Quotes from Alfred Lord Tennyson

I must lose myself in action, lest I wither in despair.

The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.

There's no glory like those who save their country.

O earth, what changes hast thou seen!

God gives us love! Something to love He lends us; but when love is grown To ripeness, that on which it throve Falls off, and love is left alone: This is the curse of time.

A day may sink or save a realm.

And out of darkness came the hands that reach thro' nature, moulding men.

Believe me, than in half the creeds.

Words, like nature, half reveal and half conceal the soul within.

Guard your roving thoughts with a jealous care, for speech is but the dealer of thoughts, and every fool can plainly read in your words what is the hour of your thoughts.

Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control; these three alone lead life to sovereign power.

The time draws near the birth of Christ; The moon is hid; the night is still; The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist.

I the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time.

Every moment dies a man, Every moment one is born.

All experience is an arch wherethrough gleams that untravelled world whose margin fades for ever and for ever when I move.

Tis not too late to seek a newer world.

A sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier times.

Here about the beach I wandered, nourishing a youth sublime With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time.

That which we are, we are, and if we are ever to be any better, now is the time to begin.

O mighty-mouthed inventor of harmonies, O skilled to sing of Time or Eternity, God-gifted organ-voice of England, Milton, a name to resound for ages.

Name and fame! to fly sublime Through the courts, the camps, the schools Is to be the ball of Time, Bandied in the hands of fools.

Come, Time, and teach me many years, I do not suffer in dream; For now so strange do these things seem, Mine eyes have leisure for their tears.

Jewels five-words-long, That on the stretch'd forefinger of all Time Sparkle forever.

In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove; In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.