Alfred Tennyson
England
6 Aug 1809 // 6 Oct 1892
Poeta
6 Aug 1809 // 6 Oct 1892
Poeta
Quotes
<< Prev Next >>
Wearing the white flower of a blameless life,
Before a thousand peering littlenesses,
In that fierce light which beats upon a throne,
And blackens every blot.
Before a thousand peering littlenesses,
In that fierce light which beats upon a throne,
And blackens every blot.
The Idylls of the King, The Dedication
Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet!
Nothing comes to thee new or strange.
Sleep full of rest from head to feet;
Lie still, dry dust, secure of change.
Nothing comes to thee new or strange.
Sleep full of rest from head to feet;
Lie still, dry dust, secure of change.
To J. S
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them.
. . . .
Into the jaws of death,
Into the mouth of hell
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them.
. . . .
Into the jaws of death,
Into the mouth of hell
Rode the six hundred.
Charge of the Light Brigade
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.
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.
Godiva
He that wrongs a friend
Wrongs himself more, and ever bears about
A silent court of justice in his breast,
Himself the judge and jury, and himself
The prisoner at the bar ever condemned.
Wrongs himself more, and ever bears about
A silent court of justice in his breast,
Himself the judge and jury, and himself
The prisoner at the bar ever condemned.
Happy he
With such a mother! faith in womankind
Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high
Comes easy to him; and tho' he trip and fall,
He shall not blind his soul with clay.
With such a mother! faith in womankind
Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high
Comes easy to him; and tho' he trip and fall,
He shall not blind his soul with clay.
Sweet is every sound,
Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet;
Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn,
The moan of doves in immemorial elms,
And murmuring of innumerable bees.
Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sweet;
Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn,
The moan of doves in immemorial elms,
And murmuring of innumerable bees.
That a lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies;
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.
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.
The Grandmother
Ah, when shall all men's good
Be each man's rule, and universal peace
Lie like a shaft of light across the land,
And like a lane of beams athwart the sea,
Thro' all the circle of the golden year?
Be each man's rule, and universal peace
Lie like a shaft of light across the land,
And like a lane of beams athwart the sea,
Thro' all the circle of the golden year?
The Golden Year
O son, thou hast not true humility,
The highest virtue, mother of them all;
But her thou hast not know; for what is this?
Thou thoughtest of thy prowess and thy sins
Thou hast not lost thyself to save thyself.
The highest virtue, mother of them all;
But her thou hast not know; for what is this?
Thou thoughtest of thy prowess and thy sins
Thou hast not lost thyself to save thyself.
Sir Galahad, Complete Poetical Works of Tennyson
Search
On Anger: "For every minute you remain angry, you give up sixty seconds of peace of mind."
Essays
Essays
On Destiny: "Our destiny exercises its influence over us even when, as yet, we have not learned its nature: it is our future that lays down the law of our today."
Human, All Too Human
Human, All Too Human
On Friendship: "A crowd is not company; and faces are but a gallery of pictures; and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love."
Essays
Essays