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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
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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
Round
Warble
Wells
Rounds
Blackbird
Well
Neighbor
Blackbirds
Something
Thou
Fruitful
Thee
Dwell
Sing
Neighbors
Ground
Smooth
Keep
Shoot
More quotes by 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
O mighty-mouthed inventor of harmonies, O skilled to sing of Time or Eternity, God-gifted organ-voice of England, Milton, a name to resound for ages.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
She sleeps: her breathings are not heard In palace chambers far apart. The fragrant tresses are not stirr'd That lie upon her charmed heart She sleeps: on either hand upswells The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest: She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells A perfect form in perfect rest.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Read my little fable: He that runs may read. Most can raise the flowers now, For all have got the seed.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ah, when shall all men's good Be each man's rule, and universal peace Lie like a shaft of light across the land, And like a lane of beams athwart the sea, Thro' all the circle of the golden year?
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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Twilight and evening bell, and after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell when I embark.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The long day wanes the slow moon climbs the deep.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
O Love! they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow! set the wild echoes flying! And answer, echoes, answer! dying, dying, dying.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
But the churchmen fain would kill their church, As the churches have kill'd their Christ.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Nor is he the wisest man who never proved himself a fool.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
A lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Beauty and anguish walking hand in hand the downward slope to death.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
We needs must love the highest when we see it.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Such a one do I remember, whom to look at was love.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
What the sunshine is to the flower, the Lord Jesus Christ is to my soul.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And sometimes through the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Love is hurt with jar and fret Love is made a vague regret.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ours is not to wonder why. Ours is just to do or die.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
