Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes
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And on her lover's arm she leant, And round her waist she felt it fold, And far across the hills they went In that new world which is the old.
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Of happy men that have the power to die, And grassy barrows of the happier dead.
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There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass.
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This barren verbiage, current among men, Light coin, the tinsel clink of compliment.
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And wheresoe'er thou move, good luck Shall fling her old shoe after.
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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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Thoroughly to believe in one's own self, so one's self were thorough, were to do great things.
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Dark house, by which once more I stand Here in the long unlovely street, Doors, where my heart was used to beat So quickly, waiting for a hand, A hand that can be clasp'd no more - Behold me, for I cannot sleep, And like a guilty thing I creep At earliest morning to the door. He is not here; but far away The noise of life begins again, And ghastly thro' the drizzling rain On the bald street breaks the blank day.
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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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I am on fire within. There comes no murmur of reply. What is it that will take away my sin, And save me lest I die?
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Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new.
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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 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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I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope thro' darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.
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Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls.
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I loved you, and my love had no return, And therefore my true love has been my death.
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God and Nature met in light.
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Come, my friends Tis not too late to seek a newer world Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die.
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Faith lives in honest doubt.
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The last great Englishman is low.
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Because right is right, to follow right Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.
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Never, oh! never, nothing will die; The stream flows, The wind blows, The cloud fleets, The heart beats, Nothing will die.
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The golden guess is morning-star to the full round of truth.
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A life of nothing's nothing worth, From that first nothing ere his birth, To that last nothing under earth.