266 ordspråk av Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Once he drew-with one long kiss- My whole soul through his lips.
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One God, one law, one element,/ And one far-off divine event,/ To which the whole creation moves.
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Only reapers, reaping early/ In among the bearded barley.
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Other's follies teach us not nor much their wisdom teaches; and most, of sterling worth, is what our own experience preaches
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Our echoes roll from soul to soul,/ And grow for ever and for ever.
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Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great.
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Our island home/ Is far beyond the wave; we will no longer roam.
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Our little systems have their day;/ They have their day and cease to be.
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Our loyal passion for our temperate kings.
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Our Playwright may show/ In some fifth Act what this wild drama means.
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Ours not to reason why Ours but to do and die.
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Peace; come away: we do him wrong/ To sing so wildly: let us go.
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Pray God our greatness may not fail/ Thro' craven fears of being great.
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Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls.
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Revolts, republics, revolutions, most/ No graver than a schoolboy's barring out.
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