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Though thou wert scattered to the wind, Yet is there plenty of the kind.
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
Thou
Kindness
Wind
Though
Kind
Wert
Scattered
Plenty
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
I do but sing because I must and pipe but as the linnets sing.
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Dear as remembered kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd On lips that are for others deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret O Death in Life, the days that are no more!
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Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
What rights are those that dare not resist for them?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Thou madest man, he knows not why, he thinks he was not made to die.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
A truth looks freshest in the fashions of the day.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I can't be anonymous by reason of your confounded photographs. (To Julia Margaret Cameron)
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Where love could walk with banish'd Hope no more.
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Attain the unattainable.
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The city is built To music, therefore never built at all, And therefore built forever.
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I sometimes find it half a sin, To put to words the grief i feel, For words like nature,half reveal, and half conceal the soul within.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Such a one do I remember, whom to look at was love.
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Some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
What is it all but a trouble of ants in the gleam of a million million of suns?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ah! well away! Seasons flower and fade.
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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Blind and naked ignorance delivers brawling judgments, unashamed, on all things all day long
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Though much is taken, much abides and though We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sweet is every sound, sweeter the voice, but every sound is sweet.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
