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Never, oh! never, nothing will die The stream flows, The wind blows, The cloud fleets, The heart beats, Nothing will die.
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
Never
Beats
Fleets
Flow
Blows
Dying
Flows
Wind
Cloud
Dies
Stream
Death
Streams
Nothing
Clouds
Heart
Blow
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In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
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For this alone on Death I wreak The wrath that garners in my heart: He put our lives so far apart We cannot hear each other speak.
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The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.
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Better not be at all than not be noble.
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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.
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Nature, red in tooth and claw.
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It's better to have tried and failed than to live life wondering what would've happened if I had tried
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I wind about, and in and out, - With here a blossom sailing, - And here and there a lusty trout, - And here and there a grayling.
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Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls.
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The passionate heart of the poet is whirled into folly and vice.
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Willows whiten, aspens quiver, little breezes dusk and shiver, thro' the wave that runs forever by the island in the river, flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls and four gray towers, overlook a space of flowers, and the silent isle imbowers, the Lady of Shalott.
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The golden guess is morning-star to the full round of truth.
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Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.
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The night comes on that knows not morn, When I shall cease to be all alone, To live forgotten, and love forlorn.
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His honour rooted in dishonour stood, And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true.
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And every dew-drop paints a bow.
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Through the ages one increasing purpose runs.
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And so the Word had breath, and wrought With human hands the creed of creeds In loveliness of perfect deeds, More strong than all poetic thoughts Which he may read that binds the sheaf, Or builds the house, or digs the grave, And those wild eyes that watch the waves In roarings round the coral reef.
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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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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.
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