Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes

The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs the deep.

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Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever.

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Sweet is true love, though given in vain.

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Nor is it wiser to weep a true occasion lost, but trim our sails, and let old bygones be.

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So sad, so fresh the days that are no more.

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It was my duty to have loved the highest; It surely was my profit had I known: It would have been my pleasure had I seen. We needs must love the highest when we see it, Not Lancelot, nor another.

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Tags : Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes , Needs Quotes , Pleasure Quotes

I thought I could not breathe in that fine air That pure severity of perfect light I yearned for warmth and colour which I found In Lancelot.

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Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.

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I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley.

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To love one maiden only, cleave to her, And worship her by years of noble deeds, Until they won her; for indeed I knew Of no more subtle master under heaven Than is the maiden passion for a maid, Not only to keep down the base in man, But teach high thought, and aimable words And courtliness, and the desire of fame, And love of truth, and all that makes man.

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Silence, beautiful voice.

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Nor is he the wisest man who never proved himself a fool.

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Gone - flitted away, Taken the stars from the night and the sun From the day! Gone, and a cloud in my heart.

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Gorgonised me from head to foot With a stony British stare.

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God's finger touched him, and he slept.

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How dull it is to pause, to make an end, to rust unburnished, not to shine in use! As though to breathe were life.

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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.

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Tags : Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes , Hate Quotes , Self Quotes

There is no land like England, Where'er the light of day be; There are no hearts like English hearts, Such hearts of oak as they be; There is no land like England, Where'er the light of day be: There are no men like Englishmen, So tall and bold as they be! And these will strike for England, And man and maid be free To foil and spoil the tyrant Beneath the greenwood tree.

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More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.

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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.

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Tags : Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes , Friendship Quotes , Justice Quotes