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Shall love be blamed for want of faith?

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
Blamed
Shall
Faith
Love

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Rich in saving common-sense, And, as the greatest only are, In his simplicity sublime.
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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?
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Some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs.
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I will love thee to the death, And out beyond into the dream to come.
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Faith is believing what we cannot prove.
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...and our spirits rushed together at the touching of the lips.
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Blind and naked ignorance delivers brawling judgments, unashamed, on all things all day long
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Those who depend on the merits of their ancestors may be said to search in the roots of the tree for those fruits which the branches ought to produce.
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O Blackbird! sing me something well: While all the neighbors shoot thee round, I keep smooth plats of fruitful ground, Where thou may'st warble, eat and dwell.
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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.
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And every dew-drop paints a bow.
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Every moment dies a man, Every moment one is born.
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For now the poet cannot die, Nor leave his music as of old, But round him ere he scarce be cold Begins the scandal and the cry.
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Twilight and evening bell, and after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell when I embark.
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With a little hoard of maxims preaching down a daughter's heart.
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I loved you, and my love had no return, And therefore my true love has been my death.
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I sometimes find it half a sin, To put to words the grief i feel, For words like nature,half reveal, and half conceal the soul within.
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