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A pasty costly-made, Where quail and pigeon, lark and leveret lay, Like fossils of the rock, with golden yolks Imbedded and injellied.

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
Golden
Lark
Cooking
Larks
Rock
Pigeon
Yolks
Rocks
Pigeons
Pasty
Food
Costly
Imbedded
Made
Fossils
Pasties
Like
Culinary
Quail
Lays
Quails

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I built my soul a lordly pleasure-house, Wherein at ease for aye to dwell.
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Jewels five-words-long, That on the stretch'd forefinger of all Time Sparkle forever.
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Any man that walks the mead In bud, or blade, or bloom, may find, According as his humors lead, A meaning suited to his mind.
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How dull it is to pause, to make an end, to rust unburnished, not to shine in use! As though to breathe were life.
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Like a dog, he hunts in dreams.
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Where love could walk with banish'd Hope no more.
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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.
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I hold it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.
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Faith is believing what we cannot prove.
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The last great Englishman is low.
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Old age hath yet his honour and his toil.
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...and our spirits rushed together at the touching of the lips.
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I can't be anonymous by reason of your confounded photographs. (To Julia Margaret Cameron)
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Shall the hag Evil die with the child of Good, Or propagate again her loathèd kind, Thronging the cells of the diseased mind, Hateful with hanging cheeks, a withered brood, Though hourly pastured on the salient blood?
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Either sex alone is half itself.
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