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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.
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
Young
Lightly
Men
Fancy
Love
Changes
Spring
Burnish
Flower
Livelier
Thoughts
Iris
Turns
Irises
Change
Dove
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Nothing in Nature is unbeautiful.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The woods decay, the woods decay and fall, The vapours weep their burthen to the ground, Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath, And after many summer dies the swan. Me only cruel immortality Consumes: I wither slowly in thine arms, Here at the quiet limit of the world.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
O Love! they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow! set the wild echoes flying! And answer, echoes, answer! dying, dying, dying.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, night, has flown Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone: And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, And the musk of the rose is blown. For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of Love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves On a bed of daffodil sky.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Tis held that sorrow makes us wise.
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
I cannot rest from travel I will drink Life to the lees.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Like a dog, he hunts in dreams.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Lo! sweeten'd with the summer light, The full-juiced apple, waxing over-mellow, Drops in a silent autumn night. All its allotted length of days The flower ripens in its place, Ripens and fades, and falls, and hath no toil, Fast-rooted in the fruitful soil.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Jewels five-words-long, That on the stretch'd forefinger of all Time Sparkle forever.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The golden guess is morning-star to the full round of truth.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ah! well away! Seasons flower and fade.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
That which we are, we are, and if we are ever to be any better, now is the time to begin.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The vow that binds too strictly snaps itself.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of: Wherefore, let they voice, Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Manners are not idle, but the fruit of loyal and of noble mind.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sweet were the days when I was all unknown, But when my name was lifted up, the storm Brake on the mountain and I cared not for it. Right well know I that fame is half disfame.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
What is it all but a trouble of ants in the gleam of a million million of suns?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
