Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson, FRSwas Poet Laureate of Great Britain and Ireland during much of Queen Victoria's reign and remains one of the most popular British poets...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth6 August 1809
dust age deeds
I know that age to age succeeds, Blowing a noise of tongues and deeds, A dust of systems and of creeds.
men dust way
All the windy ways of men Are but dust that rises up, And is lightly laid again.
heart dust sparks
Virtue!--to be good and just-- Every heart, when sifted well, Is a clot of warmer dust, Mix'd with cunning sparks of hell.
fall dust hands
I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope thro' darkness up to God, I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, And gather dust and chaff, and call To what I feel is Lord of all, And faintly trust the larger hope.
He makes no friends who never made a foe.
true-love pain grief
Oh that it were possible, After long grief and pain, To find the arms of my true love, Around me once again
life dream men
My doom is, I love thee still. Let no man dream but that I love thee still.
inspirational new-year years
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.
spiritual real believe
You may tell me that my hand and foot are only imaginary symbols of my existence. I could believe you, but you never, never can convince me that the I is not an eternal reality, and that the spiritual is not the true and real part of me.
ignorance long naked
Blind and naked ignorance delivers brawling judgments, unashamed, on all things all day long
climbing mud evolution
Evolution ever climbing after some ideal good, And Reversion ever dragging Evolution in the mud.
beautiful voice silence
Silence, beautiful voice.
gratitude grateful cells
My life has crept so long on a broken wing Through cells of madness, haunts of horror and fear, That I come to be grateful at last for a little thing.
life shining age
How dull it is to pause, to make an end, to rust unburnished, not to shine in use! As though to breathe were life.