You and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
N… - Alfred Tennyson
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You and I are old; Old age hath yet his honour and his toil; Death closes all: but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods. The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks, The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die.
English
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About
Alfred Tennyson
Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson (6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892) was the Poet Laureate of the United Kingdom during much of Queen Victoria's reign, after William Wordsworth, and is one of the most popular English poets.
Biography information from
Wikiquote·
Portrait adapted from
Wikimedia Commons, Julia Margaret Cameron / Adam Cuerden (Public domain / CC0)
Also Known As
Native Name:
Alfred Tennyson, 1. Baron Tennyson
Alternative Names:
Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson
•
Lord Alfred Tennyson
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Alcibiades
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A. Tennyson
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Alfred Tennyson, Baron Tennyson
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Alfred Tennyson Tennyson
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Tennyson
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1st Baron Tennyson of Aldworth and Freshwater Alfred Tennyson
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Alfred Tennyson d'Eyncourt
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Lord Tennyson Alfred
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Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Alfred, Lord Tennyson
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Alfred (Lord)
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Shorter versions of this quote
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks; The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs; the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends. 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die.
Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace: Sleep, holy spirit, blessed soul, While the stars burn, the moons increase, And the great ages onward roll. Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet. Nothing comes to thee new or strange. Sleep full of rest from head to feet; Lie still, dry dust, secure of change.
