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The quiet sense of something lost

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
Quiet
Lost
Sense
Something

More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson

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The time draws near the birth of Christ The moon is hid the night is still The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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We are ancients of the earth, And in the morning of the times.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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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
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Ah, Christ, that it were possible, For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn, The moans of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of innumerable bees.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Four grey walls, and four grey towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope thro' darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Evolution ever climbing after some ideal good, And Reversion ever dragging Evolution in the mud.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Happy he With such a mother! faith in womankind Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high Comes easy to him and tho' he trip and fall, He shall not blind his soul with clay.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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My purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset and the baths of all the Western stars until I die.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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That man's the true Conservative who lops the moldered branch away.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Who is this? And what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer And they crossed themselves for fear, All the Knights at Camelot But Lancelot mused a little space He said, She has a lovely face God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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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
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She sleeps: her breathings are not heard In palace chambers far apart. The fragrant tresses are not stirr'd That lie upon her charmed heart She sleeps: on either hand upswells The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest: She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells A perfect form in perfect rest.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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I can't sleep without knowing there's hope. Half the night I waste in sighs. In a wakeful doze I sorrow. For the hands, for the lips... the eyes. For the meeting of tomorrow.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Dead sounds at night come from the inmost hills. Like footsteps upon wool.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Arise, go forth, and conquer as of old.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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He that wrongs his friend, wrongs himself more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson