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Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes - Page 18

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Shall it not be scorn to me to harp on such a moulder'd string? I am shamed through all my nature to have lov'd so slight a thing.

Shall it not be scorn to me to harp on such a moulder'd string? I am shamed through all my nature to have lov'd so slight a thing.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Life, Harps, Strings
Lord Alfred Tennyson, “Locksley Hall”

Ring out old shapes of foul disease, Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Peace, War, Years
'In Memoriam A. H. H.' (1850) canto 106

Guard your roving thoughts with a jealous care, for speech is but the dialer of thoughts, and every fool can plainly read in your words what is the hour of your thoughts.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Jealous, Thinking, Fool

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
Men, House, Soul
Alfred Lord Tennyson, “By An Evolutionist”

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
Children, Cells, Blood

On all things created remaineth the half-effaced signature of God, Somewhat of fair and good, though blotted by the finger of corruption.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
God, Signatures, Half

The woods are hush'd, their music is no more; The leaf is dead, the yearning past away; New leaf, new life--the days of frost are o'er; New life, new love, to suit the newer day: New loves are sweet as those that went before: Free love--free field--we love but while we may.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sweet, Past, Fields
Alfred, Lord Tennyson (2012). “Idylls of the King”, p.217, Courier Corporation

Willows whiten, aspens quiver, little breezes dusk and shiver, thro' the wave that runs forever by the island in the river, flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls and four gray towers, overlook a space of flowers, and the silent isle imbowers, the Lady of Shalott.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Running, Wall, Flower
Alfred, Lord Tennyson, Professor Norman Page (2013). “Tennyson: Selected Poetry”, p.20, Routledge

All the windy ways of men Are but dust that rises up, And is lightly laid again.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Men, Dust, Way
Alfred, Lord Tennyson (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson (Illustrated)”, p.527, Delphi Classics

This truth within thy mind rehearse, That in a boundless universe Is boundless better, boundless worse.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Truth, Mind, Boundless
'The Two Voices' (1842) st. 9

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!

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Love, Orange, Land
'The Daisy' (1855) st. 1

In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Dream, Air, Land
1832 Poems,'The Lotos - Eaters', l.1-6.

Those who depend on the merits of their ancestors may be said to search in the roots of the tree for those fruits which the branches ought to produce.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Roots, Tree, Merit

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
Art, Dark, Two
Alfred, Lord Tennyson (2014). “In Memoriam”, p.46, Broadview Press

That man's the best cosmopolite Who loves his native country best.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Country, Men, Cosmopolitanism
Alfred, Lord Tennyson (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson (Illustrated)”, p.575, Delphi Classics

Is there evil but on earth? Or pain in every peopled sphere? Well, be grateful for the sounding watchword "Evolution" here.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Pain, Grateful, People
"Locksley Hall Sixty Years After". Pome by Alfred Lord Tennyson, 1886.

Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new, That which they have done but earnest of the things which they shall do.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Brother, Men, Done
'Locksley Hall' (1842) l. 117

In the long years liker they must grow; The man be more of woman, she of man.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Men, Years, Long
Alfred Lord Tennyson, “The Princess (Part 7)”

We are self-uncertain creatures, and we may Yea, even when we know not, mix our spites And private hates with our defence of Heaven.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Hate, Self, Heaven
Alfred, Lord Tennyson (2013). “Delphi Complete Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson (Illustrated)”, p.1993, Delphi Classics

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
Prayer, Men, Sheep
'Idylls of the King' (1842-85) 'The Passing of Arthur' (1869) l. 414

The woman's cause is man's: they rise or sink Together.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Men, Together, Causes
Alfred, Lord Tennyson (2014). “Alfred, Lord Tennyson: Selected Poetry: A Broadview Anthology of British Literature Edition”, p.90, Broadview Press

The year is dying in the night.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Night, Years, Dying
'In Memoriam A. H. H.' (1850) canto 106

This round of green, this orb of flame, Fantastic beauty; such as lurks In some wild poet, when he works Without a conscience or an aim.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Flames, Atheism, Green
Alfred, Lord Tennyson (2014). “Alfred, Lord Tennyson: Selected Poetry: A Broadview Anthology of British Literature Edition”, p.120, Broadview Press

And o'er the hills, and far away Beyond their utmost purple rim, Beyond the night, across the day, Thro' all the world she follow'd him.

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Night, Purple, World
Alfred Tennyson Tennyson, Baron, Alfred Lord Tennyson (2014). “Fifty Poems”, p.130, Cambridge University Press

Ah, why Should life all labour be?

Alfred Lord Tennyson
Life, Should, Labour
'The Lotos-Eaters' (1832) Choric Song, st. 4

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