The Oak

A poem by Alfred Tennyson

Live thy Life,
Young and old,
Like yon oak,
Bright in spring,
Living gold;

Then; and then
Gold again.

All his leaves
Fall'n at length,
Look, he stands,
Trunk and bough
Naked strength.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'The Oak' by Alfred Tennyson

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy