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The passionate heart of the poet is whirled into folly and vice.
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
Heart
Whirled
Vice
Folly
Vices
Passionate
Poet
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ring out the grief that saps the mind, for those that were here we see no more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the summer sea, But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the fifty-three.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
A louse in the locks of literature.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The old order changes yielding place to new.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
As the husband is the wife is thou art mated with a clown, As the grossness of his nature will have weight to drag thee down.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Beauty and anguish walking hand in hand the downward slope to death.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
All is well, tho' faith and form Be sunder'd in the night of fear.
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 same words conceal and declare the thoughts of men.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
By blood a king, in heart a clown.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Love lieth deep Love dwells not in lip-depths.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
She has a lovely face God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
O hark,O hear! how thin and clear And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Half the night I waste in sighs, Half in dreams I sorrow after The delight of early skies In a wakeful dose I sorrow For the hand, the lips, the eyes, For the meeting of the morrow, The delight of happy laughter, The delight of low replies.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Every man at time of Death, Would fain set forth some saying that may live After his death and better humankind For death gives life's last word a power to live, And, lie the stone-cut epitaph, remain After the vanished voice, and speak to men.
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
I know transplanted human worth will bloom to profit otherwhere.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
