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And this gray spirit yearning in desire To follow knowledge like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
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
Desire
Bound
Spirit
Bounds
Thought
Star
Human
Follow
Ulysses
Humans
Poetry
Utmost
Like
Beyond
Sinking
Stars
Yearning
Knowledge
Gray
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
It is hard to wive and thrive both in a year.
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Name and fame! to fly sublime Through the courts, the camps, the schools Is to be the ball of Time, Bandied in the hands of fools.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Man's word is God in man.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Come, Time, and teach me many years, I do not suffer in dream For now so strange do these things seem, Mine eyes have leisure for their tears.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
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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
Science grows and Beauty dwindles.
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We needs must love the highest when we see it.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
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Love will conquer at the last.
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Live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind. For they lie beside their nectar, and the bolts are hurled Far below them in the valleys, and the clouds are lightly curled Round their golden houses, girdled with the gleaming world.
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A still small voice spake unto me, 'Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?
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Half the night I waste in sighs, Half in dreams I sorrow after The delight of early skies In a wakeful dose I sorrow For the hand, the lips, the eyes, For the meeting of the morrow, The delight of happy laughter, The delight of low replies.
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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 world which credits what is done is cold to all that might have been.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
O last regret, regret can die!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
So dear a life your arms enfold, Whose crying is a cry for gold.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The greater person is one of courtesy.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I know transplanted human worth will bloom to profit otherwhere.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
A louse in the locks of literature.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
