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But what am I? An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light: And with no language but a cry.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
As the husband is the wife is; thou art mated with a clown, As the grossness of his nature will have weight to drag thee down.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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I found Him in the shining of the stars.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
Many a night I saw the Pleiads, Rising thro' the mellow shade, Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies, Tangled in a silver braid.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
We love but while we may; And therefore is my love so large for thee, Seeing it is not bounded save by love.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
Attain the unattainable.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
Like glimpses of forgotten dreams.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
Here at the quiet limit of the world.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Tis not your work, but Love's. Love, unperceived, A more ideal Artist he than all, Came, drew your pencil from you, made those eyes Darker than the darkest pansies, and that hair More black than ashbuds in the front of March.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
Thou madest man, he knows not why, he thinks he was not made to die.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
France had shown a light to all men, preached a Gospel, all men's good; Celtic Demos rose a Demon, shriek'd and slaked the light with blood.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
Dowered with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
Love lieth deep; Love dwells not in lip – depths; Love laps his wings on either side the heart Absorbing all the incense of sweet thoughts, So that they pass not to the shrine of sound.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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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?
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
Gone - flitted away, Taken the stars from the night and the sun From the day! Gone, and a cloud in my heart.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
It is the little rift within the lute That by and by will make the music mute, And ever widening slowly silence all.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
The year is dying in the night.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
A man had given all other bliss, And all his worldly worth for this To waste his whole heart in one kiss Upon her perfect lips.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
A still small voice spake unto me, 'Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
Of old sat Freedom on the heights The thunders breaking at her feet: Above her shook the starry lights; She heard the torrents meet.
Alfred Lord Tennyson -
Oh that it were possible, After long grief and pain, To find the arms of my true love, Around me once again.
Alfred Lord Tennyson