Alfred, Lord Tennyson - Man Quotes

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Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land;
Ring in the Christ that is to be.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Flower in the crannied wall,
I pluck you out of the crannies,
I hold you here, root and all, in my hand,
Little flower — but if I could understand
What you are, root and all, and all in all,
I should know what God and man is.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Man…
Who trusted God was love indeed
And love Creation's final law—
Though Nature, red in tooth and claw
With ravine, shrieked against his creed.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
The woods decay, the woods decay and fall,
The vapours weep their burthen to the ground,
Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath,
And after many a summer dies the swan.
Me only cruel immortality
Consumes: I wither slowly in thine arms,
Here at the quiet limit of the world,
A white-hair'd shadow roaming like a dream
The ever-silent spaces of the East,
Far-folded mists, and gleaming halls of morn.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Fill the cup, and fill the can: Have a rouse before the morn: Every moment dies a man, Every moment one is born.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
The dream Dreamed by a happy man, when the dark East, Unseen, is brightening to his bridal morn.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Woman is the lesser man, and all thy passions, match'd with mine, Are as moonlight unto sunlight, and as water unto wine.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
I salute thee, Mantovano,
I that loved thee since my day began,
Wielder of the stateliest measure
Ever moulded by the lips of man.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of death
Rode the six hundred.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Many an aeon moulded earth before her highest, man, was born, Many an aeon too may pass when earth is manless and forlorn, Earth so huge and yet so bounded — pools of salt and plots of land — Shallow skin of green and azure — chains of mountains, grains of sand!

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
In the spring a livelier iris changes on the burnished dove;
In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
There was no blood upon her maiden robes
Sunn'd by those orient skies;
But round about the circles of the globes
Of her keen
And in her raiment's hem was traced in flame
WISDOM, a name to shake
All evil dreams of power — a sacred name.
And when she spake,
Her words did gather thunder as they ran,
And as the lightning to the thunder
Which follows it, riving the spirit of man,
Making earth wonder,
So was their meaning to her words. No sword
Of wrath her right arm whirl'd,
But one poor poet's scroll, and with his word
She shook the world.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
I came in haste with cursing breath, And heart of hardest steel; But when I saw thee cold in death, I felt as man should feel. For when I look upon that face, That cold, unheeding, frigid brown, Where neither rage nor fear has place, By Heaven! I cannot hate thee now!

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
A princelier-looking man never stept thro' a prince's hall.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Half light, half shade,
She stood, a sight to make an old man young.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
There is no land like England,
Where'er the light of day be;
There are no hearts like English hearts,
Such hearts of oak as they be;
There is no land like England,
Where'er the light of day be:
There are no men like Englishmen,
So tall and bold as they be!
And these will strike for England,
And man and maid be free
To foil and spoil the tyrant
Beneath the greenwood tree.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
To love one maiden only, cleave to her, And worship her by years of noble deeds, Until they won her; for indeed I knew Of no more subtle master under heaven Than is the maiden passion for a maid, Not only to keep down the base in man, But teach high thought, and aimable words And courtliness, and the desire of fame, And love of truth, and all that makes man.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Any man that walks the mead
In bud, or blade, or bloom, may find,
According as his humors lead,
A meaning suited to his mind.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Robin: No man who truly loves and truly rules
His following but can keep his followers true.
I am one with mine. Traitors are rarely bred
Save under traitor kings.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Let me go: take back thy gift: Why should a man desire in any way To vary from the kindly race of men, Or pass beyond the goal of ordinance Where all should pause, as is most meet for all?...Why wilt thou ever scare me with thy tears, And make me tremble lest a saying learnt, In days far-off, on that dark earth, be true? 'The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.' - Tithonus

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismayed?
Not though the soldier knew
Some one had blundered:
Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volleyed and thundered.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
The woman's cause is man's. They rise or sink Together. / Dwarf'd or godlike, bound or free; miserable, / How shall men grow? - Let her be / All that not harms distinctive womanhood.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Nor is he the wisest man who never proved himself a fool.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Thou madest man, he knows not why, he thinks he was not made to die.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
And ah for a man to arise in me,
That the man I am may cease to be!

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Yet is there one true line, the pearl of pearls:
Man dreams of Fame while woman wakes to love.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Then Some One Spake: "Behold! it was a crime
Of sense avenged by sense that wore with time."
Another Said: "The crime of sense became
The crime of malice, and is equal blame."
And One: "He had not wholly quench'd his power;
A little grain of conscience made him sour."
At last I heard a voice upon the slope
Cry to the summit, "Is there any hope?"
To which an answer peal'd from that high land,
But in a tongue no man could understand;
And on the glimmering limit far withdrawn
God made Himself an awful rose of dawn.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
She with all the charm of woman,
She with all the breadth of man.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
How many a father have I seen,
A sober man, among his boys,
Whose youth was full of foolish noise.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Every man at time of Death,
Would fain set forth some saying that may live
After his death and better humankind;
For death gives life's last word a power to live,
And, lie the stone-cut epitaph, remain
After the vanished voice, and speak to men.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson