Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes
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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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O son, thou hast not true humility, The highest virtue, mother of them all; But her thou hast not know; for what is this? Thou thoughtest of thy prowess and thy sins Thou hast not lost thyself to save thyself.
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Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls.
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I know that age to age succeeds, Blowing a noise of tongues and deeds, A dust of systems and of creeds.
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Courtesy wins woman all as well. As valor may, but he that closes both is perfect.
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For always roaming with a hungry heart.
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This barren verbiage, current among men, Light coin, the tinsel clink of compliment.
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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 wheresoe'er thou move, good luck Shall fling her old shoe after.
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Shall eagles not be eagles? wrens be wrens? If all the world were falcons, what of that? The wonder of the eagle were the less, But he not less the eagle.
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The golden guess is morning-star to the full round of truth.
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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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There is always change, bad customs pass and give way to better ones.
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And blessings on the falling out That all the more endears, When we fall out with those we love And kiss again with tears!
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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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And so the Word had breath, and wrought With human hands the creed of creeds In loveliness of perfect deeds, More strong than all poetic thoughts; Which he may read that binds the sheaf, Or builds the house, or digs the grave, And those wild eyes that watch the waves In roarings round the coral reef.
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A still small voice spake unto me, 'Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?
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Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land; Ring in the Christ that is to be.
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The thrall in person may be free in soul.
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We are ancients of the earth, And in the morning of the times.
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The words 'far, far away' had always a strange charm.
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And was the day of my delight As pure and perfect as I say?
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Not once or twice in our rough island story, The path of duty was the way to glory.
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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.