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The folly of all follies is to be love sick for a shadow.
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
Folly
Shadow
Sick
Fool
Love
Follies
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Of happy men that have the power to die, And grassy barrows of the happier dead.
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
Can calm despair and wild unrest Be tenants of a single breast, Or sorrow such a changeling be?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I thought I could not breathe in that fine air That pure severity of perfect light I yearned for warmth and colour which I found In Lancelot.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
What's up is faith, what's down is heresy.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
For I dipped into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Shape your heart to front the hour, but dream not that the hours will last.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Words, like nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
How fares it with the happy dead?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Blind and naked ignorance delivers brawling judgments, unashamed, on all things all day long
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Better not to be at all Than not to be noble.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Nor is he the wisest man who never proved himself a fool.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces through the room
Alfred Lord Tennyson
All is well, tho' faith and form Be sunder'd in the night of fear.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And every dew-drop paints a bow.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
From yon blue heaven above us bent, The grand old gardener and his wife Smile at the claims of long descent.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
There rolls the deep where grew the tree. O earth, what changes hast thou seen! There where the long street roars, hath been The stillness of the central sea. The hills are shadows, and they flow From form to form, and nothing stands They melt like mist, the solid lands, Like clouds they shape themselves and go.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
O hark,O hear! how thin and clear And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And on her lover's arm she leant, And round her waist she felt it fold, And far across the hills they went In that new world which is the old.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
