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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
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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
Misery
Full
Small
Voice
Art
Stills
Spake
Still
Unto
Better
Thou
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Nothing in Nature is unbeautiful.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
As she fled fast through sun and shade The happy winds upon her play'd, Blowing the ringlet from the braid.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Man is man, and master of his fate.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
All night have the roses heard The flute, violin, bassoon All night has the casement jessamine stirr'd To the dancers dancing in tune Till a silence fell with the waking bird, And a hush with the setting moon.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Forgive! How many will say, forgive, and find a sort of absolution in the sound to hate a little longer!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I am any man's suitor, If any will be my tutor: Some say this life is pleasant, Some think it speedeth fast, In time there is no present, In eternity no future, In eternity no past. We laugh, we cry, we are born, we die. Who will riddle me the how and the why?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
All precious things, discover'd late, To those that seek them issue forth, For love in sequel works with fate, And draws the veil from hidden worth.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The woods decay, the woods decay and fall.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Every man, for the sake of the great blessed Mother in Heaven, and for the love of his own little mother on earth, should handle all womankind gently, and hold them in all Honor.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Who is this? And what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer And they crossed themselves for fear, All the Knights at Camelot But Lancelot mused a little space He said, She has a lovely face God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott.
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
But what am I? An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light: And with no language but a cry.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Every man at time of Death, Would fain set forth some saying that may live After his death and better humankind For death gives life's last word a power to live, And, lie the stone-cut epitaph, remain After the vanished voice, and speak to men.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Here about the beach I wandered, nourishing a youth sublime With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
For this is England's greatest son, He that gain'd a hundred fights, And never lost an English gun.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
It is unconceivable that the whole Universe was merely created for us who live in this third-rate planet of a third-rate moon.
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
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
A louse in the locks of literature.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
