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The woman's cause is man's. They rise or sink Together. / Dwarf'd or godlike, bound or free miserable, / How shall men grow? - Let her be / All that not harms distinctive womanhood.
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
Harms
Causes
Bounds
Free
Miserable
Dwarves
Woman
Rise
Godlike
Together
Harm
Dwarfs
Men
Cause
Womanhood
Grow
Distinctive
Shall
Sink
Dwarf
Grows
Bound
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Shall it not be scorn to me to harp on such a moulder'd string? I am shamed through all my nature to have lov'd so slight a thing.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Men may come and men may go but I go on forever.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
What! I should call on that Infinite Love that has served us so well? Infinite cruelty rather, that made everlasting hell, Made us, foreknew us, foredoom'd us, and does what he will with his own Better our dead brute mother who never has heard us groan.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I heard no longer The snowy-banded, dilettante, Delicate-handed priest intone.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Launch your vessel, And crowd your canvas, And, ere it vanishes Over the margin, After it, follow it, FollowThe Gleam.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Trust me not at all, or all in all.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Whate'er thy joys, they vanish with the day: Whate'er thy griefs, in sleep they fade away, To sleep! to sleep! Sleep, mournful heart, and let the past be past: Sleep, happy soul, all life will sleep at last.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Thou madest man, he knows not why, he thinks he was not made to die.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces through the room, She saw the water-lily bloom, She saw the helmet and the plume, She look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide The mirror crack'd from side to side The curse is come upon me, cried The Lady of Shalott.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.
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
Woman is the lesser man.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The passionate heart of the poet is whirled into folly and vice.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
With a little hoard of maxims preaching down a daughter's heart.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Name and fame! to fly sublime Through the courts, the camps, the schools Is to be the ball of Time, Bandied in the hands of fools.
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
Tho' much is taken, much abides.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
This world was once a fluid haze of light, Till toward the centre set the starry tides, And eddied into suns, that wheeling cast The planets: then the monster, then the man.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
