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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
Possible
Pain
True
Around
Find
Long
Love
Grief
Arms
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I cannot rest from travel: I will drink Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those That loved me, and alone.
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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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A lie that is half-truth is the darkest of all lies.
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The woman's cause is man's: they rise or sink Together.
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A daughter of the gods, divinely tall, And most divinely fair.
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It was my duty to have loved the highest It surely was my profit had I known: It would have been my pleasure had I seen. We needs must love the highest when we see it, Not Lancelot, nor another.
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Any man that walks the mead In bud, or blade, or bloom, may find, According as his humors lead, A meaning suited to his mind.
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A simple maiden in her flower, Is worth a hundred coats of arms.
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The passionate heart of the poet is whirled into folly and vice.
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I am going a long way With these thou seëst-if indeed I go (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt)- To the island-valley of Avilion, Where falls not hail or rain or any snow, Nor ever wind blows loudly but it lies Deep-meadow'd, happy, fair with orchard lawns And bowery hollows crown'd with summer sea, Where I will heal me of my grievous wound.
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Her eyes are homes of silent prayers.
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She hath no loyal knight and true, The Lady of Shalott.
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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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And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the summer sea, But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the fifty-three.
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For love reflects the thing beloved.
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Mastering the lawless science of our law,- that codeless myriad of precedent, that wilderness of single instances.
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All Life needs for life is possible to will.
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The time draws near the birth of Christ The moon is hid the night is still The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist.
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Twilight and evening bell, and after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell when I embark.
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Be near me when my light is low... And all the wheels of being slow.
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