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In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.
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
Like
Rounds
Swoon
Breathing
Languid
Seemed
Coast
Air
Weary
Land
Unto
Came
Hath
Dream
Afternoon
Always
Round
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles whom we knew.
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A sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier times.
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Love's too precious to be lost, A little grain shall not be spilt.
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Either sex alone is half itself.
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Once in a golden hour, I cast to earth a seed, And up there grew a flower, That others called a weed.
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Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver.
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Happy he With such a mother! faith in womankind Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high Comes easy to him and tho' he trip and fall, He shall not blind his soul with clay.
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God made thee good as thou art beautiful.
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Follow the deer? Follow the Christ the King. Live pure, speak true,right wrong, Follow the King-- Else, wherefore born?
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Forgive! How many will say, forgive, and find a sort of absolution in the sound to hate a little longer!
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I loved you, and my love had no return, And therefore my true love has been my death.
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Shall the hag Evil die with the child of Good, Or propagate again her loathèd kind, Thronging the cells of the diseased mind, Hateful with hanging cheeks, a withered brood, Though hourly pastured on the salient blood?
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Nor at all can tell Whether I mean this day to end myself, Or lend an ear to Plato where he says, That men like soldiers may not quit the post Allotted by the Gods.
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The mirror crack'd from side to side The curse has come upon me, cried The Lady of Shalott
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Beauty and anguish walking hand in hand the downward slope to death.
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She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces through the room
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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
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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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And what delights can equal those That stir the spirit's inner deeps, When one that loves but knows not, reaps A truth from one that loves and knows?
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Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls.
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