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Blow trumpet, for the world is white with May.
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
Trumpet
Trumpets
Blow
White
May
World
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
God made thee good as thou art beautiful.
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Who is wise in love, love most, say least.
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Where love could walk with banish'd Hope no more.
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A louse in the locks of literature.
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If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever.
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To me He is all fault who hath no fault at all: For who loves me must have a touch of earth.
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Arise, go forth, and conquer as of old.
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Oh good gray head which all men knew!
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Love lieth deep Love dwells not in lip-depths.
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Here at the quiet limit of the world.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Many a night I saw the Pleiads, Rising thro' the mellow shade, Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies, Tangled in a silver braid.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
O love, O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul through My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.
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The same words conceal and declare the thoughts of men.
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For this is England's greatest son, He that gain'd a hundred fights, And never lost an English gun.
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On all things created remaineth the half-effaced signature of God, Somewhat of fair and good, though blotted by the finger of corruption.
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All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful past.
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For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid.
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Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and I linger on the shore, And the individual withers, and the world is more and more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Name and fame! to fly sublime Through the courts, the camps, the schools Is to be the ball of Time, Bandied in the hands of fools.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The woods are hush'd, their music is no more The leaf is dead, the yearning past away New leaf, new life--the days of frost are o'er New life, new love, to suit the newer day: New loves are sweet as those that went before: Free love--free field--we love but while we may.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
