Alfred Lord Tennyson Quotes

A collection of quotes by Alfred Lord Tennyson.

Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892) was a renowned British poet born in Lincolnshire, England. Considered one of the most important figures in Victorian poetry, Tennyson's work captured the spirit and sentiments of the era. He was widely regarded as the Poet Laureate of his time.

Tennyson's literary career began at a young age when his poems were published in various magazines. His breakthrough came with the publication of his collection, "Poems" in 1830. The volume received mixed reviews initially but gained substantial acclaim over time. Tennyson's poetic style showcased a keen sense of melody, rich imagery, and a mastery of verse.

Throughout his career, Tennyson produced several notable works, including "The Lady of Shalott," "Ulysses," "Maud," and "In Memoriam A.H.H." His poems often explored themes of love, loss, nature, mortality, and the human condition. Tennyson's writing was characterized by its elegance, vivid imagery, and evocative language, which attracted a wide readership.

In 1850, Tennyson succeeded William Wordsworth as the Poet Laureate of the United Kingdom. He held this prestigious position until his death, producing a number of official compositions for important national events. Tennyson's poetic influence extended far beyond his lifetime, and his works continue to be studied, analyzed, and celebrated for their beauty and depth.

It little profits that an idle king,By this still hearth, among these barren crags,Matchd with an aged wife, I mete and doleUnequal laws unto a savage race,That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me. I cannot rest from travel; I will drinkLife to the lees. All times I have enjoydGreatly, have sufferd greatly, both with thoseThat loved me, and alone; on shore, and whenThro scudding drifts the rainy HyadesVext the dim sea. I am become a name;For always roaming with a hungry heartMuch have I seen and known,cities of menAnd manners, climates, councils, governments,Myself not least, but honord of them all,And drunk delight of battle with my peers,Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy. I am a part of all that I have met;Yet all experience is an arch wherethroGleams that untravelld world whose margin fadesFor ever and for ever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end,To rust unburnishd, not to shine in use!As tho to breathe were life! Life piled on lifeWere all too little, and of one to meLittle remains; but every hour is savedFrom that eternal silence, something more,A bringer of new things; and vile it wereFor some three suns to store and hoard myself,And this gray spirit yearning in desireTo follow knowledge like a sinking star,Beyond the utmost bound of human thought. It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho much is taken, much abides; and thoWe are not now that strength which in old daysMoved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,One equal temper of heroic hearts,Made weak by time and fate, but strong in willTo strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Alfred Lord Tennyson