Alfred Lord Tennyson Flower Quotes & Sayings

A simple maiden in her flower, Is worth a hundred coats of arms. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

Four grey walls, and four grey towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

If Nature put not forth her power About the opening of the flower, Who is it that could live an hour? — Alfred Lord Tennyson

Once in a golden hour, I cast to earth a seed, And up there grew a flower, That others called a weed. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

There has fallen a splendid tear
From the passion-flower at the gate.
She is coming, my dove, my dear;
She is coming, my life, my fate;
The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;"
And the white rose weeps, "She is late;"
The larkspur listens, "I hear; I hear;"
And the lily whispers, "I wait." — Alfred Lord Tennyson

Ah! well away! Seasons flower and fade. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

Lo! sweeten'd with the summer light,
The full-juiced apple, waxing over-mellow,
Drops in a silent autumn night.
All its allotted length of days
The flower ripens in its place,
Ripens and fades, and falls, and hath no toil,
Fast-rooted in the fruitful soil. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

Read my little fable: He that runs may read. Most can raise the flowers now, For all have got the seed. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

What the sunshine is to the flower, the Lord Jesus Christ is to my soul. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

Wearing all that weight Of learning lightly like a flower. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

The white flower of a blameless life. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

If I had a flower for every time I thought of you ... I could walk through my garden forever. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

Wearing the white flower of a blameless life, Before a thousand peering littlenesses, In that fierce light which beats upon a throne, And blackens every blot. — Alfred Lord Tennyson

Tis a morning pure and sweet, And a dewy splendour falls On the little flower that clings To the turrets and the walls; 'Tis a morning pure and sweet, And the light and shadow fleet; She is walking in the meadow, And the woodland echo rings; In a moment we shall meet; She is singing in the meadow, And the rivulet at her feet Ripples on in light and shadow To the ballad that she sings. — 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, all in all,
I should know what God and man is. — Alfred Lord Tennyson