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Ring out old shapes of foul disease, Ring out the narrowing lust of gold Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace.
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
Years
Rings
Shapes
Gold
Disease
Narrowing
Thousand
Foul
Humanity
Ring
Peace
Lust
War
Wars
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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.
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It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles whom we knew.
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Beauty and anguish walking hand in hand the downward slope to death.
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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.
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In time there is no present, In eternity no future, In eternity no past.
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She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces through the room
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Faith and unfaith can ne'er be equal powers Unfaith is aught is want of faith in all.
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The city is built To music, therefore never built at all, And therefore built forever.
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The old order changes yielding place to new.
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So dear a life your arms enfold, Whose crying is a cry for gold.
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I must lose myself in action, lest I wither in despair.
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All the windy ways of men Are but dust that rises up, And is lightly laid again.
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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?
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I can't sleep without knowing there's hope. Half the night I waste in sighs. In a wakeful doze I sorrow. For the hands, for the lips... the eyes. For the meeting of tomorrow.
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Dead sounds at night come from the inmost hills. Like footsteps upon wool.
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There's no glory like those who save their country.
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Cast all your cares on God that anchor holds.
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Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?
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Blind and naked ignorance delivers brawling judgments, unashamed, on all things all day long
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