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iswearenglish: On Finding a Small Fly Crushed in a Book by Charles Tennyson Turner - Summary Analysis - Death 1808 - 1879

dore_alva: 'Regrets which are not thrust upon thee, seek not' - Charles Tennyson Turner

litcharts: New guide! On Finding a Small Fly by Charles Tennyson Turner

kbourrier: Another transcription problem! Can anyone read this letter, describing Louisa Tennyson Turner's attempt to save her husband Charles (Alfred's brother) from opium addiction? High church tendencies + opium are leading to things like dangerous fasting for the pair:

fraveris: The rainbow bursts like magic on mine eyes! In hues of ancient promise there imprest... ~ Charles Tennyson Turner ~ Art by David Newton

microbius: 'One regulation afternoon spent dodging a jogger whose merest huff’s deadly as gunshot. Zigzag tacks across the grass.' Charles Tennyson Turner - almost ...

Better_BP: Charles Tennyson Turner's poem "On startling some pigeons" is our BTP Library Poem of the Week, after our flying friends. Wishing you all a cosy week ahead!

_M_D_F_: In pity for the mighty chief, who bled Beside his rival's statue, I delay'd To serve the little insect's present need; And so he died for lack of human aid. I could not change the Roman's destiny; I might have set the honey-maker free. --Charles Tennyson Turner, Ibid. 3/3

ChurchesFest: Grasby • All Saints - Open: 18-19th May - high in the Lincolnshire Wolds, overlooking the Ancholme Valley. The church is included in the “Tennyson Trail” because Charles Tennyson Turner (Alfred’s brother) was a vicar here. Their webpage:

elizabethalbell: It was a perfect night for a train. The occasional whistle told Louis of all the farewells he had ever known. -Charles Tennyson Turner

beepersprout: The rainbow bursts like magic on mine eyes! In hues of ancient promise there imprest; - Charles Tennyson Turner

moonglowcharmed: The rainbow bursts like magic on mine eyes! In hues of ancient promise there imprest...~Charles Tennyson Turner...



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Poem of the day

Charles Baudelaire Poem
Spleen I
 by Charles Baudelaire

Pluviôse, irrité contre la ville entière,
De son urne à grands flots verse un froid ténébreux
Aux pâles habitants du voisin cimetière
Et la mortalité sur les faubourgs brumeux.

Mon chat sur le carreau cherchant une litière
Agite sans repos son corps maigre et galeux;
L'âme d'un vieux poète erre dans la gouttière
...

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