Share
×
Inspirational Quotes
Authors
Professions
Topics
Tags
Quote
And oft I heard the tender dove In firry woodlands making moan.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Share
Change background
T
T
T
Change font
Original
TAGS & TOPICS
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
Dove
Tender
Heard
Making
Woodlands
Moan
Woodland
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
But the churchmen fain would kill their church, As the churches have kill'd their Christ.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The folly of all follies is to be love sick for a shadow.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Because right is right, to follow right Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The year is dying in the night.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
An English homegrey twilight poured On dewy pasture, dewy trees, Softer than sleepall things in order stored, A haunt of ancient Peace.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Is there evil but on earth? Or pain in every peopled sphere? Well, be grateful for the sounding watchword Evolution here.
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
I thought I could not breathe in that fine air That pure severity of perfect light I yearned for warmth and colour which I found In Lancelot.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Guard your roving thoughts with a jealous care, for speech is but the dialer of thoughts, and every fool can plainly read in your words what is the hour of your thoughts.
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
I envy not in any moods The captive void of noble rage, The linnet born within the cage, That never knew the summer woods.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Not once or twice in our rough island story, The path of duty was the way to glory.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The woods decay, the woods decay and fall, The vapours weep their burthen to the ground, Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath, And after many summer dies the swan. Me only cruel immortality Consumes: I wither slowly in thine arms, Here at the quiet limit of the world.
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
Shall love be blamed for want of faith?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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
Words, like nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Jewels five-words-long, That on the stretch'd forefinger of all Time Sparkle forever.
Alfred Lord Tennyson