Dowered with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
I loved you, and my love had no return, And therefore my true love has been my death. — 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
Who trusted God was love indeed And love Creation's final law Though Nature, red in tooth and claw With ravine, shrieked against… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
As love, if love be perfect, casts out fear, so hate, if hate be perfect, casts out fear. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
To me He is all fault who hath no fault at all: For who loves me must have a touch of earth. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
All precious things, discover'd late, To those that seek them issue forth, For love in sequel works with fate, And draws the… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
O love, O fire! once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul through My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
God gives us love. Something to love He lends us; but when love is grown To ripeness, that on which it throve… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
What! I should call on that Infinite Love that has served us so well? Infinite cruelty rather, that made everlasting hell, Made… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Love lieth deep; Love dwells not in lip-depths; Love laps his wings on either side the heart Absorbing all the incense of… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
O Love! they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
In time there is no present, In eternity no future, In eternity no past. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Love's too precious to be lost, A little grain shall not be spilt. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Sweet is true love that is given in vain, and sweet is death that takes away pain. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
My doom is, I love thee still. Let no man dream but that I love thee still. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
And Thought leapt out to wed with Thought Ere Thought could wed itself with Speech. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
“I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it when I sorrow most; 'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
O Love! what hours were thine and mine, In lands of palm and southern pine; In lands of palm, of orange-blossom, Of… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling,… — 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
There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share
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
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
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
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
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
As the husband is the wife is; thou art mated with a clown, As the grossness of his nature will have weight to drag… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share
Thou madest man, he knows not why, he thinks he was not made to die. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share
