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More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.
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
Dreams
Prayer
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Dream
Things
World
Wrought
Praying
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Like glimpses of forgotten dreams.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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
Follow the deer? Follow the Christ the King. Live pure, speak true,right wrong, Follow the King-- Else, wherefore born?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Faith and unfaith can ne'er be equal powers Unfaith is aught is want of faith in all.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Life is brief but love is LONG .
Alfred Lord Tennyson
To me He is all fault who hath no fault at all: For who loves me must have a touch of earth.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Forgive my grief for one removed Thy creature whom I found so fair I trust he lives in Thee and there I find him worthier to be loved.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
By blood a king, in heart a clown.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
O love, O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul through My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
A smile abroad is often a scowl at home.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, night, has flown Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone: And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, And the musk of the rose is blown. For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of Love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves On a bed of daffodil sky.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
O mighty-mouthed inventor of harmonies, O skilled to sing of Time or Eternity, God-gifted organ-voice of England, Milton, a name to resound for ages.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Of old sat Freedom on the heights The thunders breaking at her feet: Above her shook the starry lights She heard the torrents meet.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Love's too precious to be lost, A little grain shall not be spilt.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And down I went to fetch my bride: But, Alice, you were ill at ease This dress and that by turns you tried, Too fearful that you should not please. I loved you better for your fears, I knew you could not look but well And dews, that would have fall'n in tears, I kiss'd away before they fell.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Battering the gates of heaven with the storms of prayer.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
But for the unquiet heart and brain A use in measured language lies The sad mechanic exercise Like dull narcotics numbing pain.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Oh yet we trust that somehow good will be the final goal of ill!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
