There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
All is well, tho' faith and form Be sunder'd in the night of fear. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
We are self-uncertain creatures, and we may Yea, even when we know not, mix our spites And private hates with our defence… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Cricket, however, has more in it than mere efficiency. There is something called the spirit of cricket, which cannot be defined. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
And this gray spirit yearning in desire To follow knowledge like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
“Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tir'd eyelids upon tir'd eyes; Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace;Sleep, holy spirit, blessed soul,While the stars burn, the moons increase,And the great ages onward roll. Sleep… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
I falter where I firmly trod, And falling with my weight of cares Upon the great world's altar-stairs That slope thro' darkness… — 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
