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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
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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
Little
Horror
Come
Gratitude
Thing
Grateful
Crept
Long
Broken
Haunts
Life
Lasts
Wing
Last
Cells
Fear
Madness
Littles
Wings
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
He that wrongs a friend Wrongs himself more, and ever bears about A silent court of justice in his breast, Himself the judge and jury, and himself The prisoner at the bar ever condemned.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And common is the commonplace, And vacant chaff well meant for grain.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
the shell must break before the bird can fly.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Speak to Him, thou, for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet- Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Only reapers, reaping early In among the bearded barley, Hear a song that echoes cheerly From the river winding clearly, Down to towered Camelot.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The dirty nurse, Experience, in her kind Hath fouled me.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Things seen are mightier than things heard.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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
The still affection of the heart Became an outward breathing type, That into stillness past again, And left a want unknown before Although the loss had brought us pain, That loss but made us love the more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Dowered with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The vow that binds too strictly snaps itself.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
So dear a life your arms enfold, Whose crying is a cry for gold.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
For now the poet cannot die, Nor leave his music as of old, But round him ere he scarce be cold Begins the scandal and the cry.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The golden guess is morning-star to the full round of truth.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope thro' darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Twilight and evening bell, and after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell when I embark.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The words 'far, far away' had always a strange charm.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
