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My doom is, I love thee still. Let no man dream but that I love thee still.
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
Love
Life
Doom
Thee
Dream
Stills
Still
Men
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
The year is dying in the night.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Oh good gray head which all men knew!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
...and our spirits rushed together at the touching of the lips.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Woman is the lesser man.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Shall eagles not be eagles? wrens be wrens? If all the world were falcons, what of that? The wonder of the eagle were the less, But he not less the eagle.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And the days darken round me, and the years, Among new men, strange faces, other minds.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Flower in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower-but if I could understand What you are, root and all, all in all, I should know what God and man is.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Hope Smiles from the threshold of the year to come, Whispering 'it will be happier'.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I cannot rest from travel I will drink Life to the lees.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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?
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
We are ancients of the earth, And in the morning of the times.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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
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 not to be at all Than not to be noble.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
That man's the true Conservative who lops the moldered branch away.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Read my little fable: He that runs may read. Most can raise the flowers now, For all have got the seed.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Every man at time of Death, Would fain set forth some saying that may live After his death and better humankind For death gives life's last word a power to live, And, lie the stone-cut epitaph, remain After the vanished voice, and speak to men.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The night comes on that knows not morn, When I shall cease to be all alone, To live forgotten, and love forlorn.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
