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...
Guard your roving thoughts with a jealous care, for speech is but the dealer of thoughts, and every fool can plainly read in your words what is the hour of your thoughts.
What hope of answer or redress?/ Behind the veil, behind the veil.
Man dreams of fame while woman wakes to love.
Man is the hunter; woman is his game. The sleek and shining creatures of the chase, we hunt them for the beauty of their skins; they love us for it, and we ride them down.
Make Thou my spirit pure and clear/ As are the frosty skies.
Love is of the valley, come thou down/ And find him.
Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control - these three alone lead to power
Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control - these three alone lead life to sovereign power.
So, friend, when I first looked upon your face, our thoughts gave answer each to each. Opposed mirrors each reflecting each, although I knew not in what time or place, methought that I had often met with you, and each had lived in other's mind and speech.
Old men must die, or the word would grow moldy, would only breed the past again
O mighty-mouthed inventor of harmonies,/ O skilled to sing of Time or Eternity,/ God-gifted organ voice of England,/ Milton, a name to resound for ages.
O love, O fire! once he drewWith one long kiss my whole soul throughMy lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.
She has heard a whisper say,/ A curse is on her if she stay/ To look down to Camelot.
Sink me the ship, Master Gunner - sink her, split her in twain!/ Fall into the hands of God, not into the hands of Spain!
Music that gentler on the spirit lies- Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes
Maybe the wildest dreams are but the needful preludes of the truth.
News from the humming city comes to it/ In sound of funeral or of marriage bells.
Revolts, republics, revolutions, most/ No graver than a schoolboy's barring out.
On one side lay the Ocean, and on one/ Lay a great water, and the moon was full.
Only reapers, reaping early/ In among the bearded barley.
On the bald street breaks the blank day.
I have fought for Queen and Faith like a valiant man and true;/ I have only done my duty as a man is bound to do.
I am a part of all that I have seen.
I am a part of all that I have met; yet all experience is an arch wherethrough gleams that untravelled world whose margin fades for ever and for ever when I move.
I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades Forever and forever when I move
I am shamed thro' all my nature to have loved so slight a thing.
But what am I?/ An infant crying in the night:/ An infant crying for the light:/ And with no language but a cry.
Fresh from brawling courts/ And dusty purlieus of the law.
From the great deep to the great deep he goes.
For 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?/ For so the whole round earth is every way/ Bound by gold chains
Forward the Light Brigade! Was there a man dismay'd? Not tho' the soldier knew Someone had blunder'd: Their's not to make reply, Their's not to reason why, Their's but to do and die; Into the valley of death, Rode the six hundred, Cannon to right
Forward, forward let us range, Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change
God gives us love. Something to love/ He lends us; but, when love is grown/ To ripeness that on which it throve/ Falls off, and love is left alone.
If thou shouldst never see my face again, pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of.
He never sold the truth to serve the hour, nor paltered with Eternal God for power.
Here at the quiet limit of the world,/ A white-haired shadow roaming like a dream/ The ever-silent spaces of the East.
Her tears fell with the dews at even;/ Her tears fell ere the dews were dried.
Go not, happy day,/ From the shining fields,/ Go not, happy day,/ Till the maiden yields.
God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world before?
God make thee good as thou art beautiful.
God made the woman for the man,/ And for the good and increase of the world.
God made Himself an awful rose of dawn.
He seems so near and yet so far.
Half light, half shade,/ She stood, a sight to make an old man young.
Jewels five-words long/ That on the stretched forefinger of all Time/ Sparkle for ever.
Our island home/ Is far beyond the wave; we will no longer roam.
Other's follies teach us not nor much their wisdom teaches; and most, of sterling worth, is what our own experience preaches
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out wild bells and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the want, the care, the sin,/ The faithless coldness of the times.
Ring out the thousand wars of old,/ Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,/ Ring in redress to all mankind.
Ring out false pride in blood and place,/ The civic slander and the spite.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,/ And ancient forms of party strife;/ Ring in the nobler modes of life,/ With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring in the love of truth and right,Ring in the common love of good.
Ringed with the azure world, he stands./ The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;/ He watches from his mountain walls,/ And like a thunderbolt he falls.
Our Playwright may show/ In some fifth Act what this wild drama means.
Peace; come away: we do him wrong/ To sing so wildly: let us go.
Our little systems have their day;/ They have their day and cease to be.
Someone had blundered:/ Theirs not to make reply,/ Theirs not to reason why,/ Theirs but to do and die.
That eternal want of pence/ Which vexes public men.
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.
My strength has the strength of ten because my heart is pure.
My purpose holds/ To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths/ Of all the western stars, until I die./ It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;/ It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles/ And see the great Achilles.
My regret/ Becomes an April violet,/ And buds and blossoms like the rest.
Locksley Hall Like a dog, he hunts in dreams
Locksley Hall He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse
Live and lie reclined/ On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind.
I wind about, and in and out,/ With here a blossom sailing,/ And here and there a lusty trout,/ And here and there a grayling.
I will take some savage woman, she shall rear my savage race.
Manners are not idle, but the fruit. Of loyal nature and of noble mind.
Who loves not a false imagining, an unreal character in us; but looking through all the rubbish of our imperfections, loves in us the divine ideal of our natures - not the man that we are, but the angel that we may be.
We have children, we have wives,/ And the Lord hath spared our lives./ We will make the Spaniard promise, if we yield, to let us go;/ We shall live to fight again and to strike another blow.
Time driveth onward fast,/ And in a little while our lips are dumb./ Let us alone. What is it that will last?/ All things are taken from us, and become/ Portions and parcels of the dreadful Past.
Time, a maniac scattering dust,/ And Life, a Fury slinging flame.
Till the war-drum throbbed no longer, and the battle-flags were furled/ In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the world.
Tho'/ We are not now that strength that in old days/ Moved earth and heaven: that which we are, we are;/ One equal temper of heroic hearts,/ Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will/ To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Tis the little rift within the lute - That by and by will make the music mute, And, ever widening, slowly silence all
There is more faith in an honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds
Upon the middle of the night./ Waking she heard the night-fowl crow.
Who trusted God was love indeed And love Creation's final law - Tho' Nature, red in tooth and claw With ravine, shriek'd against his creed
But the jingling of the guinea helps the hurt that Honor feels
To do him any wrong was to beget a kindness from him, for his heart was rich - of such fine mould that if you sowed therein the seed of hate, it blossomed charity.
To-night the winds begin to rise/ And roar from yonder dropping day:/ The last red leaf is whirled away,/ The rooks are blown about the skies.
This way and that dividing the swift mind.
This truth within thy mind rehearse,/ That in a boundless universe/ Is boundless better, boundless worse.
Vex not thou the poet's mind With thy shallow wit: Vex not thou the poet's mind; For thou canst not fathom it
Science moves, but slowly, slowly, creeping on from point to point.
All things have rest: why should we toil alone, We only toil, who are the first of things.
Food over flame burns, food over heat cooks
O hard, when love and duty clash!
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The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist.
A life that moves to gracious ends
Thro' troops of unrecording friends,
A deedful life, a silent voice.
He promoted the education of the parish clergy and wrote: He seems to me a very foolish man, and very wretched, who will not increase his understanding while he is in the world, and ever wish and long to reach that endless life where all shall be made clear.
Ah, why should life all labor be?
...For the unquiet heart and brain,
A use in measured language lies.
The vow that binds too quickly snaps itself.
The greater the man the greater the courtesy.
When the Sun Clearest shineth Serenest in the heaven, Quickly are obscured All over the earth Other stars.
Time [is] flowing in the middle of the night.