And o'er the hills, and far away Beyond their utmost purple rim, Beyond the night, across the day, Thro' all the world… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
The woods decay, the woods decay and fall, The vapours weep their burthen to the ground, Man comes and tills the field… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
For I dipped into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
“The old order changeth, yielding place to new, And God fulfils Himself in many ways, Lest one good custom should corrupt the… — 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
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, Tis not too late… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Not wholly in the busy world, nor quite Beyond it, blooms the garden that I love. News from the humming city comes… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Nature is one with rapine, a harm no preacher can heal; The Mayfly is torn by the swallow, the sparrow speared by… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
This world was once a fluid haze of light, Till toward the centre set the starry tides, And eddied into suns, that… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
If thou shouldst never see my face again, pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
All experience is an arch wherethrough gleams that untravelled world whose margin fades for ever and for ever when I move. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of: Wherefore, let they voice, Rise like a… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Come, my friends Tis not too late to seek a newer world Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Shall eagles not be eagles? wrens be wrens? If all the world were falcons, what of that? The wonder of the eagle… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
The world which credits what is done is cold to all that might have been. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and I linger on the shore, And the individual withers, and the world is more and more. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
The old order changeth yielding place to new And God fulfills himself in many ways Lest one good custom should corrupt the… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
All experience is an arch wherethro' gleams that untraveled world whose margins fade forever and forever as we move. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Old men must die, or the world would grow mouldy, would only breed the past again. — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
Live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind. For they lie beside their nectar, and the bolts… — Alfred Lord Tennyson Copy Share Image
. . . More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore let thy voice Rise like a fountain… — 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
