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Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Home they brought her warrior dead:
      She nor swoon'd nor utter'd cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
      "She must weep or she will die."

Then they praised him, soft and low,
      Call'd 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."

FREE AND OPEN: Hello Doggo recordings and artwork: CC0 1.0, credit optional. The source poem has its own rights status: Poem is public domain.

TEXT PROVENANCE · First published 1850 in the third edition of The Princess: A Medley · Text from the University of Toronto Libraries’ Representative Poetry Online, which cites The Princess: A Medley (3rd ed., 1850) and Works (Macmillan, 1891).

Representative Poetry Online, 3RP 3.58 (editor H. M. McLuhan); original texts: The Princess: A Medley, 3rd ed. (1850), and Works (Macmillan, 1891)

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