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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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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
Birth
Bells
Answers
Hills
Christ
Near
Night
Christmas
Stills
Healing
Still
Draws
Time
Moon
Mist
Answer
Hill
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Nature, red in tooth and claw.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Lady, for indeed I loved you and I deemed you beautiful, I cannot brook to see your beauty marred Through evil spite: and if ye love me not, I cannot bear to dream you so forsworn: I had liefer ye were worthy of my love, Than to be loved again of you - farewell And though ye kill my hope, not yet my love, Vex not yourself: ye will not see me more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Launch your vessel, And crowd your canvas, And, ere it vanishes Over the margin, After it, follow it, FollowThe Gleam.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The year is dying in the night.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Yonder cloud That rises upward always higher, And onward drags a laboring breast, And topples round the dreary west, A looming bastion fringed with fire.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ring out the grief that saps the mind, for those that were here we see no more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
He clasps the crag with crooked hands Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ringed with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Better not to be at all Than not to be noble.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The passionate heart of the poet is whirled into folly and vice.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
That man's the true Conservative who lops the moldered branch away.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Shall it not be scorn to me to harp on such a moulder'd string? I am shamed through all my nature to have lov'd so slight a thing.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Nor is he the wisest man who never proved himself a fool.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
God made thee good as thou art beautiful.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The voice of the dead was a living voice to me.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Shall love be blamed for want of faith?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Better not be at all than not be noble.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The quiet sense of something lost
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Man is the hunter women are the game those sleek and shining creatures of the chase. We hunt them for the beauty of their skins they love us for it, and we ride them down.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Who loves not Knowledge? Who shall rail Against her beauty? May she mix With men and prosper! Who shall fix Her pillars? Let her work prevail.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
