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Earth is dry to the centre, But spring, a new comer, A spring rich and strange, Shall make the winds blow Round and round, Thro' and thro', Here and there, Till the air And the ground Shall be fill'd with life anew.

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
Life
Air
Dry
Spring
Centre
Wind
Fill
Strange
Round
Shall
Rounds
Comer
Rich
Till
Thro
Earth
Blow
Anew
Make
Ground
Winds

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The smell of violets, hidden in the green, Pour'd back into my empty soul and frame The times when I remembered to have been Joyful and free from blame.
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Nor at all can tell Whether I mean this day to end myself, Or lend an ear to Plato where he says, That men like soldiers may not quit the post Allotted by the Gods.
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Faith lives in honest doubt.
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It's better to have tried and failed than to live life wondering what would've happened if I had tried
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The long mechanic pacings to and fro, The set, gray life, and apathetic end.
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My doom is, I love thee still. Let no man dream but that I love thee still.
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Love will conquer at the last.
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The noonday quiet holds the hill.
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Flower in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower-but if I could understand What you are, root and all, all in all, I should know what God and man is.
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Who trusted God was love indeed And love Creation's final law Though Nature, red in tooth and claw With ravine, shrieked against his creed.
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She has a lovely face God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott.
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Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and I linger on the shore, And the individual withers, and the world is more and more.
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Is there evil but on earth? Or pain in every peopled sphere? Well, be grateful for the sounding watchword Evolution here.
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Never, oh! never, nothing will die The stream flows, The wind blows, The cloud fleets, The heart beats, Nothing will die.
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Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control these three alone lead one to sovereign power.
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Who loves not Knowledge? Who shall rail Against her beauty? May she mix With men and prosper! Who shall fix Her pillars? Let her work prevail.
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I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul
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To me He is all fault who hath no fault at all: For who loves me must have a touch of earth.
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He makes no friend who never made a foe.
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All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful past.
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