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Life is not as idle ore, But iron dug from central gloom, And heated hot with burning fears, And dipt in baths of hissing tears, And batter'd with the shocks of doom, To shape and use.
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
Life
Iron
Heated
Fears
Shocks
Hot
Baths
Burning
Gloom
Shape
Doom
Shapes
Idle
Tears
Central
Hissing
Use
Shock
Batter
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
A daughter of the gods, divinely tall, And most divinely fair.
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A lie that is half-truth is the darkest of all lies.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
My purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset and the baths of all the Western stars until I die.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Short swallow-flights of song, that dip Their wings in tears, and skim away.
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Man's word is God in man.
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Dead sounds at night come from the inmost hills. Like footsteps upon wool.
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This barren verbiage, current among men, Light coin, the tinsel clink of compliment.
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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.
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We are all a part of every person we have ever met.
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Full knee-deep lies the winter snow, And the winter winds are wearily sighing: Toll ye the church bell sad and slow, And tread softly and speak low, For the old year lies a-dying. Old year you must not die You came to us so readily, You lived with us so steadily, Old year you shall not die.
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The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
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I heard no longer The snowy-banded, dilettante, Delicate-handed priest intone.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The passionate heart of the poet is whirled into folly and vice.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
My mind is clouded with a doubt.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
You may tell me that my hand and foot are only imaginary symbols of my existence. I could believe you, but you never, never can convince me that the I is not an eternal reality, and that the spiritual is not the true and real part of me.
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
So now I have sworn to bury All this dead body of hate I feel so free and so clear By the loss of that dead weight
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Men may come and men may go but I go on forever.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
