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I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley.
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
Come
Sally
Make
Haunts
Sparkle
Valley
Valleys
Sudden
Bicker
Streams
Fern
Among
Ferns
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
That tower of strength Which stood four-square to all the winds that blew.
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Our little systems have their day They have their day and cease to be… And thou, O Lord, art more than they.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?
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Beauty and anguish walking hand in hand the downward slope to death.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The many fail: the one succeeds.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
From yon blue heaven above us bent, The grand old gardener and his wife Smile at the claims of long descent.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Follow the deer? Follow the Christ the King. Live pure, speak true,right wrong, Follow the King-- Else, wherefore born?
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I grow in worth, and wit, and sense, Unboding critic-pen, Or that eternal want of pence, Which vexes public men.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Old men must die, or the world would grow mouldy, would only breed the past again.
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All the windy ways of men Are but dust that rises up, And is lightly laid again.
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The mirror crack'd from side to side The curse has come upon me, cried The Lady of Shalott
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Lo! sweeten'd with the summer light, The full-juiced apple, waxing over-mellow, Drops in a silent autumn night. All its allotted length of days The flower ripens in its place, Ripens and fades, and falls, and hath no toil, Fast-rooted in the fruitful soil.
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Rich in saving common-sense, And, as the greatest only are, In his simplicity sublime.
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
The parting of a husband and wife is like the cleaving of a heart one half will flutter here, one there.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The white flower of a blameless life.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The year is dying in the night.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence but in the mastery of his passions.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
She hath no loyal knight and true, The Lady of Shalott.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The passionate heart of the poet is whirled into folly and vice.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
