There is more faith in an honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds — 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
He never sold the truth to serve the hour, nor paltered with Eternal God for power. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
This truth within thy mind rehearse, That in a boundless universe Is boundless better, boundless worse. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright, But a lie which is part a… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
I hold it truth, with him who sings To one clear harp in divers tones, That men may rise on stepping-stones Of… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Oh for someone with a heart, head and hand. Whatever they call them, what do I care, aristocrat, democrat, autocrat, just be… — 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
