Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 119 by ALFRED TENNYSON

Poet Analysis

First Line: DOORS, WHERE MY HEART WAS USED TO BEAT
Last Line: I TAKE THE PRESSURE OF THINE HAND.
Subject(s): EASTER; HOLIDAYS; THE RESURRECTION;
Doors, where my heart was used to beat
So quickly, not as one that weeps
I come once more; the city sleeps;
I smell the meadow in the street;

I hear a chirp of birds; I see
Betwixt the black fronts long-withdrawn
A light-blue lane of early dawn,
And think of early days and thee,

And bless thee, for thy lips are bland,
And bright the friendship of thine eye;
And in my thoughts with scarce a sigh
I take the pressure of thine hand.



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