Quotes
Quotes - Tennyson
The long mechanic pacings to and fro,
The set, gray life, and apathetic end.
Ah, when shall all men's good
Be each man's rule, and universal peace
Lie like a shaft of light across the land,
And like a lane of beams athwart the sea,
Thro' all the circle of the golden year?
I am a part of all that I have met.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use,--
As tho' to breathe were life!
Much have I seen and known; cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments;
And much delight of battle with my peers
Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles whom we knew.
Here at the quiet limit of the world.
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.
Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might;
Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.
He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force,
Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.
This is truth the poet sings,
That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things.
Like a dog, he hunts in dreams.
With a little hoard of maxims preaching down a daughter's heart.
But the jingling of the guinea helps the hurt that Honour feels.
Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new.
Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs,
And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns.
Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.
I will take some savage woman, she shall rear my dusky race.
I, the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time.
Let the great world spin forever down the ringing grooves of change.
Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.
And on her lover's arm she leant,
And round her waist she felt it fold,
And far across the hills they went
In that new world which is the old.
And o'er the hills, and far away
Beyond their utmost purple rim,
Beyond the night, across the day,
Thro' all the world she followed him.
We are ancients of the earth,
And in the morning of the times.
As she fled fast through sun and shade
The happy winds upon her played,
Blowing the ringlet from the braid.
