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God gives us love! Something to love He lends us but when love is grown To ripeness, that on which it throve Falls off, and love is left alone: This is the curse of time.
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
Inspirational
Falls
Left
Curse
Giving
Grown
Something
Suicide
Time
Healthy
Love
Motivational
Gives
Ripeness
Alone
Lends
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Not wholly in the busy world, nor quite Beyond it, blooms the garden that I love. News from the humming city comes to it It sound of funeral or of marriage bells.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Through the ages one increasing purpose runs.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sweet is every sound, sweeter the voice, but every sound is sweet.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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
Attain the unattainable.
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
My life has crept so long on a broken wing Through cells of madness, haunts of horror and fear, That I come to be grateful at last for a little thing.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Battering the gates of heaven with the storms of prayer.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
My mind is clouded with a doubt.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
What is it all but a trouble of ants in the gleam of a million million of suns?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I will love thee to the death, And out beyond into the dream to come.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
In the long years liker they must grow The man be more of woman, she of man.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn, The moans of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of innumerable bees.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Can calm despair and wild unrest Be tenants of a single breast, Or sorrow such a changeling be?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The time draws near the birth of Christ The moon is hid the night is still The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The city is built To music, therefore never built at all, And therefore built forever.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Our little systems have their day They have their day and cease to be… And thou, O Lord, art more than they.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And o'er the hills, and far away Beyond their utmost purple rim, Beyond the night, across the day, Thro' all the world she follow'd him.
Alfred Lord Tennyson