This afternoon, in Tennyson's  long poem, The Idylls of the King, I read the section called "Pelleas and Etarre", and absolutely loved the many beautiful descriptions, 

like ...  

damsels in divers colour like the cloud

Of sunset and sunrise

and 

... a moon 

With promise of large light on woods and ways 

and 

... up a slope of garden, all

Of roses white and red, and brambles mixt

And overgrowing them, went on, and found,

Here too, all hushed below the mellow moon,

Save that one rivulet from a tiny cave

Came lightening downward, and so spilt itself

Among the roses, and was lost again.