Alfred, Lord Tennyson quotes - page 7

Alfred, Lord Tennyson was an English poet who served as Poet Laureate of Great Britain and Ireland during much of Queen Victoria’s reign. Renowned for his eloquent and musical verse, he became one of the most popular poets of the 19th century. He is remembered for works such as "In Memoriam," "The Charge of the Light Brigade," and "Ulysses." Here are 376 of his quotes:

For nothing worthy proving can be proven, Nor yet disproven: wherefore thou be wise, Cleave ever to the sunnier side of doubt, And cling to Faith beyond the forms of Faith!

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Who can fancy warless men? Warless? War will die out late then. Will it ever? late or soon? Can it, till this outworn earth be dead as yon dead world the moon?

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

For though from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crossed the bar.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

All in the blue unclouded weather Thick-jewelled shone the saddle-leather, The helmet and the helmet-feather Burned like one burning flame together, As he rode down to Camelot.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Authors-essayist, atheist, novelist, realist, rhymester, play your part, Paint the mortal shame of nature with the living hues of art.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Staled by frequence, shrunk by usage into commonest commonplace!

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida, Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. For now the noonday quiet holds the hill: The grasshopper is silent in the grass: The lizard, with his shadow on the stone, Rests like a shadow, and the winds are dead. The purple flower droops: the golden bee Is lily-cradled: I alone awake. My eyes are full of tears, my heart of love, My heart is breaking, and my eyes are dim, And I am all aweary of my life.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

The world was never made; It will change, but it will not fade. So let the wind range; For even and morn Ever will be Thro' eternity. Nothing was born; Nothing will die; All things will change.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

A mastiff dog May love a puppy cur for no more reason Than that the twain have been tied up together.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Lying, robed in snowy white That loosely flew to left and right - The leaves upon her falling light - Thro' the noises of the night, She floated down to Camelot: And as the boat-head wound along The willowy hills and fields among, They heard her singing her last song, The Lady of Shalott. Heard a carol, mournful, holy, Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, Till her blood was frozen slowly, And her eyes were darkened wholly, Turn'd to tower'd Camelot. For ere she reach'd upon the tide The first house by the water-side, Singing in her song she died, The Lady of Shalott.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

A sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier times.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

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

He often lying broad awake, and yet Remaining from the body, and apart In intellect and power and will, hath heard Time flowing in the middle of the night, And all things creeping to a day of doom.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

I built my soul a lordly pleasure-house, Wherein at ease for aye to dwell. I said, "O Soul, make merry and carouse, Dear soul, for all is well."

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

My good blade carves the casques of men, My tough lance thrusteth sure, My strength is as the strength of ten, Because my heart is pure.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Then some one spake: "Behold! it was a crime Of sense avenged by sense that wore with time." Another said: "The crime of sense became The crime of malice, and is equal blame." And one: "He had not wholly quench'd his power; A little grain of conscience made him sour." At last I heard a voice upon the slope Cry to the summit, "Is there any hope?" To which an answer peal'd from that high land, But in a tongue no man could understand; And on the glimmering limit far withdrawn God made Himself an awful rose of dawn.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Break, break, break At the foot of thy crags, O Sea! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

"I'll never love any but you," the morning song of the lark; "I'll never love any but you," the nightingale's hymn in the dark.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

The night with sudden odour reeled; The southern stars a music pealed.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Death's truer name Is "Onward," no discordance in the roll And march of that Eternal Harmony Whereto the world beats time.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

...none can truly write his single day, And none can write it for him upon earth.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

So many minds did gird their orbs with beams, Tho' one did fling the fire; Heaven flow'd upon the soul in many dreams Of high desire.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson