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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
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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
Home
Banks
Long
Ran
Good
None
Never
Close
Warmly
Love
Friend
Sweetly
Like
Blood
Calming
Full
Prom
Ends
Wished
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
As the husband is, the wife is.
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From yon blue heaven above us bent, The grand old gardener and his wife Smile at the claims of long descent.
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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.
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This round of green, this orb of flame, Fantastic beauty such as lurks In some wild poet, when he works Without a conscience or an aim.
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She sleeps: her breathings are not heard In palace chambers far apart. The fragrant tresses are not stirr'd That lie upon her charmed heart She sleeps: on either hand upswells The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest: She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells A perfect form in perfect rest.
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Tis held that sorrow makes us wise.
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Happy days roll onward leading up to golden years.
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But while I breathe Heaven's air and Heaven looks down on me, And smiles at my best meanings, I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul.
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Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go Ring out the false, ring in the true.
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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
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Our little systems have their day They have their day and cease to be… And thou, O Lord, art more than they.
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Rain, rain, and sun! A rainbow in the sky!
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For always roaming with a hungry heart.
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Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.
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There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds.
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On all things created remaineth the half-effaced signature of God, Somewhat of fair and good, though blotted by the finger of corruption.
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And every dew-drop paints a bow.
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The old order changeth, yielding place to new, and god fulfills himself in many ways, lest one good custom should corrupt the world.
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The dirty nurse, Experience, in her kind Hath fouled me.
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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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