Alfred Tennyson, renowned as “the poet of science,” has been extensively studied for his engagement with contemporary scientific ideas. Scholars often highlighted how his radical embrace of new scientific discoveries led him to reinterpret them in ways that reconciled with his religious beliefs. This essay examines how Tennyson’s interaction with geology in “Locksley Hall Sixty Years After,” a sequel to “Locksley Hall,” reflects this pattern of doubt and consolation—but with a twist of the poet’s more resigned adherence to scientific principles by the end of the nineteenth century. Compared to the optimistic imperialist vision of “Locksley Hall,” the speaker in the later work grapples with the disillusionment of aging and the decline of empire. Rather than seeking spiritual transcendence, the poem presents the speaker"s struggle to envision a geological future through the lens of Charles Lyell’s uniformitarianism. Despite his efforts to deduce a plausible vision of the future based on present phenomena, the aged speaker vacillates between a sense of Earth’s imminent decline and its future promises. This impasse is addressed through a multi-dimensional transformation of Earth: as a distant planet seen from Venus, a boundless heaven perceived by human sense, and an atom imagined to contain infinite energy. The essay argues that this poem showcases the speaker’s partially resigned yet committed engagement with scientific inquiry, which ultimately concludes with the recognition that the universe’s boundlessness reasserts the limitations of human knowledge. In the end, the speaker reconciles science with his nostalgic hope by accepting the probabilistic nature of social science and entrusting the future to God’s divine game.