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So sad, so fresh the days that are no more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Alfred Lord Tennyson
Age: 83 †
Born: 1809
Born: August 6
Died: 1892
Died: October 6
Poet
Politician
Writer
Somersby
Lincolnshire
Alfred Tennyson
1st Baron Tennyson
Lord Alfred Tennyson
Alcibiades
A. Tennyson
Alfred Tennyson
Baron Tennyson
Alfred Tennyson Tennyson
Tennyson
1st Baron Tennyson of Aldworth and Freshwater Alfred Tennyson
Alfred Tennyson d'Eyncourt
Lord Tennyson Alfred
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred
Lord Tennyson
Fresh
Days
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
A smile abroad is often a scowl at home.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And sometimes through the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The same words conceal and declare the thoughts of men.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Her eyes are homes of silent prayers.
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the shell must break before the bird can fly.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I will love thee to the death, And out beyond into the dream to come.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And men, whose reason long was blind, From cells of madness unconfined, Oft lose whole years of darker mind.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Science grows and Beauty dwindles.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sweet were the days when I was all unknown, But when my name was lifted up, the storm Brake on the mountain and I cared not for it. Right well know I that fame is half disfame.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The world which credits what is done is cold to all that might have been.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Theirs is not to make reply: Theirs is not to reason why: Theirs is but to do and die.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The sin That neither God nor man can well forgive.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I know transplanted human worth will bloom to profit otherwhere.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul Of that waste place with joy Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear The warble was low, and full and clear.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I cannot rest from travel I will drink Life to the lees.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
A daughter of the gods, divinely tall, And most divinely fair.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Tis not your work, but Love's. Love, unperceived, A more ideal Artist he than all, Came, drew your pencil from you, made those eyes Darker than the darkest pansies, and that hair More black than ashbuds in the front of March.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Red of the Dawn Is it turning a fainter red? so be it, but when shall we lay The ghost of the Brute that is walking and hammering us yet and be free?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Launch your vessel, And crowd your canvas, And, ere it vanishes Over the margin, After it, follow it, FollowThe Gleam.
Alfred Lord Tennyson