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Oh that it were possible, After long grief and pain, To find the arms of my true love, Around me once again
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
Love
Grief
Arms
Possible
Pain
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More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Such a one do I remember, whom to look at was love.
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Of happy men that have the power to die, And grassy barrows of the happier dead.
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Cricket, however, has more in it than mere efficiency. There is something called the spirit of cricket, which cannot be defined.
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And men, whose reason long was blind, From cells of madness unconfined, Oft lose whole years of darker mind.
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Whate'er thy joys, they vanish with the day: Whate'er thy griefs, in sleep they fade away, To sleep! to sleep! Sleep, mournful heart, and let the past be past: Sleep, happy soul, all life will sleep at last.
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There twice a day the Severn fills The salt sea-water passes by, And hushes half the babbling Wye, And makes a silence in the hills.
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Tis held that sorrow makes us wise.
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Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new, That which they have done but earnest of the things which they shall do.
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Either sex alone is half itself.
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Because right is right, to follow right Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.
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The noonday quiet holds the hill.
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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.
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More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.
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Sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn, The moans of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of innumerable bees.
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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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The white flower of a blameless life.
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Things seen are mightier than things heard.
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I wind about, and in and out, - With here a blossom sailing, - And here and there a lusty trout, - And here and there a grayling.
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The bearing and the training of a child Is woman's wisdom.
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Old age hath yet his honour and his toil.
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