore pause you — what? Feria. Nay, л hand, A hand that can be clasp'd no more — Behold me, for I cannot sleep, . And like a guilty...
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The Leading English Poets from Chaucer to Browning

Lucius Hudson Holt - English poetry - 1915 - 918 pages
...time with his father in London in 67 Wimpole Street, referred to in ' In Memoriam,' vii. : — Drk o, Freedom, no, I will not tell How Rome, before thy weeping face, Arthur used to say to his friends, ' You know you will always find us at sixes and sevens.' _At the...
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More Nineteenth Century Studies: A Group of Honest Doubters

Basil Willey - Literary Criticism - 1980 - 304 pages
...that of loss and dereliction, and this is communicated through a picture of London at its dreariest : 'Dark house, by which once more I stand Here in the...So quickly, waiting for a hand, A hand that can be clasp 'd no more — Behold me, for I cannot sleep, And like a guilty thing I creep At earliest morning...
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A Choice of Poets: An Anthology of Poets from Wordsworth to the Present Day

Ronald Proctor Hewett - 1985 - 318 pages
...courts, 75 And thec returning on thv silver wheels. Tennyson / from In Memoriam [97] from In Memoriam VII Dark house, by which once more I stand Here in the...heart was used to beat So quickly, waiting for a hand, 4 A hand that can be clasp'd no more — Behold me, for I cannot sleep, And like a guilty thing I creep...
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