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Ah, why Should life all labour be?
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
Labour
Life
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
She hath no loyal knight and true, The Lady of Shalott.
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Ah, Christ, that it were possible, For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.
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Sweet is true love that is given in vain, and sweet is death that takes away pain.
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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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Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Do we indeed desire the dead Should still be near us at our side ? Is there no baseness we would hide ? No inner vileness that we dread ? How many a father have I seen A sober man, among his boys Whose youth was full of foolish noise.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
All is well, tho' faith and form Be sunder'd in the night of fear.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Behold, we know not anything I can but trust that good shall fall At last-far off-at last, to all, And every winter change to spring.
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What was once to me mere matter of the fancy now has grown the vast necessity of heart and life.
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We cannot be kind to each other here for even an hour. We whisper, and hint, and chuckle and grin at our brother's shame however you take it we men are a little breed.
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Blind and naked ignorance delivers brawling judgments, unashamed, on all things all day long
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So sad, so fresh the days that are no more.
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Whatever crazy sorrow saith, No life that breathes with human breath Has ever truly longed for death.
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A still small voice spake unto me, 'Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And o'er the hills, and far away Beyond their utmost purple rim, Beyond the night, across the day, Thro' all the world she follow'd him.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Name and fame! to fly sublime Through the courts, the camps, the schools Is to be the ball of Time, Bandied in the hands of fools.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Like a dog, he hunts in dreams.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And wheresoe'er thou move, good luck Shall fling her old shoe after.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Too much wit makes the world rotten.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls.
Alfred Lord Tennyson