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France had shown a light to all men, preached a Gospel, all men's good Celtic Demos rose a Demon, shriek'd and slaked the light with blood.
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
Blood
Demos
Light
Celtic
Good
Preached
Men
Shown
Demon
Gospel
France
Rose
Shriek
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I found Him in the shining of the stars.
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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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I sometimes find it half a sin, To put to words the grief i feel, For words like nature,half reveal, and half conceal the soul within.
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And was the day of my delight As pure and perfect as I say?
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All is well, tho' faith and form Be sunder'd in the night of fear.
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Sweet is every sound, sweeter the voice, but every sound is sweet.
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No rock so hard but that a little wave may beat admission in a thousand years.
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Love's too precious to be lost, A little grain shall not be spilt.
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Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.
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Faith and unfaith can ne'er be equal powers Unfaith is aught is want of faith in all.
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After-dinner talk Across the walnuts and the wine.
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Love lieth deep Love dwells not in lip-depths Love laps his wings on either side the heart Absorbing all the incense of sweet thoughts, So that they pass not to the shrine of sound.
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All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful past.
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Woman is the lesser man.
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Old men must die, or the world would grow mouldy, would only breed the past again.
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Evolution ever climbing after some ideal good, And Reversion ever dragging Evolution in the mud.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ah, Christ, that it were possible, For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Such a one do I remember, whom to look at was love.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Better not to be at all Than not to be noble.
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From yon blue heaven above us bent, The grand old gardener and his wife Smile at the claims of long descent.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
