Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes
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We needs must love the highest when we see it.
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A doubtful throne is ice on summer seas.
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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.
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Who trusted God was love indeed And love Creation's final law Though Nature, red in tooth and claw With ravine, shrieked against his creed.
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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.
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Trust me not at all, or all in all.
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The mighty hopes that make us men.
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All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful past.
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God made thee good as thou art beautiful.
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To me He is all fault who hath no fault at all: For who loves me must have a touch of earth.
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Not wholly in the busy world, nor quite Beyond it, blooms the garden that I love. News from the humming city comes to it It sound of funeral or of marriage bells.
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I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul.
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He that wrongs his friend, wrongs himself more.
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Love is hurt with jar and fret; Love is made a vague regret.
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This round of green, this orb of flame, Fantastic beauty; such as lurks In some wild poet, when he works Without a conscience or an aim.
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Arise, go forth, and conquer as of old.
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I am any man's suitor, If any will be my tutor: Some say this life is pleasant, Some think it speedeth fast, In time there is no present, In eternity no future, In eternity no past. We laugh, we cry, we are born, we die. Who will riddle me the how and the why?
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The long mechanic pacings to and fro, The set, gray life, and apathetic end.
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As she fled fast through sun and shade The happy winds upon her play'd, Blowing the ringlet from the braid.
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All night have the roses heard The flute, violin, bassoon; All night has the casement jessamine stirr'd To the dancers dancing in tune; Till a silence fell with the waking bird, And a hush with the setting moon.
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And what delights can equal those That stir the spirit's inner deeps, When one that loves but knows not, reaps A truth from one that loves and knows?
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The wind sounds like a silver wire, And from beyond the noon a fire Is pour'd upon the hills, and nigher The skies stoop down in their desire; And, isled in sudden seas of light, My heart, pierced thro' with fierce delight, Bursts into blossom in his sight.
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The night comes on that knows not morn, When I shall cease to be all alone, To live forgotten, and love forlorn.
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And men, whose reason long was blind, From cells of madness unconfined, Oft lose whole years of darker mind.