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There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass.
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
Roses
Falls
Grass
Rose
Sweet
Fall
Softer
Music
Petals
Blown
More quotes by 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
And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the summer sea, But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the fifty-three.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
And others' follies teach us not, Nor much their wisdom teaches, And most, of sterling worth, is what Our own experience preaches.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
All is well, tho' faith and form Be sunder'd in the night of fear.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The Lord let the house of a brute to the soul of a man, And the man said, Am I your debtor? And the Lord--Not yet: but make it as clean as you can, And then I will let you a better.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Oh yet we trust that somehow good will be the final goal of ill!
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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
The greater man the greater courtesy.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn, The moans of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of innumerable bees.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
He is all fault who has no fault at all.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The jingling of the guinea helps the hurt that Honor feels.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Ring out the grief that saps the mind, for those that were here we see no more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I grow in worth, and wit, and sense, Unboding critic-pen, Or that eternal want of pence, Which vexes public men.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Better not be at all than not be noble.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
What are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend?
Alfred Lord Tennyson
The sin That neither God nor man can well forgive.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
So I find every pleasant spot In which we two were wont to meet, The field, the chamber, and the street, For all is dark where thou art not
Alfred Lord Tennyson
A sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier times.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
I am half-sick of shadows,' said The Lady of Shalott.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
