Quote #92
He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.
More from Alfred (Lord) Tennyson
- In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove; In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.
- Never, tho' my mortal summers to such length of years should come As the many-winter'd crow that leads the clanging rookery home.
- Comrades, leave me here a little, while as yet 'tis early morn: Leave me here, and when you want me, sound upon the bugle horn.
- I remember one that perish'd: sweetly did she speak and move: Such a one do I remember, whom to look at was to love.
- Out upon the wharfs they came, Knight and Burgher, Lord and Dame, And around the prow they read her name, The Lady of Shalott. Who is this?…
- Comfort? comfort scorn'd of devils! this is truth the poet sings, That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier things.
- Lying, robed in snowy white That loosely flew to left and right - The leaves upon her falling light - Thro' the noises of the night, She fl…
- Like a dog, he hunts in dreams, and thou art staring at the wall, Where the dying night-lamp flickers, and the shadows rise and fall.