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Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depths of some devine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of 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
Happy
Rise
Eye
Depth
Despair
Mean
Fields
Heart
Tears
Gather
Thinking
Days
Depths
Eyes
Idle
Looking
Autumn
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I am half-sick of shadows,' said The Lady of Shalott.
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Faith and unfaith can ne'er be equal powers Unfaith is aught is want of faith in all.
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There's no glory like those who save their country.
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My doom is, I love thee still. Let no man dream but that I love thee still.
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Things seen are mightier than things heard.
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The vow that binds too strictly snaps itself.
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Sin is too stupid to see beyond itself.
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God made thee good as thou art beautiful.
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Can calm despair and wild unrest Be tenants of a single breast, Or sorrow such a changeling be?
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I came in haste with cursing breath, And heart of hardest steel But when I saw thee cold in death, I felt as man should feel. For when I look upon that face, That cold, unheeding, frigid brown, Where neither rage nor fear has place, By Heaven! I cannot hate thee now!
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This barren verbiage, current among men, Light coin, the tinsel clink of compliment.
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Earth is dry to the centre, But spring, a new comer, A spring rich and strange, Shall make the winds blow Round and round, Thro' and thro', Here and there, Till the air And the ground Shall be fill'd with life anew.
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A beam in darkness: let it grow.
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Mastering the lawless science of our law,- that codeless myriad of precedent, that wilderness of single instances.
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And out of darkness came the hands that reach through nature, moulding men.
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Read my little fable: He that runs may read. Most can raise the flowers now, For all have got the seed.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Blind and naked ignorance delivers brawling judgments, unashamed, on all things all day long
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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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Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and I linger on the shore, And the individual withers, and the world is more and more.
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It may be that no life is found, Which only to one engine bound Falls off, but cycles always round.
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