Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams? — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
I will love thee to the death, And out beyond into the dream to come. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Shape your heart to front the hour, but dream not that the hours will last. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
The dream Dreamed by a happy man, when the dark East, Unseen, is brightening to his bridal morn. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
For I dipped into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Come, Time, and teach me many years, I do not suffer in dream; For now so strange do these things seem, Mine… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
“On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; And… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Are God and Nature then at strife, That Nature lends such evil dreams? So careful of the type she seems, So careless… — 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
