Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson

Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.

— Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson

Rise, happy morn, rise, holy morn; Draw forth the cheerful day from night; O Father, touch the east, and light The light that shone when Hope was born.

— Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson

. . . in my breast Spring wakens too, and my regret Becomes an April violet, And buds and blossoms like the rest.

— Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson

Summer is coming, summer is coming. I know it, I know it, I know it. Light again, leaf again, life again, love again, Yes, my wild little Poet.

— Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson

The air is damp, and hushed, and close, As a sick man's room when he taketh repose An hour before death; My very heart faints and my whole soul grieves At the moist rich smell of the rotting leaves.

— Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson

Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.

— Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson

The frost is here, And fuel is dear, And woods are sear, And fires burn clear, And frost is here And has bitten the heel of the going year.

— Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson

We fell out, my wife and I, O we fell out I know not why, And kissed again with tears. And blessings on the falling out That all the more endears, When we fall out with those we love And kiss again with tears!

— Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson

I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it when I sorrow most; 'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.

— Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson