Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes
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The mighty hopes that make us men.
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Believe me, than in half the creeds.
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He that wrongs a friend Wrongs himself more, and ever bears about A silent court of justice in his breast, Himself the judge and jury, and himself The prisoner at the bar ever condemned.
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Any man that walks the mead In bud, or blade, or bloom, may find, According as his humors lead, A meaning suited to his mind.
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Come, Time, and teach me many years, I do not suffer in dream; For now so strange do these things seem, Mine eyes have leisure for their tears.
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Arise, go forth, and conquer as of old.
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Willows whiten, aspens quiver, little breezes dusk and shiver, thro' the wave that runs forever by the island in the river, flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls and four gray towers, overlook a space of flowers, and the silent isle imbowers, the Lady of Shalott.
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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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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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Thou madest man, he knows not why, he thinks he was not made to die.
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Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon: Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.
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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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Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange.
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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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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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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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Trust me not at all, or all in all.
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I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul.
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Here at the quiet limit of the world.
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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.
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And the days darken round me, and the years, Among new men, strange faces, other minds.
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And men, whose reason long was blind, From cells of madness unconfined, Oft lose whole years of darker mind.
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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.