Top 100 Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes
#1. So I find every pleasant spot In which we two were wont to meet, The field, the chamber, and the street, For all is dark where thou art not
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#3. It is unconceivable that the whole Universe was merely created for us who live in this third-rate planet of a third-rate moon.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#4. Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar When I put out to sea.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#5. What is it all but a trouble of ants in the gleam of a million million of suns?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#6. You must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear; To-morrow'll be the happiest time of all the glad New Year,- Of all the glad New Year, mother, the maddest, merriest day; For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be queen o' the May.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#7. You may tell me that my hand and foot are only imaginary symbols of my existence. I could believe you, but you never, never can convince me that the I is not an eternal reality, and that the spiritual is not the true and real part of me.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#9. All the windy ways of men Are but dust that rises up, And is lightly laid again.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#11. A pasty costly-made, Where quail and pigeon, lark and leveret lay, Like fossils of the rock, with golden yolks Imbedded and injellied.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#13. I came in haste with cursing breath, And heart of hardest steel; But when I saw thee cold in death, I felt as man should feel. For when I look upon that face, That cold, unheeding, frigid brown, Where neither rage nor fear has place, By Heaven! I cannot hate thee now!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#14. 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?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#15. The woman's cause is man's. They rise or sink Together. / Dwarf'd or godlike, bound or free; miserable, / How shall men grow? - Let her be / All that not harms distinctive womanhood.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#16. An English homegrey twilight poured On dewy pasture, dewy trees, Softer than sleepall things in order stored, A haunt of ancient Peace.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#18. To me He is all fault who hath no fault at all: For who loves me must have a touch of earth.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#19. 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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#25. Launch your vessel, And crowd your canvas, And, ere it vanishes Over the margin, After it, follow it, FollowThe Gleam.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#27. I have led her home, my love, my only friend. There is none like her, none, And never yet so warmly ran my blood, And sweetly, on and on Calming itself to the long-wished for end, Full to the banks, close on the prom- ised good.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#28. Every man at time of Death,
Would fain set forth some saying that may live
After his death and better humankind;
For death gives life's last word a power to live,
And, lie the stone-cut epitaph, remain
After the vanished voice, and speak to men.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#29. Cricket, however, has more in it than mere efficiency. There is something called the spirit of cricket, which cannot be defined.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#30. But the churchmen fain would kill their church, As the churches have kill'd their Christ.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#32. Woman is the lesser man, and all thy passions, match'd with mine,
Are as moonlight unto sunlight, and as water unto wine.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#34. The smell of violets, hidden in the green, Pour'd back into my empty soul and frame The times when I remembered to have been Joyful and free from blame.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#35. The time draws near the birth of Christ;
The moon is hid; the night is still;
The Christmas bells from hill to hill
Answer each other in the mist.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#37. Yet is there one true line, the pearl of pearls:
Man dreams of Fame while woman wakes to love.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#39. Sweet is true love that is given in vain, and sweet is death that takes away pain.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#43. Earth is dry to the center,
But spring, a new comer,
A spring rich and strange,
Shall make the winds blow
Round and round,
Thro' and thro' ,
Here and there,
Till the air
And the ground
Shall be fill'd with life anew.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#45. We cannot be kind to each other here for even an hour. We whisper, and hint, and chuckle and grin at our brother's shame; however you take it we men are a little breed.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#46. In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove;
In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#47. Once in a golden hour, I cast to earth a seed, And up there grew a flower, That others called a weed.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#50. I built my soul a lordly pleasure-house, Wherein at ease for aye to dwell.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#51. France had shown a light to all men, preached a Gospel, all men's good; Celtic Demos rose a Demon, shriek'd and slaked the light with blood.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#53. What are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#54. But for the unquiet heart and brain
A use in measured language lies;
The sad mechanic exercise
Like dull narcotics numbing pain.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#55. O Love! they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow! set the wild echoes flying! And answer, echoes, answer! dying, dying, dying.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#56. 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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#57. And blessings on the falling out That all the more endears, When we fall out with those we love And kiss again with tears!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#58. I know that age to age succeeds, Blowing a noise of tongues and deeds, A dust of systems and of creeds.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#60. Oh that it were possible, After long grief and pain, To find the arms of my true love, Around me once again
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#64. A still small voice spake unto me, 'Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#65. Speak to Him, thou, for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet- Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#66. She is coming, my own, my sweet;
Were it ever so airy a tread,
My heart would hear her and beat,
Were it earth in an earthly bed;
My dust would hear her and beat,
Had I lain for a century dead;
Would start and tremble under her feet,
And blossom in purple and red.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#67. 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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#68. There she weaves by night and day, A magic web with colors gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay, To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#70. So now I have sworn to bury All this dead body of hate I feel so free and so clear By the loss of that dead weight
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#71. And Thought leapt out to wed with Thought Ere Thought could wed itself with Speech.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#72. My life has crept so long on a broken wing Through cells of madness, haunts of horror and fear, That I come to be grateful at last for a little thing.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#73. I waited for the train at Coventry; I hung with grooms and porters on the bridge, To watch the three tall spires; and there I shaped The city's ancient legend into this.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#74. Name and fame! to fly sublime Through the courts, the camps, the schools Is to be the ball of Time, Bandied in the hands of fools.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#76. Thoroughly to believe in one's own self, so one's self were thorough, were to do great things.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#77. What was once to me mere matter of the fancy now has grown the vast necessity of heart and life.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#78. Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new, That which they have done but earnest of the things which they shall do.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#79. Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#80. Her court was pure, her life serene; God gave her peace; her land reposed; A thousand claims to reverence closed ...
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#81. I wind about, and in and out, - With here a blossom sailing, - And here and there a lusty trout, - And here and there a grayling ...
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#82. And others' follies teach us not,
Nor much their wisdom teaches,
And most, of sterling worth, is what
Our own experience preaches.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#83. The old order changeth, yielding place to new, and god fulfills himself in many ways, lest one good custom should corrupt the world.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#85. Till last by Philip's farm I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#86. A classic lecture, rich in sentiment, With scraps of thundrous Epic lilted out By violet-hooded Doctors, elegies And quoted odes, and jewels five-words-long, That on the stretched forefinger of all Time Sparkle for ever.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#87. Whate'er thy joys, they vanish with the day: Whate'er thy griefs, in sleep they fade away, To sleep! to sleep! Sleep, mournful heart, and let the past be past: Sleep, happy soul, all life will sleep at last.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#88. That tower of strength Which stood four-square to all the winds that blew.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#89. Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#94. Whatever crazy sorrow saith, No life that breathes with human breath Has ever truly longed for death.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#95. Fill the cup, and fill the can: Have a rouse before the morn: Every moment dies a man, Every moment one is born.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#97. In the long years liker they must grow; The man be more of woman, she of man.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
#99. Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Famous Authors
Popular Topics
Scroll to Top