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Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
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
League
Six
Hundred
Half
Death
Rode
Onward
Valley
Valleys
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Words, like nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within.
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Happy days roll onward leading up to golden years.
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But while I breathe Heaven's air and Heaven looks down on me, And smiles at my best meanings, I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul.
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Oh that it were possible, After long grief and pain, To find the arms of my true love, Around me once again
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In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.
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A classic lecture, rich in sentiment, With scraps of thundrous Epic lilted out By violet-hooded Doctors, elegies And quoted odes, and jewels five-words-long, That on the stretched forefinger of all Time Sparkle for ever.
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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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Life is brief but love is LONG .
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And Thought leapt out to wed with Thought Ere Thought could wed itself with Speech.
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...and our spirits rushed together at the touching of the lips.
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Guard your roving thoughts with a jealous care, for speech is but the dialer of thoughts, and every fool can plainly read in your words what is the hour of your thoughts.
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The noonday quiet holds the hill.
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Wearing all that weight Of learning lightly like a flower.
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I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time.
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And so the Word had breath, and wrought With human hands the creed of creeds In loveliness of perfect deeds, More strong than all poetic thoughts Which he may read that binds the sheaf, Or builds the house, or digs the grave, And those wild eyes that watch the waves In roarings round the coral reef.
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Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go Ring out the false, ring in the true.
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Red of the Dawn Is it turning a fainter red? so be it, but when shall we lay The ghost of the Brute that is walking and hammering us yet and be free?
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We are ancients of the earth, And in the morning of the times.
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How many a father have I seen, A sober man, among his boys, Whose youth was full of foolish noise.
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Either sex alone is half itself.
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