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Love is hurt with jar and fret Love is made a vague regret.
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
Vague
Regret
Hurt
Made
Love
Life
Fret
Jars
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Love is the only gold.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And common is the commonplace, And vacant chaff well meant for grain.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ours is not to wonder why. Ours is just to do or die.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
This truth within thy mind rehearse, That in a boundless universe Is boundless better, boundless worse.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
A life of nothing's nothing worth, From that first nothing ere his birth, To that last nothing under earth.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Where love could walk with banish'd Hope no more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
But for the unquiet heart and brain A use in measured language lies The sad mechanic exercise Like dull narcotics numbing pain.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Shall love be blamed for want of faith?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
With a little hoard of maxims preaching down a daughter's heart.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Words, like nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I am half-sick of shadows,' said The Lady of Shalott.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
But every page having an ample marge, And every marge enclosing in the midst A square of text that looks a little blot.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, oh sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
All precious things, discover'd late, To those that seek them issue forth, For love in sequel works with fate, And draws the veil from hidden worth.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
A louse in the locks of literature.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Love lieth deep Love dwells not in lip-depths Love laps his wings on either side the heart Absorbing all the incense of sweet thoughts, So that they pass not to the shrine of sound.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Dear as remembered kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd On lips that are for others deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret O Death in Life, the days that are no more!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
