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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
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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
Tell
Posts
Ends
Quit
May
Quitting
Mean
Gods
Allotted
Men
Soldier
Lend
Like
Ears
Plato
Says
Soldiers
Whether
Post
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind. For they lie beside their nectar, and the bolts are hurled Far below them in the valleys, and the clouds are lightly curled Round their golden houses, girdled with the gleaming world.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Love lieth deep Love dwells not in lip-depths Love laps his wings on either side the heart Absorbing all the incense of sweet thoughts, So that they pass not to the shrine of sound.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
But while I breathe Heaven's air and Heaven looks down on me, And smiles at my best meanings, I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
He that shuts love out, in turn shall be Shut out from love, and on her threshold lie, Howling in outer darkness.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
For I dipped into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
How many a father have I seen, A sober man, among his boys, Whose youth was full of foolish noise.
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
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depths of some devine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
If I make dark my countenance, I shut my life from happier chance.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And on her lover's arm she leant, And round her waist she felt it fold, And far across the hills they went In that new world which is the old.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Love lieth deep Love dwells not in lip-depths.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful past.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Beauty and anguish walking hand in hand the downward slope to death.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And blessings on the falling out That all the more endears, When we fall out with those we love And kiss again with tears!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
A simple maiden in her flower, Is worth a hundred coats of arms.
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
In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er, Like coarsest clothes against the cold
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul Of that waste place with joy Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear The warble was low, and full and clear.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The bearing and the training of a child Is woman's wisdom.
Alfred Lord Tennyson