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Nature is one with rapine, a harm no preacher can heal The Mayfly is torn by the swallow, the sparrow speared by the shrike, And the whole little wood where I sit is a world of plunder and prey.
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
Little
Preacher
Whole
Wood
World
Torn
Rapine
Heal
Sparrow
Woods
Sparrows
Harm
Plunder
Nature
Swallow
Littles
Prey
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
A truth looks freshest in the fashions of the day.
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I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
No rock so hard but that a little wave may beat admission in a thousand years.
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As the husband is the wife is thou art mated with a clown, As the grossness of his nature will have weight to drag thee down.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Not wholly in the busy world, nor quite Beyond it, blooms the garden that I love. News from the humming city comes to it It sound of funeral or of marriage bells.
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I came in haste with cursing breath, And heart of hardest steel But when I saw thee cold in death, I felt as man should feel. For when I look upon that face, That cold, unheeding, frigid brown, Where neither rage nor fear has place, By Heaven! I cannot hate thee now!
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I do but sing because I must and pipe but as the linnets sing.
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That tower of strength Which stood four-square to all the winds that blew.
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All Life needs for life is possible to will.
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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
For now the poet cannot die, Nor leave his music as of old, But round him ere he scarce be cold Begins the scandal and the cry.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
O Blackbird! sing me something well: While all the neighbors shoot thee round, I keep smooth plats of fruitful ground, Where thou may'st warble, eat and dwell.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sweet is true love, though given in vain.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Like a dog, he hunts in dreams.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Virtue must shape itself in deed.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Faith and unfaith can ne'er be equal powers Unfaith is aught is want of faith in all.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Can calm despair and wild unrest Be tenants of a single breast, Or sorrow such a changeling be?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
We are ancients of the earth, And in the morning of the times.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Willows whiten, aspens quiver, little breezes dusk and shiver, thro' the wave that runs forever by the island in the river, flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls and four gray towers, overlook a space of flowers, and the silent isle imbowers, the Lady of Shalott.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
