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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.
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
Side
Depths
Either
Depth
Laps
Sides
Lips
Shrine
Sound
Wings
Shrines
Heart
Pass
Incense
Love
Sweet
Dwells
Thoughts
Lap
Deep
Absorbing
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It is hard to wive and thrive both in a year.
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Better not to be at all Than not to be noble.
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Rain, rain, and sun! A rainbow in the sky!
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Love is hurt with jar and fret Love is made a vague regret.
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Those who depend on the merits of their ancestors may be said to search in the roots of the tree for those fruits which the branches ought to produce.
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The long day wanes the slow moon climbs the deep.
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The same words conceal and declare the thoughts of men.
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But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.
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What the sunshine is to the flower, the Lord Jesus Christ is to my soul.
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O son, thou hast not true humility, The highest virtue, mother of them all But her thou hast not know for what is this? Thou thoughtest of thy prowess and thy sins Thou hast not lost thyself to save thyself.
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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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He makes no friend who never made a foe.
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Oh good gray head which all men knew!
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Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
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I cannot rest from travel: I will drink Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those That loved me, and alone.
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Oh yet we trust that somehow good will be the final goal of ill!
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A truth looks freshest in the fashions of the day.
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And down I went to fetch my bride: But, Alice, you were ill at ease This dress and that by turns you tried, Too fearful that you should not please. I loved you better for your fears, I knew you could not look but well And dews, that would have fall'n in tears, I kiss'd away before they fell.
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Happy days roll onward leading up to golden years.
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O last regret, regret can die!
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