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And the days darken round me, and the years, Among new men, strange faces, other minds.
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
Days
Faces
Mind
Darken
Years
Round
Men
Rounds
Minds
Among
Strange
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers.
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All is well, tho' faith and form Be sunder'd in the night of fear.
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What was once to me mere matter of the fancy now has grown the vast necessity of heart and life.
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A day may sink or save a realm.
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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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'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.
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Once in a golden hour, I cast to earth a seed, And up there grew a flower, That others called a weed.
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He that shuts love out, in turn shall be Shut out from love, and on her threshold lie, Howling in outer darkness.
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The woman is so hard Upon the woman.
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Ring out old shapes of foul disease, Ring out the narrowing lust of gold Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace.
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Authority forgets a dying king.
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Nature is one with rapine, a harm no preacher can heal The Mayfly is torn by the swallow, the sparrow speared by the shrike, And the whole little wood where I sit is a world of plunder and prey.
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I waited for the train at Coventry I hung with grooms and porters on the bridge, To watch the three tall spires and there I shaped The city's ancient legend into this.
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And others' follies teach us not, Nor much their wisdom teaches, And most, of sterling worth, is what Our own experience preaches.
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The jingling of the guinea helps the hurt that Honor feels.
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My mind is clouded with a doubt.
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Dowered with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love.
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Jewels five-words-long, That on the stretch'd forefinger of all Time Sparkle forever.
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Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new, That which they have done but earnest of the things which they shall do.
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The noonday quiet holds the hill.
Alfred Lord Tennyson