Alfred, Lord Tennyson Quotes
Yet is there one true line, the pearl of pearls: Man dreams of Fame while woman wakes to love.
Let knowledge grow from more to more, But more of reverence in us dwell; That mind and soul, according well, May make one music as before, But vaster.
Any man that walks the mead In bud, or blade, or bloom, may find, According as his humors lead, A meaning suited to his mind.
The woman's cause is man's. They rise or sink Together. / Dwarf'd or godlike, bound or free; miserable, / How shall men grow? - Let her be / All that not harms distinctive womanhood.
I grow in worth, and wit, and sense, Unboding critic-pen, Or that eternal want of pence, Which vexes public men.
In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er, Like coarsest clothes against the cold
Here about the beach I wandered, nourishing a youth sublime With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time.
It may be that no life is found, Which only to one engine bound Falls off, but cycles always round.
Follow the deer? Follow the Christ the King. Live pure, speak true,right wrong, Follow the King-- Else, wherefore born?
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.
That which we are, we are, and if we are ever to be any better, now is the time to begin.
Forgive my grief for one removed Thy creature whom I found so fair I trust he lives in Thee and there I find him worthier to be loved.
Cricket, however, has more in it than mere efficiency. There is something called the spirit of cricket, which cannot be defined.
Sweet were the days when I was all unknown, But when my name was lifted up, the storm Brake on the mountain and I cared not for it. Right well know I that fame is half disfame.
And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still!
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.
I waited for the train at Coventry; I hung with grooms and porters on the bridge, To watch the three tall spires; and there I shaped The city's ancient legend into this.
Thoroughly to believe in one's own self, so one's self were thorough, were to do great things.
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.
Our little systems have their day; They have their day and cease to be… And thou, O Lord, art more than they.
The old order changeth, yielding place to new, and god fulfills himself in many ways, lest one good custom should corrupt the world.
Not once or twice in our rough island story, The path of duty was the way to glory.
Jewels five-words-long, That on the stretch'd forefinger of all Time Sparkle forever.
That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright, But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight.
For this alone on Death I wreak The wrath that garners in my heart: He put our lives so far apart We cannot hear each other speak.
Because right is right, to follow right Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.
From yon blue heaven above us bent, The grand old gardener and his wife Smile at the claims of long descent.
Who trusted God was love indeed And love Creation's final law Though Nature, red in tooth and claw With ravine, shrieked against his creed.
Old men must die, or the world would grow mouldy, would only breed the past again.
Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new, That which they have done but earnest of the things which they shall do.
