Her manners had not that repose Which stamps the caste of Vere de Vere.
Lord Alfred Tennyson (1809 - 1892)
Source: Lady Clara Vere de Vere. Stanza 5.
Contributed by: Zaady
A still small voice spake unto me, 'Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?"
Source: The Two Voices, 1832
He never mocks, For mockery is the fume of little hearts.
Source: The Idylls of the King, Guinevere
Happy he With such a mother! faith in womankind Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high Comes easy to him; and tho' he trip and fall, He shall not blind his soul with clay.
Source: Line 308.
Nature, so far as in her lies, imitates God.
Their's not to reason why, Their's but to do and die...
Source: The Charge of the Light Brigade
Speak to Him thou for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet- Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.
Source: The Higher Pantheism
Because right is right, to follow right Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.
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.
Source: The Idylls of the King, The Dedication
Wearing all that weight Of learning lightly like a flower.
Source: Memoriam, 1850
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