Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes
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Blind and naked ignorance delivers brawling judgments, unashamed, on all things all day long.
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A beam in darkness: let it grow.
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For this is England's greatest son, He that gain'd a hundred fights, And never lost an English gun.
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The city is built To music, therefore never built at all, And therefore built forever.
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Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever.
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...and our spirits rushed together at the touching of the lips.
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In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.
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Ah! well away! Seasons flower and fade.
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The words 'far, far away' had always a strange charm.
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Read my little fable: He that runs may read. Most can raise the flowers now, For all have got the seed.
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Happy he With such a mother! faith in womankind Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high Comes easy to him; and tho' he trip and fall, He shall not blind his soul with clay.
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Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.
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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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Old men must die, or the world would grow mouldy, would only breed the past again.
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And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers.
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For always roaming with a hungry heart.
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Lady, for indeed I loved you and I deemed you beautiful, I cannot brook to see your beauty marred Through evil spite: and if ye love me not, I cannot bear to dream you so forsworn: I had liefer ye were worthy of my love, Than to be loved again of you - farewell; And though ye kill my hope, not yet my love, Vex not yourself: ye will not see me more.
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The parting of a husband and wife is like the cleaving of a heart; one half will flutter here, one there.
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All things human change.
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Every man, for the sake of the great blessed Mother in Heaven, and for the love of his own little mother on earth, should handle all womankind gently, and hold them in all Honor.
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Believe me, than in half the creeds.
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This barren verbiage, current among men, Light coin, the tinsel clink of compliment.
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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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Tis held that sorrow makes us wise.