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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
Love
Motivational
Gives
Ripeness
Alone
Lends
Inspirational
Falls
Left
Curse
Giving
Grown
Something
Suicide
Time
Healthy
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
That tower of strength Which stood four-square to all the winds that blew.
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I waited for the train at Coventry I hung with grooms and porters on the bridge, To watch the three tall spires and there I shaped The city's ancient legend into this.
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By blood a king, in heart a clown.
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Where love could walk with banish'd Hope no more.
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Every moment dies a man, Every moment one is born.
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More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.
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Better not be at all than not be noble.
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All Life needs for life is possible to will.
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As love, if love be perfect, casts out fear, so hate, if hate be perfect, casts out fear.
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The words 'far, far away' had always a strange charm.
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Yonder cloud That rises upward always higher, And onward drags a laboring breast, And topples round the dreary west, A looming bastion fringed with fire.
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Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever.
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Four grey walls, and four grey towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott.
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For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid.
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I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul
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She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces through the room, She saw the water-lily bloom, She saw the helmet and the plume, She look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide The mirror crack'd from side to side The curse is come upon me, cried The Lady of Shalott.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Any man that walks the mead In bud, or blade, or bloom, may find, According as his humors lead, A meaning suited to his mind.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The voice of the dead was a living voice to me.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Her court was pure, her life serene God gave her peace her land reposed A thousand claims to reverence closed.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Authority forgets a dying king.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
