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The wild swan's death-hymn took the soul Of that waste place with joy Hidden in sorrow: at first to the ear The warble was low, and full and clear.
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
Full
Hidden
Clear
Wild
Death
Lows
Place
Ears
Warble
Soul
Sorrow
Hymn
Firsts
Waste
Swan
First
Took
Swans
Joy
Hymns
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
The golden guess is morning-star to the full round of truth.
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This barren verbiage, current among men, Light coin, the tinsel clink of compliment.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I built my soul a lordly pleasure-house, Wherein at ease for aye to dwell.
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Rich in saving common-sense, And, as the greatest only are, In his simplicity sublime.
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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.
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He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.
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Some full-breasted swan That, fluting a wild carol ere her death, Ruffles her pure cold plume, and takes the flood With swarthy webs.
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Is there evil but on earth? Or pain in every peopled sphere? Well, be grateful for the sounding watchword Evolution here.
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And Thought leapt out to wed with Thought Ere Thought could wed itself with Speech.
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Through the ages one increasing purpose runs.
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More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.
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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!
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There's no glory like those who save their country.
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A life of nothing's nothing worth, From that first nothing ere his birth, To that last nothing under earth.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I cannot rest from travel I will drink Life to the lees.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Who is wise in love, love most, say least.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
All the windy ways of men Are but dust that rises up, And is lightly laid again.
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Sweet is true love that is given in vain, and sweet is death that takes away pain.
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?
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With a little hoard of maxims preaching down a daughter's heart.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
