Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes
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Tis held that sorrow makes us wise.
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Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.
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Love's arms were wreathed about the neck of Hope, And Hope kiss'd Love, and Love drew in her breath In that close kiss and drank her whisper'd tales. They said that Love would die when Hope was gone. And Love mourn'd long, and sorrow'd after Hope; At last she sought out Memory, and they trod The same old paths where Love had walked with Hope, And Memory fed the soul of Love with tears.
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A truth looks freshest in the fashions of the day.
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Let observation with extended observation observe extensively.
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And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the summer sea, But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the fifty-three.
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Faith is believing what we cannot prove.
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And down I went to fetch my bride: But, Alice, you were ill at ease; This dress and that by turns you tried, Too fearful that you should not please. I loved you better for your fears, I knew you could not look but well; And dews, that would have fall'n in tears, I kiss'd away before they fell.
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O hark,O hear! how thin and clear And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
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The city is built To music, therefore never built at all, And therefore built forever.
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The golden guess is morning-star to the full round of truth.
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What's up is faith, what's down is heresy.
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Live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind. For they lie beside their nectar, and the bolts are hurled Far below them in the valleys, and the clouds are lightly curled Round their golden houses, girdled with the gleaming world.
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O Blackbird! sing me something well: While all the neighbors shoot thee round, I keep smooth plats of fruitful ground, Where thou may'st warble, eat and dwell.
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We are self-uncertain creatures, and we may Yea, even when we know not, mix our spites And private hates with our defence of Heaven.
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That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright, But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight.
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I grow in worth, and wit, and sense, Unboding critic-pen, Or that eternal want of pence, Which vexes public men.
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It is unconceivable that the whole Universe was merely created for us who live in this third-rate planet of a third-rate moon.
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Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.
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And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers.
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Happy days roll onward leading up to golden years.
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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.
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I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley.
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Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.