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Forgive! How many will say, forgive, and find a sort of absolution in the sound to hate a little longer!
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
Sound
Hate
Littles
Absolution
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More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Blind and naked ignorance delivers brawling judgments, unashamed, on all things all day long
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Virtue!--to be good and just-- Every heart, when sifted well, Is a clot of warmer dust, Mix'd with cunning sparks of hell.
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Not once or twice in our rough island story, The path of duty was the way to glory.
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The night comes on that knows not morn, When I shall cease to be all alone, To live forgotten, and love forlorn.
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There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass.
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And out of darkness came the hands that reach through nature, moulding men.
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Be near me when my light is low... And all the wheels of being slow.
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The bearing and the training of a child Is woman's wisdom.
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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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A sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier times.
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Sweet were the days when I was all unknown, But when my name was lifted up, the storm Brake on the mountain and I cared not for it. Right well know I that fame is half disfame.
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Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls.
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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.
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But while I breathe Heaven's air and Heaven looks down on me, And smiles at my best meanings, I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul.
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Rain, rain, and sun! A rainbow in the sky!
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Shape your heart to front the hour, but dream not that the hours will last.
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He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.
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She hath no loyal knight and true, The Lady of Shalott.
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If I make dark my countenance, I shut my life from happier chance.
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Though thou wert scattered to the wind, Yet is there plenty of the kind.
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