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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.
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
Takes
Carol
Full
Swan
Death
Carols
Swans
Flood
Breasted
Wild
Plume
Pure
Ruffles
Cold
Webs
More quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson
It is the little rift within the lute That by and by will make the music mute, And ever widening slowly silence all.
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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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
So now I have sworn to bury All this dead body of hate I feel so free and so clear By the loss of that dead weight
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Things seen are mightier than things heard.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Nor at all can tell Whether I mean this day to end myself, Or lend an ear to Plato where he says, That men like soldiers may not quit the post Allotted by the Gods.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
We love but while we may And therefore is my love so large for thee, Seeing it is not bounded save by love.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Trust me not at all, or all in all.
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Man is the hunter women are the game those sleek and shining creatures of the chase. We hunt them for the beauty of their skins they love us for it, and we ride them down.
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I must lose myself in action, lest I wither in despair.
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Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
That man's the true Conservative who lops the moldered branch away.
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Faith lives in honest doubt.
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O mighty-mouthed inventor of harmonies, O skilled to sing of Time or Eternity, God-gifted organ-voice of England, Milton, a name to resound for ages.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I have led her home, my love, my only friend. There is none like her, none, And never yet so warmly ran my blood, And sweetly, on and on Calming itself to the long-wished for end, Full to the banks, close on the prom- ised good.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
There sinks the nebulous star we call the sun.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ours is not to wonder why. Ours is just to do or die.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Here about the beach I wandered, nourishing a youth sublime With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Here at the quiet limit of the world.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
An English homegrey twilight poured On dewy pasture, dewy trees, Softer than sleepall things in order stored, A haunt of ancient Peace.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
