Tennyson Quotes I Am Part of All I Have Met Art Drawongs
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Bartlett'due south Familiar Quotations |
A Collection of Passages, Phrases, and Proverbs Traced to Their Sources in Aboriginal and Modern Literature |
The post-obit 99 quotes match your criteria:
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
And statesmen at her council met Who knew the seasons, when to take Occasion past the hand, and make The bounds of freedom wider however. |
To the Queen. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
For it was in the gilded prime Of good Haroun Alraschid. |
Recollections of the Arabian Nights. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
A still small voice spake unto me, "Thou art so full of misery, Were it non better not to be?" |
The Two Voices. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
This truth within thy heed rehearse, That in a dizzying universe Is boundless ameliorate, dizzying worse. |
The Ii Voices. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
No life that breathes with man jiff Has e'er truly longed for expiry. |
The Two Voices. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Self-reverence, self-knowledge, cocky-control,— These three lone lead life to sovereign power. |
Œnone. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Because right is correct, to follow right Were wisdom in the contemptuousness of effect. |
Œnone. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
I built my soul a lordly pleasure-house, Wherein at ease for aye to dwell. |
The Palace of Art. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Her manners had not that repose Which stamps the caste of Vere de Vere. |
Lady Clara Vere de Vere. Stanza 5. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
From yon blueish heaven above usa aptitude, The grand one-time gardener and his married woman |
Lady Clara Vere de Vere. Stanza 7. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 'T is only noble to be adept. |
Lady Clara Vere de Vere. Stanza 7. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
You lot must wake and call me early, call me early, female parent dearest; To-morrow'll be the happiest time of all the glad New Year,— Of all the glad New year, mother, the maddest, merriest day; For I 'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I |
The May Queen. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
A girl of the gods, divinely tall, And most divinely fair. |
A Dream of fair Women. Stanza xxii. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
God gives us dear. Something to love He lends united states; but when love is grown To ripeness, that on which information technology throve Falls off, and love is left alone. |
To J. S. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace! Slumber, holy spirit, blessed soul, While the stars burn, the moons increase, And the great ages onward ringlet. |
To J. S. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Sleep till the finish, truthful soul and sweet! Nothing comes to thee new or strange. Slumber full of residual from head to feet; Lie still, dry dust, secure of alter. |
To J. S. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Of love that never establish his earthly close, What sequel? Streaming eyes and breaking hearts; Or withal as if he had not been? |
Love and Duty. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
The long mechanic pacings to and fro, The set, grayness life, and apathetic end. |
Beloved and Duty. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Ah, when shall all men's good Be each man'due south dominion, and universal peace Lie like a shaft of low-cal across the land, And like a lane of beams angular the bounding main, Thro' all the circle of the golden year? |
The gold Year. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
How dull it is to interruption, to make an end, To rust unburnished, not to shine in apply,— As tho' to breathe were life! |
Ulysses. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Much have I seen and known; cities of men And manners, climates, councils, governments; And much delight of battle with my peers Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy. |
Ulysses. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
It may be nosotros shall impact the Happy Isles, And run across the keen Achilles whom we knew. |
Ulysses. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
In the spring a livelier iris changes on the burnished pigeon; In the bound a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love. |
Locksley Hall. Line nineteen. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Love took upward 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. |
Locksley Hall. Line 33. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his canis familiaris, a fiddling dearer than his horse. |
Locksley Hall. Line 49. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
This is truth the poet sings, That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things. |
Locksley Hall. Line 75. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
With a little hoard of maxims preaching down a girl's heart. |
Locksley Hall. Line 94. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
But the jingling of the guinea helps the hurt that Honour feels. |
Locksley Hall. Line 105. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Men, my brothers, men the workers, always reaping something new. |
Locksley Hall. Line 117. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Yet I dubiousness not through the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns. |
Locksley Hall. Line 137. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Permit the swell world spin forever down the ringing grooves of change. |
Locksley Hall. Line 182. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
And on her lover's arm she leant, And round her waist she felt it fold, And far across the hills they went In that new earth which is the former. |
The 24-hour interval-Dream. The Departure, i. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
And o'er the hills, and far away Beyond their utmost royal rim, Across the night, across the day, Thro' all the world she followed him. |
The Day-Dream. The Departure, i. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
As she fled fast through sun and shade The happy winds upon her played, Blowing the ringlet from the braid. |
Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
For at present the poet tin can not die, Nor leave his music as of old, Only round him ere he deficient be cold Begins the scandal and the cry. |
To ———, later on reading a Life and Letters. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
But oh for the affect of a vanished hand, And the audio of a phonation that is withal! |
Break, interruption, break. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
But the tender grace of a day that is dead Volition never come up dorsum to me. |
Pause, break, interruption. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Mastering the lawless science of our constabulary,— That codeless myriad of precedent, That wilderness of single instances. |
Aylmer'southward Field. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Rich in saving mutual-sense, And, as the greatest just are, In his simplicity sublime. |
Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington. Stanza 4. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Oh good gray head which all men knew! |
Ode on the Expiry of the Duke of Wellington. Stanza 4. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
That tower of strength Which stood four-square to all the winds that blew. |
Ode on the Decease of the Knuckles of Wellington. Stanza 4. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
For this is England'south greatest son, He that gained a hundred fights, And never lost an English gun. |
Ode on the Expiry of the Duke of Wellington. Stanza half dozen. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Not once or twice in our rough-island story The path of duty was the way to glory. |
Ode on the Death of the Knuckles of Wellington. Stanza 8. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
All in the valley of death Rode the six hundred. |
The Charge of the Calorie-free Brigade. Stanza 1. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Some one had blundered: Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to practice and die. |
The Charge of the Light Brigade. Stanza 2. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front end of them. . . . . . Into the jaws of death, |
The Charge of the Light Brigade. Stanza 3. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
That a lie which is one-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. |
The Grandmother. Stanza eight. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
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! |
The Daisy. Stanza 1. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
With prudes for proctors, dowagers for deans, And sweet girl-graduates in their golden hair. |
The Princess. Prologue. Line 141. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
A rosebud ready with petty wilful thorns, And sweet as English air could make her, she. |
The Princess. Part i. Line 153. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Jewels five-words-long, That on the stretched forefinger of all Time Sparkle forever. |
The Princess. Part ii. Line 355. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Blow, bugle, accident! set up the wild echoes flying! Blow, bugle! answer, echoes! dying, dying, dying. |
The Princess. Part iii. Line 352. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
O Dearest! they dice in yon rich heaven, They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow forever and forever. Blow, bugle, blow! fix the wild echoes flying! And reply, echoes, answer! dyin |
The Princess. Part iii. Line 360. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean. Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the centre and assemble to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. |
The Princess. Office iv. Line 21. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Unto dying eyes The casement slowly grows a glimmering foursquare. |
The Princess. Office 4. Line 33. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Love as remembered kisses afterward decease, And sugariness as those by hopeless fancy feigned On lips that are for others; deep every bit dear,— Deep equally start dearest, and wild with all regret. Oh death in life, the days that are no more! |
The Princess. Part iv. Line 36. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Sweet is every sound, Sweeter thy voice, but every sound is sugariness; Myriads of rivulets hurrying thro' the lawn, The moan of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of innumerable bees. |
The Princess. Part 7. Line 203. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Happy he With such a mother! religion in womankind Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high Comes easy to him; and tho& |
The Princess. Part 7. Line 308. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
But for the unquiet eye and encephalon A use in measured language lies; The sorry mechanic exercise Like dull narcotics numbing pain. |
In Memoriam. v. Stanza 2. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Never morning wore To evening, but some heart did break. |
In Memoriam. vi. Stanza 2. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
And topples circular the dreary w A looming bastion fringed with fire. |
In Memoriam. xv. Stanza five. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
And from his ashes may exist made The violet of his native country. |
In Memoriam. xviii. Stanza 1. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
I do but sing because I must, And pipage but as the linnets sing. |
In Memoriam. xxi. Stanza 6. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
And Thought leapt out to wed with Thought Ere Thought could wed itself with Voice communication. |
In Memoriam. xxiii. Stanza iv. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
'T is better to take loved and lost Than never to accept loved at all. |
In Memoriam. xxvii. Stanza 4. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Whose organized religion has eye everywhere, Nor cares to gear up itself to course. |
In Memoriam. xxxiii. Stanza 1. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
My own dim life should teach me this That life shall live for evermore. |
In Memoriam. xxxiv. Stanza i. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Short swallow-flights of vocal, that dip Their wings in tears, and skim away. |
In Memoriam. xlviii. Stanza 4. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Hold thou the good; ascertain it well; For fear divine Philosophy Should push button beyond her marker, and be Procuress to the Lords of Hell. |
In Memoriam. liii. Stanza 4. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Oh yet nosotros trust that somehow expert Will be the final goal of sick. |
In Memoriam. liv. Stanza ane. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
Merely what am I? An infant crying in the night: An baby crying for the light, And with no linguistic communication but a cry. |
In Memoriam. liv. Stanza 5. |
Author: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
So careful of the blazon she seems, So devil-may-care of the single life. |
In Memoriam. lv. Stanza 2. |
Writer: Alfred Tennyson Tennyson |
The keen world's altar-stairs, That slope through darkness up to God. |
In Memoriam. lv. Stanza 4. |
Source: http://www.online-literature.com/quotes/quotation_search.php?author=Alfred%20Tennyson%20Tennyson
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