Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes
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What the sunshine is to the flower, the Lord Jesus Christ is to my soul.
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What! I should call on that Infinite Love that has served us so well? Infinite cruelty rather, that made everlasting hell, Made us, foreknew us, foredoom'd us, and does what he will with his own; Better our dead brute mother who never has heard us groan.
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For this alone on Death I wreak The wrath that garners in my heart: He put our lives so far apart We cannot hear each other speak.
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The old order changeth yielding place to new And God fulfills himself in many ways Lest one good custom should corrupt the world. Comfort thyself: what comfort is in me I have lived my life and that which I have done May he within himself make pure but thou If thou shouldst never see my face again Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.
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All is well, tho' faith and form Be sunder'd in the night of fear.
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I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time.
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Words, like nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within.
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Wearing all that weight Of learning lightly like a flower.
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Battering the gates of heaven with the storms of prayer.
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He makes no friends who never made a foe.
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Who is wise in love, love most, say least.
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There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate. She is coming, my dove, my dear; She is coming, my life, my fate; The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;" And the white rose weeps, "She is late;" The larkspur listens, "I hear; I hear;" And the lily whispers, "I wait."
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Blow trumpet, for the world is white with May.
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I must lose myself in action, lest I wither in despair.
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Men at most differ as Heaven and Earth, but women, worst and best, as Heaven and Hell.
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If you don't concentrate on what you are doing then the thing that you are doing is not what you are thinking.
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Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control; these three alone lead life to sovereign power.
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A day may sink or save a realm.
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Ah, Christ, that it were possible, For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.
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And ah for a man to arise in me, That the man I am may cease to be!
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'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
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It is hard to wive and thrive both in a year.
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The time draws near the birth of Christ; The moon is hid; the night is still; The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist.
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I stood on a tower in the wet, And New Year and Old Year met, And winds were roaring and blowing: And I said, "O years, that meet in tears, Have ye aught that is worth the knowing? Science enough and exploring, Wanderers coming and going, Matter enough for deploring, But aught that is worth the knowing?