Sweet were the days when I was all unknown, But when my name was lifted up, the storm Brake on the mountain… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
There twice a day the Severn fills; The salt sea-water passes by, And hushes half the babbling Wye, And makes a silence… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
I can't sleep without knowing there's hope. Half the night I waste in sighs. In a wakeful doze I sorrow. For the… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Words, like nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
I sometimes hold it half a sin To put in words the grief I feel For words, like nature, half reveal And… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
On all things created remaineth the half-effaced signature of God, Somewhat of fair and good, though blotted by the finger of corruption. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
The parting of a husband and wife is like the cleaving of a heart; one half will flutter here, one there. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. — 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
