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It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles whom we knew.
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
May
Isles
Great
Achilles
Isle
Touch
Shall
Knew
Happiness
Happy
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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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Science grows and Beauty dwindles.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The thrall in person may be free in soul
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The folly of all follies is to be love sick for a shadow.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The noonday quiet holds the hill.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I loved you, and my love had no return, And therefore my true love has been my death.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
A still small voice spake unto me, 'Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The year is dying in the night.
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He that wrongs a friend Wrongs himself more, and ever bears about A silent court of justice in his breast, Himself the judge and jury, and himself The prisoner at the bar ever condemned.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ring out the grief that saps the mind, for those that were here we see no more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
So now I have sworn to bury All this dead body of hate I feel so free and so clear By the loss of that dead weight
Alfred Lord Tennyson
As love, if love be perfect, casts out fear, so hate, if hate be perfect, casts out fear.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
There she weaves by night and day, A magic web with colors gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay, To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
So sad, so fresh the days that are no more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The woods decay, the woods decay and fall, The vapours weep their burthen to the ground, Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath, And after many summer dies the swan. Me only cruel immortality Consumes: I wither slowly in thine arms, Here at the quiet limit of the world.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
