As she fled fast through sun and shade The happy winds upon her play'd, Blowing the ringlet from the braid. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Of happy men that have the power to die, And grassy barrows of the happier dead. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
“The happiness of a man in this life does not consist in the absence but on the mastery of his passions.” — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles whom we knew. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
A man had given all other bliss, And all his worldly worth for this To waste his whole heart in one kiss… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Hope Smiles from the threshold of the year to come, Whispering 'it will be happier'... — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Happy he With such a mother! faith in womankind Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high Comes easy to… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Whate'er thy joys, they vanish with the day: Whate'er thy griefs, in sleep they fade away, To sleep! to sleep! Sleep, mournful… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
I am going a long way With these thou seëst-if indeed I go (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt)-… — 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
