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Nothing in Nature is unbeautiful.
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
Nature
Nothing
More quotes by 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
I came in haste with cursing breath, And heart of hardest steel But when I saw thee cold in death, I felt as man should feel. For when I look upon that face, That cold, unheeding, frigid brown, Where neither rage nor fear has place, By Heaven! I cannot hate thee now!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Red of the Dawn Is it turning a fainter red? so be it, but when shall we lay The ghost of the Brute that is walking and hammering us yet and be free?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Old men must die, or the world would grow mouldy, would only breed the past again.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Science grows and Beauty dwindles.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Nor is it wiser to weep a true occasion lost, but trim our sails, and let old bygones be.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
All is well, tho' faith and form Be sunder'd in the night of fear.
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
Tis not your work, but Love's. Love, unperceived, A more ideal Artist he than all, Came, drew your pencil from you, made those eyes Darker than the darkest pansies, and that hair More black than ashbuds in the front of March.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The city is built To music, therefore never built at all, And therefore built forever.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
There rolls the deep where grew the tree. O earth, what changes hast thou seen! There where the long street roars, hath been The stillness of the central sea. The hills are shadows, and they flow From form to form, and nothing stands They melt like mist, the solid lands, Like clouds they shape themselves and go.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
God gives us love. Something to love He lends us but when love is grown To ripeness, that on which it throve Falls off, and love is left alone.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
On all things created remaineth the half-effaced signature of God, Somewhat of fair and good, though blotted by the finger of corruption.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The old order changeth, yielding place to new, and god fulfills himself in many ways, lest one good custom should corrupt the world.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
A day may sink or save a realm.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
He clasps the crag with crooked hands Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ringed with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls.
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
God made thee good as thou art beautiful.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Nor is he the wisest man who never proved himself a fool.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
