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The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
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
World
Late
Newer
Deep
Climbs
Friends
Voices
Voice
Round
Nature
Rounds
Come
Slow
Many
Seek
Wanes
Long
Moon
Moans
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
if you don't concentrate on what you are doing then the thing that you are doing is not what you are thinking.
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Our wills are ours, we know not how Our wills are ours, to make them thine.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.
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And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill But O for the touch of a vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, oh sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me.
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Do we indeed desire the dead Should still be near us at our side ? Is there no baseness we would hide ? No inner vileness that we dread ? How many a father have I seen A sober man, among his boys Whose youth was full of foolish noise.
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Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand Ring out the darkness of the land Ring in the Christ that is to be.
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We needs must love the highest when we see it.
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What's up is faith, what's down is heresy.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Our little systems have their day They have their day and cease to be… And thou, O Lord, art more than they.
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The same words conceal and declare the thoughts of men.
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The year is dying in the night.
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Blow trumpet, for the world is white with May.
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God gives us love. Something to love He lends us but when love is grown To ripeness, that on which it throve Falls off, and love is left alone.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Courtesy wins woman all as well. As valor may, but he that closes both is perfect.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.
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'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
If I make dark my countenance, I shut my life from happier chance.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
