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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
Looking
Autumn
Happy
Rise
Eye
Depth
Mean
Despair
Heart
Fields
Thinking
Tears
Gather
Days
Depths
Eyes
Idle
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Courtesy wins woman all as well. As valor may, but he that closes both is perfect.
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It is unconceivable that the whole Universe was merely created for us who live in this third-rate planet of a third-rate moon.
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An English homegrey twilight poured On dewy pasture, dewy trees, Softer than sleepall things in order stored, A haunt of ancient Peace.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ah! well away! Seasons flower and fade.
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And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the summer sea, But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the fifty-three.
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Wearing all that weight Of learning lightly like a flower.
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...and our spirits rushed together at the touching of the lips.
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A man had given all other bliss, And all his worldly worth for this To waste his whole heart in one kiss Upon her perfect lips.
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Thoroughly to believe in one's own self, so one's self were thorough, were to do great things.
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The dirty nurse, Experience, in her kind Hath fouled me.
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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?
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Too much wit makes the world rotten.
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We cannot be kind to each other here for even an hour. We whisper, and hint, and chuckle and grin at our brother's shame however you take it we men are a little breed.
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Launch your vessel, And crowd your canvas, And, ere it vanishes Over the margin, After it, follow it, FollowThe Gleam.
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The folly of all follies is to be love sick for a shadow.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And ah for a man to arise in me, That the man I am may cease to be!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Dowered with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love.
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No man ever got very high by pulling other people down. The intelligent merchant does not knock his competitors. The sensible worker does not work those who work with him. Don't knock your friends. Don't knock your enemies. Don't knock yourself.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I know transplanted human worth will bloom to profit otherwhere.
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And Thought leapt out to wed with Thought Ere Thought could wed itself with Speech.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
