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The year is dying in the night.
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
Dying
Year
Night
Years
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
I am going a long way With these thou seëst-if indeed I go (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt)- To the island-valley of Avilion, Where falls not hail or rain or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
That loss is common would not make My own less bitter, rather more: Too common! Never morning wore To evening, but some heart did break.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
As the husband is the wife is thou art mated with a clown, As the grossness of his nature will have weight to drag thee down.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Such a one do I remember, whom to look at was love.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ah, why Should life all labour be?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Virtue must shape itself in deed.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
There twice a day the Severn fills The salt sea-water passes by, And hushes half the babbling Wye, And makes a silence in the hills.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Full knee-deep lies the winter snow, And the winter winds are wearily sighing: Toll ye the church bell sad and slow, And tread softly and speak low, For the old year lies a-dying. Old year you must not die You came to us so readily, You lived with us so steadily, Old year you shall not die.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Shall it not be scorn to me to harp on such a moulder'd string? I am shamed through all my nature to have lov'd so slight a thing.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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
The dirty nurse, Experience, in her kind Hath fouled me.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Better not be at all than not be noble.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The sin That neither God nor man can well forgive.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Better not to be at all Than not to be noble.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Hope Smiles from the threshold of the year to come, Whispering 'it will be happier'.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The golden guess is morning-star to the full round of truth.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Cricket, however, has more in it than mere efficiency. There is something called the spirit of cricket, which cannot be defined.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
