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Oh yet we trust that somehow good will be the final goal of ill!
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
Somehow
Trust
Goal
Good
Ill
Final
Finals
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Words, like nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Rich in saving common-sense, And, as the greatest only are, In his simplicity sublime.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
On all things created remaineth the half-effaced signature of God, Somewhat of fair and good, though blotted by the finger of corruption.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
In time there is no present, In eternity no future, In eternity no past.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The thrall in person may be free in soul
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Every man, for the sake of the great blessed Mother in Heaven, and for the love of his own little mother on earth, should handle all womankind gently, and hold them in all Honor.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar When I put out to sea.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sweet is true love that is given in vain, and sweet is death that takes away pain.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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
A louse in the locks of literature.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Shall eagles not be eagles? wrens be wrens? If all the world were falcons, what of that? The wonder of the eagle were the less, But he not less the eagle.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
A life of nothing's nothing worth, From that first nothing ere his birth, To that last nothing under earth.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
What is it all but a trouble of ants in the gleam of a million million of suns?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
How fares it with the happy dead?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And oft I heard the tender dove In firry woodlands making moan.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Happy days roll onward leading up to golden years.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
So dear a life your arms enfold, Whose crying is a cry for gold.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
