Forgive How many will say, forgive, and find; A sort of absolution in the sound; To hate a little longer.
More Quotes from Alfred Lord Tennyson:
That loss is common would not make My own less bitter, rather more, Too common.Alfred Lord Tennyson
Our Playwright may show; In some fifth Act what this wild drama means.
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'.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Not the schoolboy heat, The blind hysterics of the Celt.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Let us hob-and-nob with Death.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Believe me, than in half the creeds.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
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