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Be near me when my light is low... And all the wheels of being slow.
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
Lows
Inspirational
Death
Light
Creeps
Wheels
Near
Slow
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Like a dog, he hunts in dreams.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Every man, for the sake of the great blessed Mother in Heaven, and for the love of his own little mother on earth, should handle all womankind gently, and hold them in all Honor.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I am a part of all that I have met.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Love's too precious to be lost, A little grain shall not be spilt.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
He is all fault who has no fault at all.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The dream Dreamed by a happy man, when the dark East, Unseen, is brightening to his bridal morn.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
We are ancients of the earth, And in the morning of the times.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
For always roaming with a hungry heart.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces through the room
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Of love that never found his earthly close, What sequel? Streaming eyes and breaking hearts Or all the same as if he had not been?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
All night have the roses heard The flute, violin, bassoon All night has the casement jessamine stirr'd To the dancers dancing in tune Till a silence fell with the waking bird, And a hush with the setting moon.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill But O for the touch of a vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
O son, thou hast not true humility, The highest virtue, mother of them all But her thou hast not know for what is this? Thou thoughtest of thy prowess and thy sins Thou hast not lost thyself to save thyself.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
My doom is, I love thee still. Let no man dream but that I love thee still.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
