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Ah, when shall all men's good Be each man's rule, and universal peace Lie like a shaft of light across the land, And like a lane of beams athwart the sea, Thro' all the circle of the golden year?

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
Like
Humanity
Circles
Athwart
Year
Golden
Thro
Lying
Rule
Shaft
Peace
Across
Beams
Light
Sea
Lane
Years
Universal
Lanes
Good
Shall
Beam
Men
Land
Circle

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We are all a part of every person we have ever met.
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I can't be anonymous by reason of your confounded photographs. (To Julia Margaret Cameron)
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Four grey walls, and four grey towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott.
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But every page having an ample marge, And every marge enclosing in the midst A square of text that looks a little blot.
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I stood on a tower in the wet, And New Year and Old Year met, And winds were roaring and blowing: And I said, O years, that meet in tears, Have ye aught that is worth the knowing? Science enough and exploring, Wanderers coming and going, Matter enough for deploring, But aught that is worth the knowing?
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So dear a life your arms enfold, Whose crying is a cry for gold.
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Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control these three alone lead one to sovereign power.
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Like glimpses of forgotten dreams.
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I found Him in the shining of the stars.
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The sin That neither God nor man can well forgive.
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Though thou wert scattered to the wind, Yet is there plenty of the kind.
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In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
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The parting of a husband and wife is like the cleaving of a heart one half will flutter here, one there.
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Blind and naked ignorance delivers brawling judgments, unashamed, on all things all day long
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The year is dying in the night.
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Wearing the white flower of a blameless life, Before a thousand peering littlenesses, In that fierce light which beats upon a throne, And blackens every blot.
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Forgive my grief for one removed Thy creature whom I found so fair I trust he lives in Thee and there I find him worthier to be loved.
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Men may come and men may go but I go on forever.
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I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul
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My purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset and the baths of all the Western stars until I die.
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