Explore "Tennyson" by James McIntyre on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Of our Laureate we now do sing, / His youthful muse had daring wing, / He then despised Baronhood, / And sang 'twas noble to be good.
None sang like him of knights of old, / He England's glory did uphold;
In wondrous song he hath arrayed / Glorious charge of light brigade, / And he hath the people's benison, / Greatest of living poets Tennyson.