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And common is the commonplace, And vacant chaff well meant for grain.
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
Common
Wells
Well
Chaff
Vacant
Commonplace
Grain
Meant
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid.
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I am a part of all that I have met.
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That tower of strength Which stood four-square to all the winds that blew.
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So many worlds, so much to do, so little done, such things to be.
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Yet is there one true line, the pearl of pearls: Man dreams of Fame while woman wakes to love.
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Rain, rain, and sun! A rainbow in the sky!
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He that wrongs his friend, wrongs himself more.
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It is unconceivable that the whole Universe was merely created for us who live in this third-rate planet of a third-rate moon.
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Break, break, break, On thy cold gray stones, oh sea! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that arise in me.
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Nor at all can tell Whether I mean this day to end myself, Or lend an ear to Plato where he says, That men like soldiers may not quit the post Allotted by the Gods.
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Ring out the false, ring in the true.
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The sin That neither God nor man can well forgive.
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For every worm beneath the moon Draws different threads, and late and soon Spins, toiling out his own cocoon.
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But the churchmen fain would kill their church, As the churches have kill'd their Christ.
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The jingling of the guinea helps the hurt that Honor feels.
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I will be deafer than the blue-eyed cat, And thrice as blind as any noonday owl, To holy virgins in their ecstasies.
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And men, whose reason long was blind, From cells of madness unconfined, Oft lose whole years of darker mind.
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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!
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Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
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But for the unquiet heart and brain A use in measured language lies The sad mechanic exercise Like dull narcotics numbing pain.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
