Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land; Ring in… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
And so the Word had breath, and wrought With human hands the creed of creeds In loveliness of perfect deeds, More strong… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
The time draws near the birth of Christ; The moon is hid; the night is still; The Christmas bells from hill to… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Follow the deer? Follow the Christ the King. Live pure, speak true,right wrong, Follow the King-- Else, wherefore born? — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
What the sunshine is to the flower, the Lord Jesus Christ is to my soul. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Strong Son of God, immortal Love, Whom we, that have not seen thy face, By faith, and faith alone, embrace, Believing where… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
But the churchmen fain would kill their church, As the churches have kill'd their Christ. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Faith and unfaith can ne'er be equal powers; Unfaith is aught is want of faith in all. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
The still affection of the heart Became an outward breathing type, That into stillness past again, And left a want unknown before; Although the… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
I do but sing because I must; and pipe but as the linnets sing. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Here about the beach I wandered, nourishing a youth sublime With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
So now I have sworn to bury All this dead body of hate I feel so free and so clear By the loss of… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
If Nature put not forth her power About the opening of the flower, Who is it that could live an hour? — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
