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But while I breathe Heaven's air and Heaven looks down on me, And smiles at my best meanings, I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul.
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
Looks
Mine
Independent
Air
Meanings
Single
Smiles
Heaven
Mistress
Best
Breathe
Soul
Remain
Self
Mines
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.
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For this alone on Death I wreak The wrath that garners in my heart: He put our lives so far apart We cannot hear each other speak.
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Authority forgets a dying king.
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What rights are those that dare not resist for them?
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The dream Dreamed by a happy man, when the dark East, Unseen, is brightening to his bridal morn.
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And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill But O for the touch of a vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still!
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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.
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Cast all your cares on God that anchor holds.
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On all things created remaineth the half-effaced signature of God, Somewhat of fair and good, though blotted by the finger of corruption.
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The words 'far, far away' had always a strange charm.
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And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the summer sea, But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the fifty-three.
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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.
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Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
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Old men must die, or the world would grow mouldy, would only breed the past again.
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And men, whose reason long was blind, From cells of madness unconfined, Oft lose whole years of darker mind.
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Her court was pure, her life serene God gave her peace her land reposed A thousand claims to reverence closed.
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What the sunshine is to the flower, the Lord Jesus Christ is to my soul.
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But thy strong Hours indignant work’d their wills, And beat me down and marr’d and wasted me, And tho’ they could not end me, left me maim’d To dwell in presence of immortal youth, Immortal age beside immortal youth, And all I was, in ashes. - Tithonus
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Every moment dies a man, Every moment one is born.
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A still small voice spake unto me, 'Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?
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