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Man is man, and master of his fate.
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
Master
Fate
Masters
Men
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Be near me when my light is low... And all the wheels of being slow.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Oh that it were possible, After long grief and pain, To find the arms of my true love, Around me once again
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
In the long years liker they must grow The man be more of woman, she of man.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Shall the hag Evil die with the child of Good, Or propagate again her loathèd kind, Thronging the cells of the diseased mind, Hateful with hanging cheeks, a withered brood, Though hourly pastured on the salient blood?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sweet is every sound, sweeter the voice, but every sound is sweet.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
All experience is an arch wherethrough gleams that untravelled world whose margin fades for ever and for ever when I move.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
O Love! what hours were thine and mine, In lands of palm and southern pine In lands of palm, of orange-blossom, Of olive, aloe, and maize and vine!
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
We are self-uncertain creatures, and we may Yea, even when we know not, mix our spites And private hates with our defence of Heaven.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er, Like coarsest clothes against the cold
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Shall eagles not be eagles? wrens be wrens? If all the world were falcons, what of that? The wonder of the eagle were the less, But he not less the eagle.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sweet is true love, though given in vain.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
O love, O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul through My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
We needs must love the highest when we see it.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Courtesy wins woman all as well. As valor may, but he that closes both is perfect.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
O Love! they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow! set the wild echoes flying! And answer, echoes, answer! dying, dying, dying.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
His honour rooted in dishonour stood, And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Every moment dies a man, Every moment one is born.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
