Enoch Arden, &c.

Name: Enoch Arden, &c.
Author: Alfred Tennyson, Baron Tennyson

by Alfred Tennyson, Baron Tennyson

Pages: about 83
Category: Literature & Fiction
Language: English
Reading time: 1.5 h at 250 wpm

Start readingThe whole book, as cards or one word at a time. 51 min at 450 wpm in Read mode.

From the opening

Enoch Arden Aylmer's Field Sea Dreams The Grandmother Northern Farmer Miscellaneous. Tithonus The Voyage In the Valley of Cauteretz The Flower Requiescat The Sailor-Boy The Islet The Ringlet A Welcome to Alexandra Ode sung at the Opening of the International Exhibition A Dedication Experiments. Boadicea In Quantity Specimen of a Translation of the Iliad in Blank Verse
Long lines of cliff breaking have left a chasm; And in the chasm are foam and yellow sands; Beyond, red roofs about a narrow wharf In cluster; then a moulder'd church; and higher A long street climbs to one tall-tower'd mill; And high in heaven behind it a gray down With Danish barrows; and a hazelwood, By autumn nutters haunted, flourishes Green in a cuplike hollow of the down.
Here on this beach a hundred years ago, Three children of three houses, Annie Lee, The prettiest little damsel in the port, And Philip Ray the miller's only son, And Enoch Arden, a rough sailor's lad Made orphan by a winter shipwreck, play'd Among the waste and lumber of the shore, Hard coils of cordage, swarthy fishing-nets, Anchors of rusty fluke, and boats updrawn, And built their castles of dissolving sand To watch them overflow'd, or following up And flying the white breaker, daily left The little footprint daily wash'd away.
A narrow cave ran in beneath the cliff: In this the children play'd at keeping house. Enoch was host one day, Philip the next, While Annie still was mistress; but at times Enoch would hold possession for a week: 'This is my house and this my little wife.' 'Mine too' said Philip 'turn and turn about:' When, if they quarrell'd, Enoch stronger-made Was master: then would Philip, his blue eyes All flooded with the helpless wrath of tears, Shriek out 'I hate you, Enoch,' and at this The little wife would weep for company, And pray them not to quarrel for her sake, And say she would be little wife to both.

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Enoch Arden, &c.

From the opening

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