266 ordspråk av Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Fresh from brawling courts/ And dusty purlieus of the law.
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From the great deep to the great deep he goes.
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Go not, happy day,/ From the shining fields,/ Go not, happy day,/ Till the maiden yields.
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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.
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God made Himself an awful rose of dawn.
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God made the woman for the man,/ And for the good and increase of the world.
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God make thee good as thou art beautiful.
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God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world before?
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God's finger touched him, and he slept.
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Great in council and great in war,/ Foremost captain of his time.
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Half a league, half a league,/ Half a league onward,/ All in the valley of Death/ Rode the six hundred.
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Half light, half shade,/ She stood, a sight to make an old man young.
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He clasps the crag with crooked hands; close to the sun in lonely lands, ringed with the azure world, he stands.
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He never sold the truth to serve the hour, nor paltered with Eternal God for power.
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He seems so near and yet so far.
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