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Lead out the pageant: sad and slow,
As fits an universal woe,
Let the long, long procession go,
And let the sorrowing crowd about it grow,
And let the mournful martial music blow;
The last great Englishman is low.

— Alfred, Lord Tennyson Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington (1852)

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More quotes by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath,
And after many a summer dies the swan.

Acting the law we live by without fear;
And, because right is right, to follow right
Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.

Where love could walk with banish'd Hope no more.

The Lover's Tale (1879)

Love lieth deep; Love dwells not in lip-depths.

The Lover's Tale (1879)

Thou that singest wheat and woodland, tilth and vineyard, hive and horse and herd;
All the charm of all the Muses often flowering in a lonely word.

All Alfred, Lord Tennyson quotes →

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Alfred, Lord Tennyson (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.