Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes
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I will love thee to the death, And out beyond into the dream to come.
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Rich in saving common-sense, And, as the greatest only are, In his simplicity sublime.
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This barren verbiage, current among men, Light coin, the tinsel clink of compliment.
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My life has crept so long on a broken wing Through cells of madness, haunts of horror and fear, That I come to be grateful at last for a little thing.
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The thrall in person may be free in soul.
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Nothing in Nature is unbeautiful.
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I am on fire within. There comes no murmur of reply. What is it that will take away my sin, And save me lest I die?
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I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope thro' darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.
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I found Him in the shining of the stars.
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If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.
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God and Nature met in light.
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I thought I could not breathe in that fine air That pure severity of perfect light I yearned for warmth and colour which I found In Lancelot.
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You, methinks you think you love me well; For me, I love you somewhat; rest: and Love Should have some rest and pleasure in himself, Not ever be too curious for a boon, Too prurient for a proof against the grain Of him ye say ye love: but Fame with men, Being but ampler means to serve mankind, Should have small rest or pleasure in herself, But work as vassal to the larger love, That dwarfs the petty love of one to one.
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There is no land like England, Where'er the light of day be; There are no hearts like English hearts, Such hearts of oak as they be; There is no land like England, Where'er the light of day be: There are no men like Englishmen, So tall and bold as they be! And these will strike for England, And man and maid be free To foil and spoil the tyrant Beneath the greenwood tree.
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Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depths of some devine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.
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Nature, so far as in her lies, imitates God.
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Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and I linger on the shore, And the individual withers, and the world is more and more.
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For love reflects the thing beloved.
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Bible reading is an education in itself.
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Of love that never found his earthly close, What sequel? Streaming eyes and breaking hearts; Or all the same as if he had not been?
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The passionate heart of the poet is whirled into folly and vice.
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Our little systems have their day; They have their day and cease to be… And thou, O Lord, art more than they.
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There she weaves by night and day, A magic web with colors gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay, To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott.
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Love will conquer at the last.