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Woman is the lesser man, and all thy passions, match'd with mine, Are as moonlight unto sunlight, and as water unto wine.
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
Men
Match
Passions
Wine
Mines
Mine
Lesser
Passion
Moonlight
Water
Sunlight
Woman
Unto
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
All is well, tho' faith and form Be sunder'd in the night of fear.
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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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Thou madest man, he knows not why, he thinks he was not made to die.
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Evolution ever climbing after some ideal good, And Reversion ever dragging Evolution in the mud.
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The dirty nurse, Experience, in her kind Hath fouled me.
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Ah, Christ, that it were possible, For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.
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Though much is taken, much abides and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
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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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And blessings on the falling out That all the more endears, When we fall out with those we love And kiss again with tears!
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Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.
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She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces through the room
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The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
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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.
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This world was once a fluid haze of light, Till toward the centre set the starry tides, And eddied into suns, that wheeling cast The planets: then the monster, then the man.
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And this gray spirit yearning in desire To follow knowledge like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
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O last regret, regret can die!
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The song that nerves a nation's heart is in itself a deed.
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Trust me not at all, or all in all.
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God and Nature met in light.
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Better not to be at all Than not to be noble.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
