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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:43:41 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/14094-0.txt b/14094-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a27ab1a --- /dev/null +++ b/14094-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3792 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14094 *** + +THE SUPPRESSED POEMS + +OF + +ALFRED LORD TENNYSON + +1830-1868 + + +Edited By J.C. Thomson + + + + +Contents + + +EDITOR'S NOTE + + +TIMBUCTOO + + +POEMS CHIEFLY LYRICAL + + i. The How and the Why + ii. The Burial of Love + iii. To ---- + iv. Song _'I' the gloaming light'_ + v. Song _'Every day hath its night'_ + vi. Hero to Leander + vii. The Mystic + viii. The Grasshopper + ix. Love, Pride and Forgetfulness + x. Chorus _'The varied earth, the moving heaven'_ + xi. Lost Hope + xii. The Tears of Heaven + xiii. Love and Sorrow + xiv. To a Lady sleeping + xv. Sonnet _'Could I outwear my present state of woe'_ + xvi. Sonnet _'Though night hath climbed'_ + xvii. Sonnet _'Shall the hag Evil die'_ +xviii. Sonnet _'The pallid thunder stricken sigh for gain'_ + xix. Love + xx. English War Song + xxi. National Song + xxii. Dualisms +xxiii. [Greek: ohi rheontes] + xxiv. Song _'The lintwhite and the throstlecock'_ + + +CONTRIBUTIONS TO PERIODICALS, 1831-32 + + xxv. A Fragment + xxvi. Anacreontics + xxvii. _'O sad no more! O sweet no more'_ +xxviii. Sonnet _'Check every outflash, every ruder sally'_ + xxix. Sonnet _'Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh'_ + xxx. Sonnet _'There are three things that fill my heart with sighs'_ + + +POEMS, 1833 + + xxxi. Sonnet _'Oh beauty, passing beauty'_ + xxxii. The Hesperides + xxxiii. Rosalind + xxxiv. Song _'Who can say'_ + xxxv. Sonnet _'Blow ye the trumpet, gather from afar'_ + xxxvi. O Darling Room + xxxvii. To Christopher North +xxxviii. The Lotos-Eaters + xxxix. A Dream of Fair Women + + +MISCELLANEOUS POEMS AND CONTRIBUTIONS TO PERIODICALS, 1833-68 + + xl. Cambridge + xli. The Germ of 'Maud' + xlii. _'A gate and afield half ploughed'_ + xliii. The Skipping-Rope + xliv. The New Timon and the Poets + xlv. Mablethorpe + xlvi. _'What time I wasted youthful hours'_ + xlvii. Britons, guard your own +xlviii. Hands all round + xlix. Suggested by reading an article in a newspaper + l. _'God bless our Prince and Bride'_ + li. The Ringlet + lii. Song _'Home they brought him slain with spears'_ + liii. 1865-1866 + + +THE LOVER'S TALE, 1833. + + +INDEX OF FIRST LINES + + + + +_Note_ + +_To those unacquainted with Tennyson's conscientious methods, it may +seem strange that a volume of 160 pages is necessary to contain those +poems written and published by him during his active literary career, +and ultimately rejected as unsatisfactory. Of this considerable body +of verse, a great part was written, not in youth or old age, but while +Tennyson's powers were at their greatest. Whatever reasons may once +have existed for suppressing the poems that follow, the student of +English literature is entitled to demand that the whole body of +Tennyson's work should now be open, without restriction or impediment, +to the critical study to which the works of his compeers are +subjected._ + +_The bibliographical notes prefixed to the various poems give, in every +case, the date and medium of first publication._ + +_J.C.T._ + + + + +=Timbuctoo= + +A Poem Which Obtained The Chancellor's Medal At The +_Cambridge Commencement_ MDCCCXXIX + +By +A. Tennyson +Of Trinity College + +[Printed in Cambridge _Chronicle and Journal_ of Friday, July 10, +1829, and at the University Press by James Smith, among the +_Prolusiones Academicæ Præmiis annuis dignatæ et in Curia +Cantabrigiensi Recitatæ Comitiis Maximis_, MDCCCXXIX. Republished in +_Cambridge Prize Poems_, 1813 to 1858, by Messrs. Macmillan in 1859, +without alteration; and in 1893 in the appendix to a reprint of _Poems +by Two Brothers_]. + + +=Timbuctoo= + + Deep in that lion-haunted inland lies + A mystic city, goal of high Emprize.[A] + --CHAPMAN. + + I stood upon the Mountain which o'erlooks + The narrow seas, whose rapid interval + Parts Afric from green Europe, when the Sun + Had fall'n below th' Atlantick, and above + The silent Heavens were blench'd with faery light, + Uncertain whether faery light or cloud, + Flowing Southward, and the chasms of deep, deep blue + Slumber'd unfathomable, and the stars + Were flooded over with clear glory and pale. + I gaz'd upon the sheeny coast beyond, + There where the Giant of old Time infixed + The limits of his prowess, pillars high + Long time eras'd from Earth: even as the sea + When weary of wild inroad buildeth up + Huge mounds whereby to stay his yeasty waves. + And much I mus'd on legends quaint and old + Which whilome won the hearts of all on Earth + Toward their brightness, ev'n as flame draws air; + But had their being in the heart of Man + As air is th' life of flame: and thou wert then + A center'd glory-circled Memory, + Divinest Atalantis, whom the waves + Have buried deep, and thou of later name + Imperial Eldorado root'd with gold: + Shadows to which, despite all shocks of Change, + All on-set of capricious Accident, + Men clung with yearning Hope which would not die. + As when in some great City where the walls + Shake, and the streets with ghastly faces throng'd + Do utter forth a subterranean voice, + Among the inner columns far retir'd + At midnight, in the lone Acropolis. + Before the awful Genius of the place + Kneels the pale Priestess in deep faith, the while + Above her head the weak lamp dips and winks + Unto the fearful summoning without: + Nathless she ever clasps the marble knees, + Bathes the cold hand with tears, and gazeth on + Those eyes which wear no light but that wherewith + Her phantasy informs them. + + Where are ye + Thrones of the Western wave, fair Islands green? + Where are your moonlight halls, your cedarn glooms, + The blossoming abysses of your hills? + Your flowering Capes and your gold-sanded bays + Blown round with happy airs of odorous winds? + Where are the infinite ways which, Seraphtrod, + Wound thro' your great Elysian solitudes, + Whose lowest depths were, as with visible love, + Fill'd with Divine effulgence, circumfus'd, + Flowing between the clear and polish'd stems, + And ever circling round their emerald cones + In coronals and glories, such as gird + The unfading foreheads of the Saints in Heaven? + For nothing visible, they say, had birth + In that blest ground but it was play'd about + With its peculiar glory. Then I rais'd + My voice and cried 'Wide Afric, doth thy Sun + Lighten, thy hills enfold a City as fair + As those which starr'd the night o' the Elder World? + Or is the rumour of thy Timbuctoo + A dream as frail as those of ancient Time?' + + A curve of whitening, flashing, ebbing light! + A rustling of white wings! The bright descent + Of a young Seraph! and he stood beside me + There on the ridge, and look'd into my face + With his unutterable, shining orbs, + So that with hasty motion I did veil + My vision with both hands, and saw before me + Such colour'd spots as dance athwart the eyes + Of those that gaze upon the noonday Sun. + Girt with a Zone of flashing gold beneath + His breast, and compass'd round about his brow + With triple arch of everchanging bows, + And circled with the glory of living light + And alternations of all hues, he stood. + 'O child of man, why muse you here alone + Upon the Mountain, on the dreams of old + Which fill'd the Earth with passing loveliness, + Which flung strange music on the howling winds, + And odours rapt from remote Paradise? + Thy sense is clogg'd with dull mortality, + Thy spirit fetter'd with the bond of clay: + Open thine eye and see.' + + I look'd, but not + Upon his face, for it was wonderful + With its exceeding brightness, and the light + Of the great angel mind which look'd from out + The starry glowing of his restless eyes. + I felt my soul grow mighty, and my spirit + With supernatural excitation bound + Within me, and my mental eye grew large + With such a vast circumference of thought, + That in my vanity I seem'd to stand + Upon the outward verge and bound alone + Of full beatitude. Each failing sense + As with a momentary flash of light + Grew thrillingly distinct and keen. I saw + The smallest grain that dappled the dark Earth, + The indistinctest atom in deep air, + The Moon's white cities, and the opal width + Of her small glowing lakes, her silver heights + Unvisited with dew of vagrant cloud, + And the unsounded, undescended depth + Of her black hollows. The clear Galaxy + Shorn of its hoary lustre, wonderful, + Distinct and vivid with sharp points of light + Blaze within blaze, an unimagin'd depth + And harmony of planet-girded Suns + And moon-encircled planets, wheel in wheel, + Arch'd the wan Sapphire. Nay, the hum of men, + Or other things talking in unknown tongues, + And notes of busy life in distant worlds + Beat like a far wave on my anxious ear. + + A maze of piercing, trackless, thrilling thoughts + Involving and embracing each with each + Rapid as fire, inextricably link'd, + Expanding momently with every sight + And sound which struck the palpitating sense, + The issue of strong impulse, hurried through + The riv'n rapt brain: as when in some large lake + From pressure of descendant crags, which lapse + Disjointed, crumbling from their parent slope + At slender interval, the level calm + Is ridg'd with restless and increasing spheres + Which break upon each other, each th' effect + Of separate impulse, but more fleet and strong + Than its precursor, till the eyes in vain + Amid the wild unrest of swimming shade + Dappled with hollow and alternate rise + Of interpenetrated arc, would scan + Definite round. + I know not if I shape + These things with accurate similitude + From visible objects, for but dimly now, + Less vivid than a half-forgotten dream, + The memory of that mental excellence + Comes o'er me, and it may be I entwine + The indecision of my present mind + With its past clearness, yet it seems to me + As even then the torrent of quick thought + Absorbed me from the nature of itself + With its own fleetness. Where is he that, borne + Adown the sloping of an arrowy stream, + Could link his shallop to the fleeting edge, + And muse midway with philosophic calm + Upon the wondrous laws which regulate + The fierceness of the bounding element? + My thoughts which long had grovell'd in the slime + Of this dull world, like dusky worms which house + Beneath unshaken waters, but at once + Upon some earth-awakening day of spring + Do pass from gloom to glory, and aloft + Winnow the purple, bearing on both sides + Double display of starlit wings which burn + Fanlike and fibred, with intensest bloom: + E'en so my thoughts, erewhile so low, now felt + Unutterable buoyancy and strength + To bear them upward through the trackless fields + Of undefin'd existence far and free. + + Then first within the South methought I saw + A wilderness of spires, and chrystal pile + Of rampart upon rampart, dome on dome, + Illimitable range of battlement + On battlement, and the Imperial height + Of Canopy o'ercanopied. + Behind, + In diamond light, upsprung the dazzling Cones + Of Pyramids, as far surpassing Earth's + As Heaven than Earth is fairer. Each aloft + Upon his renown'd Eminence bore globes + Of wheeling suns, or stars, or semblances + Of either, showering circular abyss + Of radiance. But the glory of the place + Stood out a pillar'd front of burnish'd gold + Interminably high, if gold it were + Or metal more ethereal, and beneath + Two doors of blinding brilliance, where no gaze + Might rest, stood open, and the eye could scan + Through length of porch and lake and boundless + hall, + Part of a throne of fiery flame, wherefrom + The snowy skirting of a garment hung, + And glimpse of multitudes of multitudes + That minister'd around it--if I saw + These things distinctly, for my human brain + Stagger'd beneath the vision, and thick night + Came down upon my eyelids, and I fell. + + With ministering hand he rais'd me up; + Then with a mournful and ineffable smile, + Which but to look on for a moment fill'd + My eyes with irresistible sweet tears, + In accents of majestic melody, + Like a swol'n river's gushings in still night + Mingled with floating music, thus he spake: + 'There is no mightier Spirit than I to sway + The heart of man: and teach him to attain + By shadowing forth the Unattainable; + And step by step to scale that mighty stair + Whose landing-place is wrapt about with clouds + Of glory of Heaven.[B] With earliest Light of Spring, + And in the glow of sallow Summertide, + And in red Autumn when the winds are wild + With gambols, and when full-voiced Winter roofs + The headland with inviolate white snow, + I play about his heart a thousand ways, + Visit his eyes with visions, and his ears + With harmonies of wind and wave and wood + --Of winds which tell of waters, and of waters + Betraying the close kisses of the wind-- + And win him unto me: and few there be + So gross of heart who have not felt and known + A higher than they see: They with dim eyes + Behold me darkling. Lo! I have given _thee_ + To understand my presence, and to feel + My fullness; I have fill'd thy lips with power. + I have rais'd thee higher to the Spheres of Heaven, + Man's first, last home: and thou with ravish'd sense + Listenest the lordly music flowing from + Th' illimitable years. I am the Spirit, + The permeating life which courseth through + All th' intricate and labyrinthine veins + Of the great vine of _Fable_, which, outspread + With growth of shadowing leaf and clusters rare, + Reacheth to every corner under Heaven, + Deep-rooted in the living soil of truth: + So that men's hopes and fears take refuge in + The fragrance of its complicated glooms + And cool impleachèd twilights. Child of Man, + See'st thou yon river, whose translucent wave, + Forth issuing from darkness, windeth through + The argent streets o' the City, imaging + The soft inversion of her tremulous Domes; + Her gardens frequent with the stately Palm, + Her Pagods hung with music of sweet bells: + Her obelisks of rangèd Chrysolite, + Minarets and towers? Lo! how he passeth by, + And gulphs himself in sands, as not enduring + To carry through the world those waves, which bore + The reflex of my City in their depths. + Oh City! Oh latest Throne! where I was rais'd + To be a mystery of loveliness + Unto all eyes, the time is well nigh come + When I must render up this glorious home + To keen _Discovery_: soon yon brilliant towers + Shall darken with the waving of her wand; + Darken, and shrink and shiver into huts, + Black specks amid a waste of dreary sand, + Low-built, mud-walled, Barbarian settlement, + How chang'd from this fair City!' + Thus far the Spirit: + Then parted Heavenward on the wing: and I + Was left alone on Calpe, and the Moon + Had fallen from the night, and all was dark! + + +[The following review of 'Timbuctoo' was published in the _Athenæum_ +of 22nd July, 1829: 'We have accustomed ourselves to think, perhaps +without any very good reason, that poetry was likely to perish among +us for a considerable period after the great generation of poets which +is now passing away. The age seems determined to contradict us, and +that in the most decided manner; for it has put forth poetry by a +young man, and that where we should least expect it--namely, in a +prize poem. These productions have often been ingenious and elegant +but we have never before seen one of them which indicated really +first-rate poetical genius, and which would have done honour to any +men that ever wrote. Such, we do not hesitate to affirm, is the little +work before us; and the examiners seem to have felt it like ourselves, +for they have assigned the prize to the author, though the measure in +which he writes was never before, we believe, thus selected for +honour. We extract a few lines to justify our admiration (50 lines, +62-112, quoted). How many men have lived for a century who could equal +this?' At the time when this highly eulogistic notice of the youthful +unknown poet appeared, the _Athenæum_ was edited by John Sterling and +Frederick Denison Maurice, its then proprietors.] + + +[Footnote A: Mr Swinburne failed to find this couplet in any of +Chapman's original poems or translations, and was of opinion that it +is Tennyson's own.] + +[Footnote B: Be ye perfect even as your Father in Heaven is perfect.] + + + + +=Poems Chiefly Lyrical= + +[The poems numbered I-XXIV which follow, were published in 1830 in the +volume _Poems chiefly Lyrical_. (London: Effingham Wilson, Royal +Exchange, 1830.) They were never republished by Tennyson.] + + + + +I + +=The 'How' and the 'Why'= + + I am any man's suitor, + If any will be my tutor: + Some say this life is pleasant, + Some think it speedeth fast: + In time there is no present, + In eternity no future, + In eternity no past. + We laugh, we cry, we are born, we die, + Who will riddle me the _how_ and the _why_? + + The bulrush nods unto his brother + The wheatears whisper to each other: + What is it they say? What do they there? + Why two and two make four? Why round is not square? + Why the rocks stand still, and the light clouds fly? + Why the heavy oak groans, and the white willows sigh? + Why deep is not high, and high is not deep? + Whether we wake or whether we sleep? + Whether we sleep or whether we die? + How you are you? Why I am I? + Who will riddle me the _how_ and the _why_? + + The world is somewhat; it goes on somehow; + But what is the meaning of _then_ and _now_! + I feel there is something; but how and what? + I know there is somewhat; but what and why! + I cannot tell if that somewhat be I. + + The little bird pipeth 'why! why!' + In the summerwoods when the sun falls low, + And the great bird sits on the opposite bough, + And stares in his face and shouts 'how? how?' + And the black owl scuds down the mellow twilight, + And chaunts 'how? how?' the whole of the night. + + Why the life goes when the blood is spilt? + What the life is? where the soul may lie? + Why a church is with a steeple built; + And a house with a chimney-pot? + Who will riddle me the how and the what? + Who will riddle me the what and the why? + + + + +II + +=The Burial of Love= + + His eyes in eclipse, + Pale cold his lips, + The light of his hopes unfed, + Mute his tongue, + His bow unstrung + With the tears he hath shed, + Backward drooping his graceful head. + + Love is dead; + His last arrow sped; + He hath not another dart; + Go--carry him to his dark deathbed; + Bury him in the cold, cold heart-- + Love is dead. + + Oh, truest love! art thou forlorn, + And unrevenged? Thy pleasant wiles + Forgotten, and thine innocent joy? + Shall hollow-hearted apathy, + The cruellest form of perfect scorn, + With langour of most hateful smiles, + For ever write + In the weathered light + Of the tearless eye + An epitaph that all may spy? + No! sooner she herself shall die. + + For her the showers shall not fall, + Nor the round sun that shineth to all; + Her light shall into darkness change; + For her the green grass shall not spring, + Nor the rivers flow, nor the sweet birds sing, + Till Love have his full revenge. + + + + +III + +=To ----= + + Sainted Juliet! dearest name! + If to love be life alone, + Divinest Juliet, + I love thee, and live; and yet + Love unreturned is like the fragrant flame + Folding the slaughter of the sacrifice + Offered to Gods upon an altarthrone; + My heart is lighted at thine eyes, + Changed into fire, and blown about with sighs. + + + + +IV + +=Song= + + I + + I' the glooming light + Of middle night, + So cold and white, + Worn Sorrow sits by the moaning wave; + Beside her are laid, + Her mattock and spade, + For she hath half delved her own deep grave. + Alone she is there: + The white clouds drizzle: her hair falls loose; + Her shoulders are bare; + Her tears are mixed with the bearded dews. + + II + + Death standeth by; + She will not die; + With glazèd eye + She looks at her grave: she cannot sleep; + Ever alone + She maketh her moan: + She cannot speak; she can only weep; + For she will not hope. + The thick snow falls on her flake by flake, + The dull wave mourns down the slope, + The world will not change, and her heart will not break. + + + + +V + +=Song= + + I + + Every day hath its night: + Every night its morn: + Through dark and bright + Wingèd hours are borne; + Ah! welaway! + Seasons flower and fade; + Golden calm and storm + Mingle day by day. + There is no bright form + Doth not cast a shade-- + Ah! welaway! + + II + + When we laugh, and our mirth + Apes the happy vein, + We're so kin to earth + Pleasuance fathers pain-- + Ah! welaway! + Madness laugheth loud: + Laughter bringeth tears: + Eyes are worn away + Till the end of fears + Cometh in the shroud, + Ah! welaway! + + III + + All is change, woe or weal; + Joy is sorrow's brother; + Grief and sadness steal + Symbols of each other; + Ah! welaway! + Larks in heaven's cope + Sing: the culvers mourn + All the livelong day. + Be not all forlorn; + Let us weep in hope-- + Ah! welaway! + + + + +VI + +=Hero to Leander= + + Oh go not yet, my love, + The night is dark and vast; + The white moon is hid in her heaven above, + And the waves climb high and fast. + Oh! kiss me, kiss me, once again, + Lest thy kiss should be the last. + Oh kiss me ere we part; + Grow closer to my heart. + My heart is warmer surely than the bosom of the main. + + Oh joy! O bliss of blisses! + My heart of hearts art thou. + Come bathe me with thy kisses, + My eyelids and my brow. + Hark how the wild rain hisses, + And the loud sea roars below. + + Thy heart beats through thy rosy limbs + So gladly doth it stir; + Thine eye in drops of gladness swims. + I have bathed thee with the pleasant myrrh; + Thy locks are dripping balm; + Thou shalt not wander hence to-night, + I'll stay thee with my kisses. + To-night the roaring brine + Will rend thy golden tresses; + The ocean with the morrow light + Will be both blue and calm; + And the billow will embrace thee with a kiss as soft as mine. + + No western odours wander + On the black and moaning sea, + And when thou art dead, Leander, + My soul shall follow thee! + Oh go not yet, my love, + Thy voice is sweet and low; + The deep salt wave breaks in above + Those marble steps below. + The turretstairs are wet + That lead into the sea. + Leander! go not yet. + The pleasant stars have set! + Oh! go not, go not yet, + Or I will follow thee. + + + + +VII + +=The Mystic= + + Angels have talked with him, and showed him thrones: + Ye knew him not: he was not one of ye, + Ye scorned him with an undiscerning scorn: + Ye could not read the marvel in his eye, + The still serene abstraction; he hath felt + The vanities of after and before; + Albeit, his spirit and his secret heart + The stern experiences of converse lives, + The linkèd woes of many a fiery change + Had purified, and chastened, and made free. + Always there stood before him, night and day, + Of wayward vary coloured circumstance, + The imperishable presences serene, + Colossal, without form, or sense, or sound, + Dim shadows but unwaning presences + Fourfacèd to four corners of the sky; + And yet again, three shadows, fronting one, + One forward, one respectant, three but one; + And yet again, again and evermore, + For the two first were not, but only seemed + One shadow in the midst of a great light, + One reflex from eternity on time, + One mighty countenance of perfect calm, + Awful with most invariable eyes. + For him the silent congregated hours, + Daughters of time, divinely tall, beneath + Severe and youthful brows, with shining eyes + Smiling a godlike smile (the innocent light + Of earliest youth pierced through and through with all + Keen knowledges of low-embowèd eld) + Upheld, and ever hold aloft the cloud + Which droops low hung on either gate of life, + Both birth and death; he in the centre fixed, + Saw far on each side through the grated gates + Most pale and clear and lovely distances. + He often lying broad awake, and yet + Remaining from the body, and apart + In intellect and power and will, hath heard + Time flowing in the middle of the night, + And all things creeping to a day of doom. + How could ye know him? Ye were yet within + The narrower circle; he had well nigh reached + The last, with which a region of white flame, + Pure without heat, into a larger air + Upburning, and an ether of black hue, + Investeth and ingirds all other lives. + + + + +VIII + +=The Grasshopper= + + I + + Voice of the summerwind, + Joy of the summerplain, + Life of the summerhours, + Carol clearly, bound along. + No Tithon thou as poets feign + (Shame fall 'em they are deaf and blind) + But an insect lithe and strong, + Bowing the seeded summerflowers. + Prove their falsehood and thy quarrel, + Vaulting on thine airy feet. + Clap thy shielded sides and carol, + Carol clearly, chirrup sweet + Thou art a mailèd warrior in youth and strength complete; + Armed cap-a-pie, + Full fair to see; + Unknowing fear, + Undreading loss, + A gallant cavalier + _Sans peur et sans reproche_, + In sunlight and in shadow, + The Bayard of the meadow. + + II + + I would dwell with thee, + Merry grasshopper, + Thou art so glad and free, + And as light as air; + Thou hast no sorrow or tears, + Thou hast no compt of years, + No withered immortality, + But a short youth sunny and free. + Carol clearly, bound along, + Soon thy joy is over, + A summer of loud song, + And slumbers in the clover. + What hast thou to do with evil + In thine hour of love and revel, + In thy heat of summerpride, + Pushing the thick roots aside + Of the singing flowerèd grasses, + That brush thee with their silken tresses? + What hast thou to do with evil, + Shooting, singing, ever springing + In and out the emerald glooms, + Ever leaping, ever singing, + Lighting on the golden blooms? + + + + +IX + +=Love, Pride and Forgetfulness= + + Ere yet my heart was sweet Love's tomb, + Love laboured honey busily. + I was the hive and Love the bee, + My heart the honey-comb. + One very dark and chilly night + Pride came beneath and held a light. + + The cruel vapours went through all, + Sweet Love was withered in his cell; + Pride took Love's sweets, and by a spell + Did change them into gall; + And Memory tho' fed by Pride + Did wax so thin on gall, + Awhile she scarcely lived at all, + What marvel that she died? + + + + +X + +=Chorus= + +_In an unpublished drama written very early._ + + The varied earth, the moving heaven, + The rapid waste of roving sea, + The fountainpregnant mountains riven + To shapes of wildest anarchy, + By secret fire and midnight storms + That wander round their windy cones, + The subtle life, the countless forms + Of living things, the wondrous tones + Of man and beast are full of strange + Astonishment and boundless change. + + The day, the diamonded light, + The echo, feeble child of sound, + The heavy thunder's girding might, + The herald lightning's starry bound, + The vocal spring of bursting bloom, + The naked summer's glowing birth, + The troublous autumn's sallow gloom, + The hoarhead winter paving earth + With sheeny white, are full of strange + Astonishment and boundless change. + + Each sun which from the centre flings + Grand music and redundant fire, + The burning belts, the mighty rings, + The murmurous planets' rolling choir, + The globefilled arch that, cleaving air, + Lost in its effulgence sleeps, + The lawless comets as they glare, + And thunder thro' the sapphire deeps + In wayward strength, are full of strange + Astonishment and boundless change. + + + + +XI + +=Lost Hope= + + You cast to ground the hope which once was mine, + But did the while your harsh decree deplore, + Embalming with sweet tears the vacant shrine, + My heart, where Hope had been and was no more. + + So on an oaken sprout + A goodly acorn grew; + But winds from heaven shook the acorn out, + And filled the cup with dew. + + + + +XII + +=The Tears of Heaven= + + Heaven weeps above the earth all night till morn, + In darkness weeps, as all ashamed to weep, + Because the earth hath made her state forlorn + With selfwrought evils of unnumbered years, + And doth the fruit of her dishonour reap. + And all the day heaven gathers back her tears + Into her own blue eyes so clear and deep, + And showering down the glory of lightsome day, + Smiles on the earth's worn brow to win her if she may. + + + + +XIII + +=Love and Sorrow= + + O maiden, fresher than the first green leaf + With which the fearful springtide flecks the lea, + Weep not, Almeida, that I said to thee + That thou hast half my heart, for bitter grief + Doth hold the other half in sovranty. + Thou art my heart's sun in love's crystalline: + Yet on both sides at once thou canst not shine: + Thine is the bright side of my heart, and thine + My heart's day, but the shadow of my heart, + Issue of its own substance, my heart's night + Thou canst not lighten even with _thy_ light, + All powerful in beauty as thou art. + Almeida, if my heart were substanceless, + Then might thy rays pass thro' to the other side, + So swiftly, that they nowhere would abide, + But lose themselves in utter emptiness. + Half-light, half-shadow, let my spirit sleep + They never learnt to love who never knew to weep. + + + + +XIV + +=To a Lady Sleeping= + + O thou whose fringèd lids I gaze upon, + Through whose dim brain the wingèd dreams are born, + Unroof the shrines of clearest vision, + In honour of the silverfleckèd morn: + Long hath the white wave of the virgin light + Driven back the billow of the dreamful dark. + Thou all unwittingly prolongest night, + Though long ago listening the poisèd lark, + With eyes dropt downward through the blue serene, + Over heaven's parapets the angels lean. + + + + +XV + +=Sonnet= + + Could I outwear my present state of woe + With one brief winter, and indue i' the spring + Hues of fresh youth, and mightily outgrow + The wan dark coil of faded suffering-- + Forth in the pride of beauty issuing + A sheeny snake, the light of vernal bowers, + Moving his crest to all sweet plots of flowers + And watered vallies where the young birds sing; + Could I thus hope my lost delights renewing, + I straightly would commend the tears to creep + From my charged lids; but inwardly I weep: + Some vital heat as yet my heart is wooing: + This to itself hath drawn the frozen rain + From my cold eyes and melted it again. + + + + +XVI + +=Sonnet= + + Though Night hath climbed her peak of highest noon, + And bitter blasts the screaming autumn whirl, + All night through archways of the bridgèd pearl + And portals of pure silver walks the moon. + Wake on, my soul, nor crouch to agony: + Turn cloud to light, and bitterness to joy, + And dross to gold with glorious alchemy, + Basing thy throne above the world's annoy. + Reign thou above the storms of sorrow and ruth + That roar beneath; unshaken peace hath won thee: + So shall thou pierce the woven glooms of truth; + So shall the blessing of the meek be on thee; + So in thine hour of dawn, the body's youth, + An honourable eld shall come upon thee. + + + + +XVII + +=Sonnet= + + Shall the hag Evil die with the child of Good, + Or propagate again her loathèd kind, + Thronging the cells of the diseased mind, + Hateful with hanging cheeks, a withered brood, + Though hourly pastured on the salient blood? + Oh! that the wind which bloweth cold or heat + Would shatter and o'erbear the brazen beat + Of their broad vans, and in the solitude + Of middle space confound them, and blow back + Their wild cries down their cavernthroats, and slake + With points of blastborne hail their heated eyne! + So their wan limbs no more might come between + The moon and the moon's reflex in the night; + Nor blot with floating shades the solar light. + + + + +XVIII + +=Sonnet= + + The palid thunderstricken sigh for gain, + Down an ideal stream they ever float, + And sailing on Pactolus in a boat, + Drown soul and sense, while wistfully they strain + Weak eyes upon the glistering sands that robe + The understream. The wise could he behold + Cathedralled caverns of thick-ribbèd gold + And branching silvers of the central globe, + Would marvel from so beautiful a sight + How scorn and ruin, pain and hate could flow: + But Hatred in a gold cave sits below, + Pleached with her hair, in mail of argent light + Shot into gold, a snake her forehead clips + And skins the colour from her trembling lips. + + + + +XIX + +=Love= + + I + + Thou, from the first, unborn, undying love, + Albeit we gaze not on thy glories near, + Before the face of God didst breath and move, + Though night and pain and ruin and death reign here. + Thou foldest, like a golden atmosphere, + The very throne of the eternal God: + Passing through thee the edicts of his fear + Are mellowed into music, borne abroad + By the loud winds, though they uprend the sea, + Even from his central deeps: thine empery + Is over all: thou wilt not brook eclipse; + Thou goest and returnest to His Lips + Like lightning: thou dost ever brood above + The silence of all hearts, unutterable Love. + + II + + To know thee is all wisdom, and old age + Is but to know thee: dimly we behold thee + Athwart the veils of evil which enfold thee + We beat upon our aching hearts with rage; + We cry for thee: we deem the world thy tomb. + As dwellers in lone planets look upon + The mighty disk of their majestic sun, + Hallowed in awful chasms of wheeling gloom, + Making their day dim, so we gaze on thee. + Come, thou of many crowns, white-robèd love, + Oh! rend the veil in twain: all men adore thee; + Heaven crieth after thee; earth waileth for thee: + Breathe on thy wingèd throne, and it shall move + In music and in light o'er land and sea. + + III + + And now--methinks I gaze upon thee now, + As on a serpent in his agonies + Awestricken Indians; what time laid low + And crushing the thick fragrant reeds he lies, + When the new year warm breathèd on the earth, + Waiting to light him with his purple skies, + Calls to him by the fountain to uprise. + Already with the pangs of a new birth + Strain the hot spheres of his convulsèd eyes, + And in his writhings awful hues begin + To wander down his sable sheeny sides, + Like light on troubled waters: from within + Anon he rusheth forth with merry din, + And in him light and joy and strength abides; + And from his brows a crown of living light + Looks through the thickstemmed woods by day and night + + + + +XX + +=English War Song= + + Who fears to die? Who fears to die? + Is there any here who fears to die + He shall find what he fears, and none shall grieve + For the man who fears to die: + But the withering scorn of the many shall cleave + To the man who fears to die. + + _Chorus_.--Shout for England! + Ho! for England! + George for England! + Merry England! + England for aye! + + The hollow at heart shall crouch forlorn, + He shall eat the bread of common scorn; + It shall be steeped in the salt, salt tear, + Shall be steeped in his own salt tear: + Far better, far better he never were born + Than to shame merry England here. + + _Chorus_.--Shout for England! etc. + + There standeth our ancient enemy; + Hark! he shouteth--the ancient enemy! + On the ridge of the hill his banners rise; + They stream like fire in the skies; + Hold up the Lion of England on high + Till it dazzle and blind his eyes. + + _Chorus_.--Shout for England! etc. + + Come along! we alone of the earth are free; + The child in our cradles is bolder than he; + For where is the heart and strength of slaves? + Oh! where is the strength of slaves? + He is weak! we are strong; he a slave, we are free; + Come along! we will dig their graves. + + _Chorus_.--Shout for England! etc. + + There standeth our ancient enemy; + Will he dare to battle with the free? + Spur along! spur amain! charge to the fight: + Charge! charge to the fight! + Hold up the Lion of England on high! + Shout for God and our right! + + _Chorus_.--Shout for England! etc. + + + + +XXI + +=National Song= + + There is no land like England + Where'er the light of day be; + There are no hearts like English hearts, + Such hearts of oak as they be. + There is no land like England + Where'er the light of day be; + There are no men like Englishmen, + So tall and bold as they be. + + _Chorus_.--For the French the Pope may shrive 'em, + For the devil a whit we heed 'em, + As for the French, God speed 'em + Unto their hearts' desire, + And the merry devil drive 'em + Through the water and the fire. + + _Chorus_.--Our glory is our freedom, + We lord it o'er the sea; + We are the sons of freedom, + We are free. + + There is no land like England, + Where'er the light of day be; + There are no wives like English wives, + So fair and chaste as they be. + There is no land like England, + Where'er the light of day be, + There are no maids like English maids, + So beautiful as they be. + + _Chorus_.--For the French, etc. + +[Sixty years after first publication this Song was incorporated in +'The Foresters' (published 1892) as the opening chorus of the second +act. The two verses were unaltered, but the two choruses were +re-written.] + + + + +XXII + +=Dualisms= + + Two bees within a chrystal flowerbell rockèd + Hum a lovelay to the westwind at noontide. + Both alike, they buzz together, + Both alike, they hum together + Through and through the flowered heather. + + Where in a creeping cove the wave unshockèd + Lays itself calm and wide, + Over a stream two birds of glancing feather + Do woo each other, carolling together. + Both alike, they glide together + Side by side; + Both alike, they sing together, + Arching blue-glossèd necks beneath the purple weather. + + Two children lovelier than love, adown the lea are singing, + As they gambol, lilygarlands ever stringing: + Both in blosmwhite silk are frockèd: + Like, unlike, they roam together + Under a summervault of golden weather; + Like, unlike, they sing together + Side by side; + Mid May's darling goldenlockèd, + Summer's tanling diamondeyed. + + + + +XXIII + +[Greek: ohi rheontes] + + I + + All thoughts, all creeds, all dreams are true, + All visions wild and strange; + Man is the measure of all truth + Unto himself. All truth is change: + All men do walk in sleep, and all + Have faith in that they dream: + For all things are as they seem to all, + And all things flow like a stream. + + II + + There is no rest, no calm, no pause, + Nor good nor ill, nor light nor shade, + Nor essence nor eternal laws: + For nothing is, but all is made, + But if I dream that all these are, + They are to me for that I dream; + For all things are as they seem to all, + And all things flow like a stream. + + +Argal.--This very opinion is only true relatively to the flowing +philosophers. (Tennyson's note.) + + + + +XXIV + +=Song= + + I + + The lintwhite and the throstlecock + Have voices sweet and clear; + All in the bloomèd May. + They from the blosmy brere + Call to the fleeting year, + If that he would them hear + And stay. + Alas! that one so beautiful + Should have so dull an ear. + + II + + Fair year, fair year, thy children call, + But thou art deaf as death; + All in the bloomèd May. + When thy light perisheth + That from thee issueth, + Our life evanisheth: + Oh! stay. + Alas! that lips so cruel dumb + Should have so sweet a breath! + + III + + Fair year, with brows of royal love + Thou comest, as a King. + All in the bloomèd May. + Thy golden largess fling, + And longer hear us sing; + Though thou art fleet of wing, + Yet stay. + Alas! that eyes so full of light + Should be so wandering! + + IV + + Thy locks are full of sunny sheen + In rings of gold yronne,[C] + All in the bloomèd May, + We pri' thee pass not on; + If thou dost leave the sun, + Delight is with thee gone, + Oh! stay. + Thou art the fairest of thy feres, + We pri' thee pass not on. + +[Footnote C: His crispè hair in ringis was yronne.--Chaucer, _Knight's +Tale_. (Tennyson's note.)] + + + + +=Contributions to Periodicals 1831-32= + + +XXV + +=A Fragment= + +[Published in _The Gem: a Literary Annual_. London: W. Marshall, +Holborn Bars, mdcccxxxi.] + + Where is the Giant of the Sun, which stood + In the midnoon the glory of old Rhodes, + A perfect Idol, with profulgent brows + Far sheening down the purple seas to those + Who sailed from Mizraim underneath the star + Named of the Dragon--and between whose limbs + Of brassy vastness broad-blown Argosies + Drave into haven? Yet endure unscathed + Of changeful cycles the great Pyramids + Broad-based amid the fleeting sands, and sloped + Into the slumberous summer noon; but where, + Mysterious Egypt, are thine obelisks + Graven with gorgeous emblems undiscerned? + Thy placid Sphinxes brooding o'er the Nile? + Thy shadowy Idols in the solitudes, + Awful Memnonian countenances calm + Looking athwart the burning flats, far off + Seen by the high-necked camel on the verge + Journeying southward? Where are thy monuments + Piled by the strong and sunborn Anakim + Over their crowned brethren [Greek: ON] and [Greek: ORÊ]? + Thy Memnon, when his peaceful lips are kissed + With earliest rays, that from his mother's eyes + Flow over the Arabian bay, no more + Breathes low into the charmed ears of morn + Clear melody flattering the crisped Nile + By columned Thebes. Old Memphis hath gone down: + The Pharaohs are no more: somewhere in death + They sleep with staring eyes and gilded lips, + Wrapped round with spiced cerements in old grots + Rock-hewn and sealed for ever. + + + + +XXVI + +=Anacreontics= + +[Published in _The Gem: a Literary Annual_. London: W. Marshall, +Holborn Bars, mdcccxxxi.] + + With roses musky breathed, + And drooping daffodilly, + And silverleaved lily, + And ivy darkly-wreathed, + I wove a crown before her, + For her I love so dearly, + A garland for Lenora. + With a silken cord I bound it. + Lenora, laughing clearly + A light and thrilling laughter, + About her forehead wound it, + And loved me ever after. + + + + +XXVII + +[Published in _The Gem: a Literary Annual_. London: W. Marshall, +Holborn Bars, mdcccxxxi.] + + O sad _No more!_ O sweet _No more!_ + O strange _No more!_ + By a mossed brookbank on a stone + I smelt a wildweed flower alone; + There was a ringing in my ears, + And both my eyes gushed out with tears. + Surely all pleasant things had gone before, + Low-buried fathom deep beneath with thee, + NO MORE! + + + + +XXVIII + +=Sonnet= + +[Published in the _Englishman's Magazine_, August, 1831. London: +Edward Moxon, 64 New Bond Street. Reprinted in _Friendship's Offering: +a Literary Album_ for 1833. London; Smith and Elder.] + + Check every outflash, every ruder sally + Of thought and speech; speak low, and give up wholly + Thy spirit to mild-minded Melancholy; + This is the place. Through yonder poplar alley + Below, the blue-green river windeth slowly; + But in the middle of the sombre valley + The crispèd waters whisper musically, + And all the haunted place is dark and holy. + The nightingale, with long and low preamble, + Warbled from yonder knoll of solemn larches, + And in and out the woodbine's flowery arches + The summer midges wove their wanton gambol, + And all the white-stemmed pinewood slept above-- + When in this valley first I told my love. + + + + +XXIX + +=Sonnet= + +[Published in _Friendships Offering: a Literary Album_ for 1832. +London: Smith and Elder.] + + Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh: + Thy woes are birds of passage, transitory: + Thy spirit, circled with a living glory, + In summer still a summer joy resumeth. + Alone my hopeless melancholy gloometh, + Like a lone cypress, through the twilight hoary, + From an old garden where no flower bloometh, + One cypress on an inland promontory. + But yet my lonely spirit follows thine, + As round the rolling earth night follows day: + But yet thy lights on my horizon shine + Into my night when thou art far away; + I am so dark, alas! and thou so bright, + When we two meet there's never perfect light. + + + + +XXX + +=Sonnet= + +[Published in the _Yorkshire Literary Annual_ for 1832. Edited by C.F. +Edgar, London: Longman and Co. Reprinted in the _Athenæum_, 4 May, +1867.] + + There are three things that fill my heart with sighs + And steep my soul in laughter (when I view + Fair maiden forms moving like melodies), + Dimples, roselips, and eyes of any hue. + + There are three things beneath the blessed skies + For which I live--black eyes, and brown and blue; + I hold them all most dear; but oh! black eyes, + I live and die, and only die for you. + + Of late such eyes looked at me--while I mused + At sunset, underneath a shadowy plane + In old Bayona, nigh the Southern Sea-- + From an half-open lattice looked at _me_. + + I saw no more only those eyes--confused + And dazzled to the heart with glorious pain. + + + + +=Poems, 1833= + + +[The poems numbered XXXI-XXXIX were published in the 1832 volume +(_Poems by Alfred Tennyson_. London: Edward Moxon, 94 New Bond Street. +MDCCCXXXIII; published December, 1832), and were thereafter +suppressed.] + + + + +XXXI + +=Sonnet= + + Oh, Beauty, passing beauty! sweetest Sweet! + How canst thou let me waste my youth in sighs; + I only ask to sit beside thy feet. + Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes, + Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold + My arms about thee--scarcely dare to speak. + And nothing seems to me so wild and bold, + As with one kiss to touch thy blessèd cheek. + Methinks if I should kiss thee, no control + Within the thrilling brain could keep afloat + The subtle spirit. Even while I spoke, + The bare word KISS hath made my inner soul + To tremble like a lutestring, ere the note + Hath melted in the silence that it broke. + + + + +XXXII + +=The Hesperides= + + Hesperus and his daughters three + That sing about the golden tree. + --COMUS. + + The Northwind fall'n, in the newstarréd night + Zidonian Hanno, voyaging beyond + The hoary promontory of Soloë + Past Thymiaterion, in calmèd bays, + Between the Southern and the Western Horn, + Heard neither warbling of the nightingale, + Nor melody o' the Lybian lotusflute + Blown seaward from the shore; but from a slope + That ran bloombright into the Atlantic blue, + Beneath a highland leaning down a weight + Of cliffs, and zoned below with cedarshade, + Came voices, like the voices in a dream, + Continuous till he reached the other sea. + + +_Song_ + + I + + The golden apple, the golden apple, the hallowed fruit, + Guard it well, guard it warily, + Singing airily, + Standing about the charméd root. + Round about all is mute, + As the snowfield on the mountain-peaks, + As the sandfield at the mountain-foot. + Crocodiles in briny creeks + Sleep and stir not: all is mute. + If ye sing not, if ye make false measure, + We shall lose eternal pleasure, + Worth eternal want of rest. + Laugh not loudly: watch the treasure + Of the wisdom of the West. + In a corner wisdom whispers. Five and three + (Let it not be preached abroad) make an awful mystery. + For the blossom unto three-fold music bloweth; + Evermore it is born anew; + And the sap to three-fold music floweth, + From the root + Drawn in the dark, + Up to the fruit, + Creeping under the fragrant bark, + Liquid gold, honeysweet thro' and thro'. + Keen-eyed Sisters, singing airily, + Looking warily + Every way, + Guard the apple night and day, + Lest one from the East come and take it away. + + II + + Father Hesper, Father Hesper, watch, watch, ever and aye, + Looking under silver hair with a silver eye. + Father, twinkle not thy stedfast sight; + Kingdoms lapse, and climates change, and races die; + Honour comes with mystery; + Hoarded wisdom brings delight. + Number, tell them over and number + How many the mystic fruit-tree holds, + Lest the redcombed dragon slumber + Rolled together in purple folds. + Look to him, father, lest he wink, and the golden apple be stol'n away, + For his ancient heart is drunk with overwatchings night and day, + Round about the hallowed fruit tree curled-- + Sing away, sing aloud and evermore in the wind, without stop, + Lest his scalèd eyelid drop, + For he is older than the world. + If he waken, we waken, + Rapidly levelling eager eyes. + If he sleep, we sleep, + Dropping the eyelid over the eyes. + If the golden apple be taken + The world will be overwise. + Five links, a golden chain, are we, + Hesper, the dragon, and sisters three, + Bound about the golden tree. + + III + + Father Hesper, Father Hesper, watch, watch, night and day, + Lest the old wound of the world be healèd, + The glory unsealèd, + The golden apple stol'n away, + And the ancient secret revealèd. + Look from west to east along: + Father, old Himla weakens, Caucasus is bold and strong. + Wandering waters unto wandering waters call; + Let them clash together, foam and fall. + Out of watchings, out of wiles, + Comes the bliss of secret smiles, + All things are not told to all, + Half round the mantling night is drawn, + Purplefringed with even and dawn. + Hesper hateth Phosphor, evening hateth morn. + + IV + + Every flower and every fruit the redolent breath + Of this warm seawind ripeneth, + Arching the billow in his sleep; + But the land-wind wandereth, + Broken by the highland-steep, + Two streams upon the violet deep: + For the western sun and the western star, + And the low west wind, breathing afar, + The end of day and beginning of night + Make the apple holy and bright, + Holy and bright, round and full, bright and blest, + Mellowed in a land of rest; + Watch it warily day and night; + All good things are in the west, + Till midnoon the cool east light + Is shut out by the round of the tall hillbrow; + But when the fullfaced sunset yellowly + Stays on the flowering arch of the bough, + The luscious fruitage clustereth mellowly, + Goldenkernelled, goldencored, + Sunset ripened, above on the tree, + The world is wasted with fire and sword, + But the apple of gold hangs over the sea, + Five links, a golden chain, are we, + Hesper, the dragon, and sisters three, + Daughters three, + Bound about + All round about + The gnarlèd bole of the charmèd tree, + The golden apple, the golden apple, the hallowed fruit, + Guard it well, guard it warily, + Watch it warily, + Singing airily, + Standing about the charmèd root. + + + + +XXXIII + +=Rosalind= + + My Rosalind, my Rosalind, + Bold, subtle, careless Rosalind, + Is one of those who know no strife + Of inward woe or outward fear; + To whom the slope and stream of life, + The life before, the life behind, + In the ear, from far and near, + Chimeth musically clear. + My falconhearted Rosalind + Fullsailed before a vigorous wind, + Is one of those who cannot weep + For others' woes, but overleap + All the petty shocks and fears + That trouble life in early years, + With a flash of frolic scorn + And keen delight, that never falls + Away from freshness, self-upborne + With such gladness, as, whenever + The freshflushing springtime calls + To the flooding waters cool, + Young fishes, on an April morn, + Up and down a rapid river, + Leap the little waterfalls + That sing into the pebbled pool. + My happy falcon, Rosalind, + Hath daring fancies of her own, + Fresh as the dawn before the day, + Fresh as the early seasmell blown + Through vineyards from an inland bay. + My Rosalind, my Rosalind, + Because no shadow on you falls, + Think you hearts are tennis balls + To play with, wanton Rosalind? + + + + +XXXIV + +=Song= + + Who can say + Why To-day + To-morrow will be yesterday? + Who can tell + Why to smell + The violet, recalls the dewy prime + Of youth and buried time? + The cause is nowhere found in rhyme. + + + + +XXXV + +=Sonnet= + +_Written on hearing of the outbreak of the Polish Insurrection._ + + Blow ye the trumpet, gather from afar + The hosts to battle: be not bought and sold. + Arise, brave Poles, the boldest of the bold; + Break through your iron shackles--fling them far. + O for those days of Piast, ere the Czar + Grew to this strength among his deserts cold; + When even to Moscow's cupolas were rolled + The growing murmurs of the Polish war! + Now must your noble anger blaze out more + Than when from Sobieski, clan by clan, + The Moslem myriads fell, and fled before-- + Than when Zamoysky smote the Tartar Khan, + Than earlier, when on the Baltic shore + Boleslas drove the Pomeranian. + + + + +XXXVI + +=O Darling Room=[D] + + I + + O darling room, my heart's delight, + Dear room, the apple of my sight, + With thy two couches soft and white, + There is no room so exquisite, + No little room so warm and bright + Wherein to read, wherein to write. + + II + + For I the Nonnenwerth have seen, + And Oberwinter's vineyards green, + Musical Lurlei; and between + The hills to Bingen have I been, + Bingen in Darmstadt, where the Rhene + Curves towards Mentz, a woody scene. + + III + + Yet never did there meet my sight, + In any town, to left or right, + A little room so exquisite, + With two such couches soft and white; + Not any room so warm and bright, + Wherein to read, wherein to write. + +[Footnote D: 'As soon as this poem was published, I altered the second +line to "All books and pictures ranged aright"; yet "Dear room, the +apple of my sight" (which was much abused) is not as bad as "Do go, +dear rain, do go away."' [Note initialed 'A.T.' in _Life_, vol. I, p. +89.] The worthlessness of much of the criticism lavished on Tennyson +by his coterie of adulating friends may be judged from the fact that +Arthur Hallam wrote to Tennyson that this poem was 'mighty +pleasant.'] + + + + +XXXVII + +=To Christopher North= + + You did late review my lays, + Crusty Christopher; + You did mingle blame and praise, + Rusty Christopher. + When I learnt from whom it came, + I forgave you all the blame, + Musty Christopher; + I could _not_ forgive the praise, + Fusty Christopher. + +[This epigram was Tennyson's reply to an article by Professor +Wilson--'Christopher North'--in _Blackwood's Magazine_ for May 1832, +dealing in sensible fashion with Tennyson's 1830 volume, and +ridiculing the fulsome praise lavished on him by his inconsiderate +friends--especially referring to Arthur Hallam's article in the +_Englishman's Magazine_ for August, 1831.] + + + + +XXXVIII + +=The Lotos-Eaters= + +[These forty lines formed the conclusion to the original (1833) +version of the poem. When the poem was reprinted in the 1842 volumes +these lines were suppressed.] + + We have had enough of motion, + Weariness and wild alarm, + Tossing on the tossing ocean, + Where the tuskèd seahorse walloweth + In a stripe of grassgreen calm, + At noon-tide beneath the lea; + And the monstrous narwhale swalloweth + His foamfountains in the sea. + Long enough the winedark wave our weary bark did carry. + This is lovelier and sweeter, + Men of Ithaca, this is meeter, + In the hollow rosy vale to tarry, + Like a dreamy Lotos-eater, a delirious Lotos-eater! + We will eat the Lotos, sweet + As the yellow honeycomb, + In the valley some, and some + On the ancient heights divine; + And no more roam, + On the loud hoar foam, + To the melancholy home + At the limit of the brine, + The little isle of Ithaca, beneath the day's decline. + We'll lift no more the shattered oar, + No more unfurl the straining sail; + With the blissful Lotos-eaters pale + We will abide in the golden vale + Of the Lotos-land, till the Lotos fail; + We will not wander more. + Hark! how sweet the horned ewes bleat + On the solitary steeps, + And the merry lizard leaps, + And the foam-white waters pour; + And the dark pine weeps, + And the lithe vine creeps, + And the heavy melon sleeps + On the level of the shore: + Oh! islanders of Ithaca, we will not wander more, + Surely, surely, slumber is more sweet than toil, the shore + Than labour in the ocean, and rowing with the oar, + Oh! islanders of Ithaca, we will return no more. + + + + +XXXIX + +=A Dream of Fair Women= + +[In the 1833 volume the poem opened with the following four verses, +suppressed after 1842. These Fitz Gerald considered made 'a perfect +poem by themselves.'] + + As when a man, that sails in a balloon, + Downlooking sees the solid shining ground + Stream from beneath him in the broad blue noon, + Tilth, hamlet, mead and mound: + + And takes his flags and waves them to the mob + That shout below, all faces turned to where + Glows rubylike the far-up crimson globe, + Filled with a finer air: + + So, lifted high, the poet at his will + Lets the great world flit from him, seeing all, + Higher thro' secret splendours mounting still, + Self-poised, nor fears to fall. + + Hearing apart the echoes of his fame. + While I spoke thus, the seedsman, Memory, + Sowed my deep-furrowed thought with many a name + Whose glory will not die. + + + + +=Miscellaneous Poems and Contributions to Periodicals= +=1833-1868= + + + + +XL + +=Cambridge= + +[This poem is written in pencil on the fly-leaf of a copy of _Poems_ +1833 in the Dyce Collection in South Kensington Museum. Reprinted with +many alterations in _Life_, vol. I, p. 67.] + + Therefore your halls, your ancient colleges, + Your portals statued with old kings and queens, + Your bridges and your busted libraries, + Wax-lighted chapels and rich carved screens, + Your doctors and your proctors and your deans + Shall not avail you when the day-beam sports + New-risen o'er awakened Albion--No, + Nor yet your solemn organ-pipes that blow + Melodious thunders through your vacant courts + At morn and even; for your manner sorts + Not with this age, nor with the thoughts that roll, + Because the words of little children preach + Against you,--ye that did profess to teach + And have taught nothing, feeding on the soul. + + + + +XLI + +=The Germ of 'Maud'= + +[There was published in 1837 in _The Tribute_, (a collection of +original poems by various authors, edited by Lord Northampton), a +contribution by Tennyson entitled 'Stanzas,' consisting of xvi stanzas +of varying lengths (110 lines in all). In 1855 the first xii stanzas +were published as the fourth section of the second part of 'Maud.' +Some verbal changes and transpositions of lines were made; a new +stanza (the present sixth) and several new lines were introduced, and +the xth stanza of 1837 became the xiiith of 1855. But stanzas xiii-xvi +of 1837 have never been reprinted in any edition of Tennyson's works, +though quoted in whole or part in various critical studies of the +poet. Swinburne refers to this poem as 'the poem of deepest charm and +fullest delight of pathos and melody ever written, even by Mr +Tennyson.' This poem in _The Tribute_ gained Tennyson his first notice +in the _Edinburgh Review_, which had till then ignored him.] + + XIII + + But she tarries in her place + And I paint the beauteous face + Of the maiden, that I lost, + In my inner eyes again, + Lest my heart be overborne, + By the thing I hold in scorn, + By a dull mechanic ghost + And a juggle of the brain. + + XIV + + I can shadow forth my bride + As I knew her fair and kind + As I woo'd her for my wife; + She is lovely by my side + In the silence of my life-- + 'Tis a phantom of the mind. + + XV + + 'Tis a phantom fair and good + I can call it to my side, + So to guard my life from ill, + Tho' its ghastly sister glide + And be moved around me still + With the moving of the blood + That is moved not of the will. + + XVI + + Let it pass, the dreary brow, + Let the dismal face go by, + Will it lead me to the grave? + Then I lose it: it will fly: + Can it overlast the nerves? + Can it overlive the eye? + But the other, like a star, + Thro' the channel windeth far + Till it fade and fail and die, + To its Archetype that waits + Clad in light by golden gates, + Clad in light the Spirit waits + To embrace me in the sky. + + + + +XLII + +[On the fly-leaf of a book illustrated by Bewick, in the library of +the late Lord Ravensworth, the following lines in Tennyson's autograph +were discovered in 1903.] + + A gate and a field half ploughed, + A solitary cow, + A child with a broken slate, + And a titmarsh in the bough. + But where, alack, is Bewick + To tell the meaning now? + + + + +XLIII + +=The Skipping-Rope= + +[This poem, published in the second volume of _Poems by Alfred +Tennyson_ (in two volumes, London, Edward Moxon, MDCCCXLII), was +reprinted in every edition until 1851, when it was suppressed.] + + Sure never yet was Antelope + Could skip so lightly by. + Stand off, or else my skipping-rope + Will hit you in the eye. + How lightly whirls the skipping-rope! + How fairy-like you fly! + Go, get you gone, you muse and mope-- + I hate that silly sigh. + Nay, dearest, teach me how to hope, + Or tell me how to die. + There, take it, take my skipping-rope + And hang yourself thereby. + + + + +XLIV + +=The New Timon and the Poets= + +[From _Punch_, February 28, 1846. Bulwer Lytton published in 1845 his +satirical poem 'New Timon: a Romance of London,' in which he bitterly +attacked Tennyson for the civil list pension granted the previous +year, particularly referring to the poem 'O Darling Room' in the 1833 +volume. Tennyson replied in the following vigorous verses, which made +the literary sensation of the year. Tennyson afterwards declared: 'I +never sent my lines to _Punch_. John Forster did. They were too +bitter. I do not think that I should ever have published +them.'--_Life_, vol. I, p. 245.] + + We know him, out of Shakespeare's art, + And those fine curses which he spoke; + The old Timon, with his noble heart, + That, strongly loathing, greatly broke. + + So died the Old: here comes the New: + Regard him: a familiar face: + I _thought_ we knew him: What, it's you + The padded man--that wears the stays-- + + Who killed the girls and thrill'd the boys + With dandy pathos when you wrote, + A Lion, you, that made a noise, + And shook a mane en papillotes. + + And once you tried the Muses too: + You fail'd, Sir: therefore now you turn, + You fall on those who are to you + As captain is to subaltern. + + But men of long enduring hopes, + And careless what this hour may bring, + Can pardon little would-be Popes + And Brummels, when they try to sting. + + An artist, Sir, should rest in art, + And wave a little of his claim; + To have the deep poetic heart + Is more than all poetic fame. + + But you, Sir, you are hard to please; + You never look but half content: + Nor like a gentleman at ease + With moral breadth of temperament. + + And what with spites and what with fears, + You cannot let a body be: + It's always ringing in your ears, + 'They call this man as good as _me_.' + + What profits now to understand + The merits of a spotless shirt-- + A dapper boot--a little hand-- + If half the little soul is dirt? + + _You_ talk of tinsel! why we see + The old mark of rouge upon your cheeks. + _You_ prate of nature! you are he + That spilt his life about the cliques. + + A Timon you! Nay, nay, for shame: + It looks too arrogant a jest-- + The fierce old man--to take _his_ name + You bandbox. Off, and let him rest. + + + + +XLV + +=Mablethorpe= + +[Published in _Manchester Athænaum Album_, 1850. Written, 1837. +Republished, altered, in _Life_, vol. I, p. 161.] + + How often, when a child I lay reclined, + I took delight in this locality! + Here stood the infant Ilion of the mind, + And here the Grecian ships did seem to be. + + And here again I come and only find + The drain-cut levels of the marshy lea,-- + Gray sand banks and pale sunsets--dreary wind, + Dim shores, dense rains, and heavy clouded sea. + + + + +XLVI + +[Published in _The Keepsake for 1851: an illustrated annual_, edited +by Miss Power. London: David Bogue. To this issue of the Keepsake +Tennyson also contributed 'Come not when I am dead' now included in +the collected Works.] + + What time I wasted youthful hours + One of the shining wingèd powers, + Show'd me vast cliffs with crown of towers, + + As towards the gracious light I bow'd, + They seem'd high palaces and proud, + Hid now and then with sliding cloud. + + He said, 'The labour is not small; + Yet winds the pathway free to all:-- + Take care thou dost not fear to fall!' + + + + +XLVII + +=Britons, Guard your Own= + +[Published in _The Examiner_, January 31, 1852. Verses 1 (considerably +altered), 7, 8 and 10, are reprinted in Life, vol. I, p. 344.] + + Rise, Britons, rise, if manhood be not dead; + The world's last tempest darkens overhead; + The Pope has bless'd him; + The Church caress'd him; + He triumphs; maybe, we shall stand alone: + Britons, guard your own. + + His ruthless host is bought with plunder'd gold, + By lying priest's the peasant's votes controlled. + All freedom vanish'd, + The true men banished, + He triumphs; maybe, we shall stand alone. + Britons, guard your own. + + Peace-lovers we--sweet Peace we all desire-- + Peace-lovers we--but who can trust a liar?-- + Peace-lovers, haters + Of shameless traitors, + We hate not France, but this man's heart of stone. + Britons, guard your own. + + We hate not France, but France has lost her voice + This man is France, the man they call her choice. + By tricks and spying, + By craft and lying, + And murder was her freedom overthrown. + Britons, guard your own. + + 'Vive l'Empereur' may follow by and bye; + 'God save the Queen' is here a truer cry. + God save the Nation, + The toleration, + And the free speech that makes a Briton known. + Britons, guard your own. + + Rome's dearest daughter now is captive France, + The Jesuit laughs, and reckoning on his chance, + Would, unrelenting, + Kill all dissenting, + Till we were left to fight for truth alone. + Britons, guard your own. + + Call home your ships across Biscayan tides, + To blow the battle from their oaken sides. + Why waste they yonder + Their idle thunder? + Why stay they there to guard a foreign throne? + Seamen, guard your own. + + We were the best of marksmen long ago, + We won old battles with our strength, the bow. + Now practise, yeomen, + Like those bowmen, + Till your balls fly as their true shafts have flown. + Yeomen, guard your own. + + His soldier-ridden Highness might incline + To take Sardinia, Belgium, or the Rhine: + Shall we stand idle, + Nor seek to bridle + His vile aggressions, till we stand alone? + Make their cause your own. + + Should he land here, and for one hour prevail, + There must no man go back to bear the tale: + No man to bear it-- + Swear it! We swear it! + Although we fought the banded world alone, + We swear to guard our own. + + + + +XLVIII + +=Hands all Round= + +[Published in _The Examiner_, February 7, 1852. Reprinted, slightly +altered, in Life, vol. I, p. 345. Included, almost entirely +re-written, in collected Works.] + + First drink a health, this solemn night, + A health to England, every guest; + That man's the best cosmopolite + Who loves his native country best. + May Freedom's oak for ever live + With stronger life from day to day; + That man's the best Conservative + Who lops the mouldered branch away. + Hands all round! + God the tyrant's hope confound! + To this great cause of Freedom drink, my friends, + And the great name of England round and round. + + A health to Europe's honest men! + Heaven guard them from her tyrants' jails! + From wronged Poerio's noisome den, + From iron limbs and tortured nails! + We curse the crimes of Southern kings, + The Russian whips and Austrian rods-- + We likewise have our evil things; + Too much we make our Ledgers, Gods. + Yet hands all round! + God the tyrant's cause confound! + To Europe's better health we drink, my friends, + And the great name of England round and round. + + What health to France, if France be she + Whom martial progress only charms? + Yet tell her--better to be free + Than vanquish all the world in arms. + Her frantic city's flashing heats + But fire, to blast the hopes of men. + Why change the titles of your streets? + You fools, you'll want them all again. + Hands all round! + God the tyrant's cause confound! + To France, the wiser France, we drink, my friends, + And the great name of England round and round. + + Gigantic daughter of the West, + We drink to thee across the flood, + We know thee most, we love thee best, + For art thou not of British blood? + Should war's mad blast again be blown, + Permit not thou the tyrant powers + To fight thy mother here alone, + But let thy broadsides roar with ours. + Hands all round! + God the tyrant's cause confound! + To our great kinsmen of the West, my friends, + And the great name of England round and round. + + O rise, our strong Atlantic sons, + When war against our freedom springs! + O speak to Europe through your guns! + They _can_ be understood by kings. + You must not mix our Queen with those + That wish to keep their people fools; + Our freedom's foemen are her foes, + She comprehends the race she rules. + Hands all round! + God the tyrant's cause confound! + To our dear kinsmen of the West, my friends, + And the great name of England round and round. + + + + +XLIX + +=Suggested by Reading an Article in a Newspaper= + +[Published in _The Examiner_, February 14, 1852, and never reprinted +nor acknowledged. The proof sheets of the poem, with alterations in +Tennyson's autograph, were offered for public sale in 1906.] + +To the Editor of _The Examiner_. + +SIR,--I have read with much interest the poems of Merlin. The enclosed +is longer than either of those, and certainly not so good: yet as I +flatter myself that it has a smack of Merlin's style in it, and as I +feel that it expresses forcibly enough some of the feelings of our +time, perhaps you may be induced to admit it. + +TALIESSEN. + + + How much I love this writer's manly style! + By such men led, our press had ever been + The public conscience of our noble isle, + Severe and quick to feel a civic sin, + To raise the people and chastise the times + With such a heat as lives in great creative rhymes. + + O you, the Press! what good from you might spring! + What power is yours to blast a cause or bless! + I fear for you, as for some youthful king, + Lest you go wrong from power in excess. + Take heed of your wide privileges! we + The thinking men of England, loathe a tyranny. + + A freeman is, I doubt not, freest here; + The single voice may speak his mind aloud; + An honest isolation need not fear + The Court, the Church, the Parliament, the crowd. + No, nor the Press! and look you well to that-- + We must not dread in you the nameless autocrat. + + And you, dark Senate of the public pen, + You may not, like yon tyrant, deal in spies. + Yours are the public acts of public men, + But yours are not their household privacies. + I grant you one of the great Powers on earth, + But be not you the blatant traitors of the hearth. + + You hide the hand that writes: it must be so, + For better so you fight for public ends; + But some you strike can scarce return the blow; + You should be all the nobler, O my friends. + Be noble, you! nor work with faction's tools + To charm a lower sphere of fulminating fools. + + But knowing all your power to heat or cool, + To soothe a civic wound or keep it raw, + Be loyal, if you wish for wholesome rule: + Our ancient boast is this--we reverence law. + We still were loyal in our wildest fights, + Or loyally disloyal battled for our rights. + + O Grief and Shame if while I preach of laws + Whereby to guard our Freedom from offence-- + And trust an ancient manhood and the cause + Of England and her health of commonsense-- + There hang within the heavens a dark disgrace, + Some vast Assyrian doom to burst upon our race. + + I feel the thousand cankers of our State, + I fain would shake their triple-folded ease, + The hogs who can believe in nothing great, + Sneering bedridden in the down of Peace + Over their scrips and shares, their meats and wine, + With stony smirks at all things human and divine! + + I honour much, I say, this man's appeal. + We drag so deep in our commercial mire, + We move so far from greatness, that I feel + Exception to be character'd in fire. + Who looks for Godlike greatness here shall see + The British Goddess, sleek Respectability. + + Alas for her and all her small delights! + She feels not how the social frame is rack'd. + She loves a little scandal which excites; + A little feeling is a want of tact. + For her there lie in wait millions of foes, + And yet the 'not too much' is all the rule she knows. + + Poor soul! behold her: what decorous calm! + She, with her week-day worldliness sufficed, + Stands in her pew and hums her decent psalm + With decent dippings at the name of Christ! + And she has mov'd in that smooth way so long, + She hardly can believe that she shall suffer wrong. + + Alas, our Church! alas, her growing ills, + And those who tolerate not her tolerance, + But needs must sell the burthen of their wills + To that half-pagan harlot kept by France! + Free subjects of the kindliest of all thrones, + Headlong they plunge their doubts among old rags and bones. + + Alas, Church writers, altercating tribes-- + The vessel and your Church may sink in storms. + Christ cried: Woe, woe, to Pharisees and Scribes! + Like them, you bicker less for truth than forms. + I sorrow when I read the things you write, + What unheroic pertness! what un-Christian spite! + + Alas, our youth, so clever yet so small, + Thin dilletanti deep in nature's plan, + Who make the emphatic One, by whom is all, + An essence less concentred than a man! + Better wild Mahmoud's war-cry once again! + O fools, we want a manlike God and Godlike men! + + Go, frightful omens. Yet once more I turn + To you that mould men's thoughts; I call on you + To make opinion warlike, lest we learn + A sharper lesson than we ever knew. + I hear a thunder though the skies are fair, + But shrill you, loud and long, the warning-note: + Prepare! + + + + +L + +[Lord Tennyson wrote, by Royal request, two stanzas which were sung as +part of _God Save the Queen_ at a State concert in connection with the +Princess Royal's marriage: these were printed in the _Times_ of +January 26, 1858.] + + God bless our Prince and Bride! + God keep their lands allied, + God save the Queen! + Clothe them with righteousness, + Crown them with happiness, + Them with all blessings bless, + God save the Queen. + + Fair fall this hallow'd hour, + Farewell our England's flower, + God save the Queen! + Farewell, fair rose of May! + Let both the peoples say, + God bless thy marriage-day, + God bless the Queen. + + + + +LI + +=The Ringlet= + +[Published in _Enoch Arden_ volume (London: E. Moxon & Co, 1864) and +never reprinted.] + + 'Your ringlets, your ringlets, + That look so golden-gay, + If you will give me one, but one, + To kiss it night and day, + Then never chilling touch of Time + Will turn it silver-gray; + And then shall I know it is all true gold + To flame and sparkle and stream as of old, + Till all the comets in heaven are cold, + And all her stars decay.' + 'Then take it, love, and put it by; + This cannot change, nor yet can I.' + + 'My ringlet, my ringlet, + That art so golden-gay, + Now never chilling touch of Time + Can turn thee silver-gray; + And a lad may wink, and a girl may hint, + And a fool may say his say; + For my doubts and fears were all amiss, + And I swear henceforth by this and this, + That a doubt will only come for a kiss, + And a fear to be kissed away.' + 'Then kiss it, love, and put it by: + If this can change, why so can I.' + + O Ringlet, O Ringlet, + I kiss'd you night and day, + And Ringlet, O Ringlet, + You still are golden-gay, + But Ringlet, O Ringlet, + You should be silver-gray: + For what is this which now I'm told, + I that took you for true gold, + She that gave you's bought and sold, + Sold, sold. + + O Ringlet, O Ringlet, + She blush'd a rosy red, + When Ringlet, O Ringlet, + She clipt you from her head, + And Ringlet, O Ringlet, + She gave you me, and said, + 'Come, kiss it, love, and put it by: + If this can change, why so can I.' + O fie, you golden nothing, fie + You golden lie. + + O Ringlet, O Ringlet, + I count you much to blame, + For Ringlet, O Ringlet, + You put me much to shame, + So Ringlet, O Ringlet, + I doom you to the flame. + For what is this which now I learn, + Has given all my faith a turn? + Burn, you glossy heretic, burn, + Burn, burn. + + + + +LII + +=Song= + +[This first form of the Song in _The Princess_ ('Home they brought her +warrior dead') was published only in _Selections from Tennyson_. +London: E. Moxon & Co, 1864.] + + Home they brought him slain with spears. + They brought him home at even-fall: + All alone she sits and hears + Echoes in his empty hall, + Sounding on the morrow. + + The Sun peeped in from open field, + The boy began to leap and prance, + Rode upon his father's lance, + Beat upon his father's shield-- + 'Oh hush, my joy, my sorrow.' + + + + +LIII + +=1865-1866= + +[Published in _Good Words_ for March 1, 1868 as a decorative page, +with an accompanying full page plate by T. Dalziel. The lines were +never reprinted.] + + I stood on a tower in the wet, + And New Year and Old Year met, + And winds were roaring and blowing; + And I said, 'O years that meet in tears, + Have ye aught that is worth the knowing? + + 'Science enough and exploring + Wanderers coming and going + Matter enough for deploring + But aught that is worth the knowing?' + + Seas at my feet were flowing + Waves on the shingle pouring, + Old Year roaring and blowing + And New Year blowing and roaring. + + + + +=The Lover's Tale= +1833 + +[It was originally intended by Tennyson that this poem should +form part of his 1833 volume. It was put in type and, according to +custom, copies were distributed among his friends, when, on the eve of +publication, he decided to omit it. Again, in 1869, it was sent to +press with a new third part added, and was again withdrawn, the third +part only--'The Golden Supper,' founded on a story in Boccaccio's +_Decameron_--being published in the volume, 'The Holy Grail.' In 1866, +1870 and 1875, attempts had been made by Mr Herne Shepherd to publish +editions of 'The Lover's Tale,' reprinted from stray proof copies of +the 1833 printing. Each of these attempts was repressed by Tennyson, +and at last in 1879 the complete poem, as now included in the +collected Works, was issued, with an apologetic reference to the +necessity of reprinting the poem to prevent its circulation in an +unauthorised form. But the 1879 issue is considerably altered from the +original issue of 1833, as written by Tennyson in his nineteenth year. +Since only as a product of Tennyson's youth does the poem merit any +attention, it has seemed good to reprint it here as originally +written.] + +A FRAGMENT + +The Poem of the Lover's Tale (the lover is supposed to be himself a +poet) was written in my nineteenth year, and consequently contains +nearly as many faults as words. That I deemed it not wholly unoriginal +is my only apology for its publication--an apology lame and poor, and +somewhat impertinent to boot: so that if its infirmities meet with +more laughter than charity in the world, I shall not raise my voice in +its defence. I am aware how deficient the Poem is in point of art, and +it is not without considerable misgivings that I have ventured to +publish even this fragment of it. 'Enough,' says the old proverb, 'is +as good as a feast.'--(Tennyson's original introductory note.) + + Here far away, seen from the topmost cliff, + Filling with purple gloom the vacancies + Between the tufted hills the sloping seas + Hung in mid-heaven, and half-way down rare sails, + White as white clouds, floated from sky to sky. + Oh! pleasant breast of waters, quiet bay, + Like to a quiet mind in the loud world, + Where the chafed breakers of the outer sea + Sunk powerless, even as anger falls aside, + And withers on the breast of peaceful love, + Thou didst receive that belt of pines, that fledged + The hills that watch'd thee, as Love watcheth Love,-- + In thine own essence, and delight thyself + To make it wholly thine on sunny days. + Keep thou thy name of 'Lover's bay': See, Sirs, + Even now the Goddess of the Past, that takes + The heart, and sometimes toucheth but one string, + That quivers, and is silent, and sometimes + Sweeps suddenly all its half-moulder'd chords + To an old melody, begins to play + On those first-moved fibres of the brain. + I come, Great mistress of the ear and eye: + Oh! lead me tenderly, for fear the mind + Rain thro' my sight, and strangling sorrow weigh + Mine utterance with lameness. Tho' long years + Have hallowed out a valley and a gulf + Betwixt the native land of Love and me, + Breathe but a little on me, and the sail + Will draw me to the rising of the sun, + The lucid chambers of the morning star, + And East of life. + Permit me, friend, I prithee, + To pass my hand across my brows, and muse + On those dear hills, that nevermore will meet + The sight that throbs and aches beneath my touch, + As tho' there beat a heart in either eye; + For when the outer lights are darken'd thus, + The memory's vision hath a keener edge. + It grows upon me now--the semicircle + Of dark blue waters and the narrow fringe + Of curving beach--its wreaths of dripping green-- + Its pale pink shells--the summer-house aloft + That open'd on the pines with doors of glass, + A mountain nest the pleasure boat that rock'd + Light-green with its own shadow, keel to keel, + Upon the crispings of the dappled waves + That blanched upon its side. + O Love, O Hope, + They come, they crowd upon me all at once, + Moved from the cloud of unforgotten things, + That sometimes on the horizon of the mind + Lies folded--often sweeps athwart in storm-- + They flash across the darkness of my brain, + The many pleasant days, the moolit nights, + The dewy dawnings and the amber eyes, + When thou and I, Camilla, thou and I + Were borne about the bay, or safely moor'd + Beneath some low brow'd cavern, where the wave + Plash'd sapping its worn ribs (the while without, + And close above us, sang the wind-tost pine, + And shook its earthly socket, for we heard, + In rising and in falling with the tide, + Close by our ears, the huge roots strain and creak), + Eye feeding upon eye with deep intent; + And mine, with love too high to be express'd + Arrested in its sphere, and ceasing from + All contemplation of all forms, did pause + To worship mine own image, laved in light, + The centre of the splendours, all unworthy + Of such a shrine--mine image in her eyes, + By diminution made most glorious, + Moved with their motions, as those eyes were moved + With motions of the soul, as my heart beat + Twice to the melody of hers. Her face + Was starry-fair, not pale, tenderly flush'd + As 'twere with dawn. She was dark-hair'd, dark-eyed; + Oh, such dark eyes! A single glance of them + Will govern a whole life from birth to death, + Careless of all things else, led on with light + In trances and in visions: look at them, + You lose yourself in utter ignorance, + You cannot find their depth; for they go back, + And farther back, and still withdraw themselves + Quite into the deep soul, that evermore, + Fresh springing from her fountains in the brain, + Still pouring thro', floods with redundant light + Her narrow portals. + + Trust me, long ago + I should have died, if it were possible + To die in gazing on that perfectness + Which I do bear within me; I had died + But from my farthest lapse, my latest ebb, + Thine image, like a charm of light and strength + Upon the waters, pushed me back again + On these deserted sands of barren life. + Tho' from the deep vault, where the heart of hope + Fell into dust, and crumbled in the dark-- + Forgetting who to render beautiful + Her countenance with quick and healthful blood-- + Thou didst not sway me upward, could I perish + With such a costly casket in the grasp + Of memory? He, that saith it, hath o'erstepp'd + The slippery footing of his narrow wit, + And fall'n away from judgment. Thou art light, + To which my spirit leaneth all her flowers, + And length of days, and immortality + Of thought, and freshness ever self-renew'd. + For Time and Grief abode too long with Life, + And like all other friends i' the world, at last + They grew aweary of her fellowship: + So Time and Grief did beckon unto Death, + And Death drew nigh and beat the doors of Life; + But thou didst sit alone in the inner house, + A wakeful port'ress and didst parle with Death, + 'This is a charmed dwelling which I hold'; + So Death gave back, and would no further come. + Yet is my life nor in the present time, + Nor in the present place. To me alone, + Pushed from his chair of regal heritage, + The Present is the vassal of the Past: + So that, in that I _have_ lived, do I live, + And cannot die, and am, in having been, + A portion of the pleasant yesterday, + Thrust forward on to-day and out of place; + A body journeying onward, sick with toil, + The lithe limbs bow'd as with a heavy weight + And all the senses weaken'd in all save that + Which, long ago, they had glean'd and garner'd up + Into the granaries of memory-- + The clear brow, bulwark of the precious brain, + Now seam'd and chink'd with years--and all the while + The light soul twines and mingles with the growths + Of vigorous early days, attracted, won, + Married, made one with, molten into all + The beautiful in Past of act or place. + Even as the all-enduring camel, driven + Far from the diamond fountain by the palms, + Toils onward thro' the middle moonlight nights, + Shadow'd and crimson'd with the drifting dust, + Or when the white heats of the blinding noons + Beat from the concave sand; yet in him keeps + A draught of that sweet fountain that he loves, + To stay his feet from falling, and his spirit + From bitterness of death. + + Ye ask me, friends, + When I began to love. How should I tell ye? + Or from the after fulness of my heart, + Flow back again unto my slender spring + And first of love, tho' every turn and depth + Between is clearer in my life than all + Its present flow. Ye know not what ye ask. + How should the broad and open flower tell + What sort of bud it was, when press'd together + In its green sheath, close lapt in silken folds? + It seemed to keep its sweetness to itself, + Yet was not the less sweet for that it seem'd. + For young Life knows not when young Life was born, + But takes it all for granted: neither Love, + Warm in the heart, his cradle can remember + Love in the womb, but resteth satisfied, + Looking on her that brought him to the light: + Or as men know not when they fall asleep + Into delicious dreams, our other life, + So know I not when I began to love. + This is my sum of knowledge--that my love + Grew with myself--and say rather, was my growth, + My inward sap, the hold I have on earth, + My outward circling air wherein I breathe, + Which yet upholds my life, and evermore + Was to me daily life and daily death: + For how should I have lived and not have loved? + Can ye take off the sweetness from the flower, + The colour and the sweetness from the rose, + And place them by themselves? or set apart + Their motions and their brightness from the stars, + And then point out the flower or the star? + Or build a wall betwixt my life and love, + And tell me where I am? 'Tis even thus: + In that I live I love; because I love + I live: whate'er is fountain to the one + Is fountain to the other; and whene'er + Our God unknits the riddle of the one, + There is no shade or fold of mystery + Swathing the other. + + Many, many years, + For they seem many and my most of life, + And well I could have linger'd in that porch, + So unproportioned to the dwelling place, + In the maydews of childhood, opposite + The flush and dawn of youth, we lived together, + Apart, alone together on those hills. + Before he saw my day my father died, + And he was happy that he saw it not: + But I and the first daisy on his grave + From the same clay came into light at once. + As Love and I do number equal years + So she, my love, is of an age with me. + How like each other was the birth of each! + The sister of my mother--she that bore + Camilla close beneath her beating heart, + Which to the imprisoned spirit of the child, + With its true touched pulses in the flow + And hourly visitation of the blood, + Sent notes of preparation manifold, + And mellow'd echoes of the outer world-- + My mother's sister, mother of my love, + Who had a twofold claim upon my heart, + One twofold mightier than the other was, + In giving so much beauty to the world, + And so much wealth as God had charged her with, + Loathing to put it from herself for ever, + Crown'd with her highest act the placid face + And breathless body of her good deeds past. + So we were born, so orphan'd. She was motherless, + And I without a father. So from each + Of those two pillars which from earth uphold + Our childhood, one had fall'n away, and all + The careful burthen of our tender years + Trembled upon the other. He that gave + Her life, to me delightedly fulfill'd + All loving-kindnesses, all offices + Of watchful care and trembling tenderness. + He worked for both: he pray'd for both: he slept + Dreaming of both; nor was his love the less + Because it was divided, and shot forth + Boughs on each side, laden with wholesome shade, + Wherein we rested sleeping or awake, + And sung aloud the matin-song of life. + + She was my foster-sister: on one arm + The flaxen ringlets of our infancies + Wander'd, the while we rested: one soft lap + Pillow'd us both: one common light of eyes + Was on us as we lay: our baby lips, + Kissing one bosom, ever drew from thence + The stream of life, one stream, one life, one blood, + One sustenance, which, still as thought grew large, + Still larger moulding all the house of thought, + Perchance assimilated all our tastes + And future fancies. 'Tis a beautiful + And pleasant meditation, what whate'er + Our general mother meant for me alone, + Our mutual mother dealt to both of us: + So what was earliest mine in earliest life, + I shared with her in whom myself remains. + As was our childhood, so our infancy, + They tell me, was a very miracle + Of fellow-feeling and communion. + They tell me that we would not be alone,-- + We cried when we were parted; when I wept, + Her smile lit up the rainbow on my tears, + Stay'd on the clouds of sorrow; that we loved + The sound of one another's voices more + Than the grey cuckoo loves his name, and learn'd + To lisp in tune together; that we slept + In the same cradle always, face to face, + Heart beating time to heart, lip pressing lip, + Folding each other, breathing on each other, + Dreaming together (dreaming of each other + They should have added) till the morning light + Sloped thro' the pines, upon the dewy pane + Falling, unseal'd our eyelids, and we woke + To gaze upon each other. If this be true, + At thought of which my whole soul languishes + And faints, and hath no pulse, no breath, as tho' + A man in some still garden should infuse + Rich attar in the bosom of the rose, + Till, drunk with its own wine and overfull + Of sweetness, and in smelling of itself, + It fall on its own thorns--if this be true-- + And that way my wish leaneth evermore + Still to believe it--'tis so sweet a thought, + Why in the utter stillness of the soul + Doth question'd memory answer not, nor tell, + Of this our earliest, our closest drawn, + Most loveliest, most delicious union? + Oh, happy, happy outset of my days! + Green springtide, April promise, glad new year + Of Being, which with earliest violets, + And lavish carol of clear-throated larks, + Fill'd all the march of life.--I will not speak of thee; + These have not seen thee, these can never know thee, + They cannot understand me. Pass on then + A term of eighteen years. Ye would but laugh + If I should tell ye how I heard in thought + Those rhymes, 'The Lion and the Unicorn' + 'The Four-and-twenty Blackbirds' 'Banbury Cross,' + 'The Gander' and 'The man of Mitylene,' + And all the quaint old scraps of ancient crones, + Which are as gems set in my memory, + Because she learn'd them with me. Or what profits it + To tell ye that her father died, just ere + The daffodil was blown; or how we found + The drowned seaman on the shore? These things + Unto the quiet daylight of your minds + Are cloud and smoke, but in the dark of mine + Show traced with flame. Move with me to that hour, + Which was the hinge on which the door of Hope, + Once turning, open'd far into the outward, + And never closed again. + + I well remember, + It was a glorious morning, such a one + As dawns but once a season. Mercury + On such a morning would have flung himself + From cloud to cloud, and swum with balanced wings + To some tall mountain. On that day the year + First felt his youth and strength, and from his spring + Moved smiling toward his summer. On that day, + Love working shook his wings (that charged the winds + With spiced May-sweets from bound to bound) and blew + Fresh fire into the sun, and from within + Burst thro' the heated buds, and sent his soul + Into the songs of birds, and touch'd far-off + His mountain-altars, his high hills, with flame + Milder and purer. Up the rocks we wound; + The great pine shook with lovely sounds of joy, + That came on the sea-wind. As mountain brooks + Our blood ran free: the sunshine seem'd to brood + More warmly on the heart than on the brow. + We often paused, and looking back, we saw + The clefts and openings in the hills all fill'd + With the blue valley and the glistening brooks, + And with the low dark groves--a land of Love; + Where Love was worshipp'd upon every height, + Where Love was worshipp'd under every tree-- + A land of promise, flowing with the milk + And honey of delicious memories + Down to the sea, as far as eye could ken, + From verge to verge it was a holy land, + Still growing holier as you near'd the bay, + For where the temple stood. When we had reach'd + The grassy platform on some hill, I stoop'd, + I gather'd the wild herbs, and for her brows + And mine wove chaplets of the self-same flower, + Which she took smiling, and with my work there + Crown'd her clear forehead. Once or twice she told me + (For I remember all things), to let grow + The flowers that run poison in their veins. + She said, 'The evil flourish in the world'; + Then playfully she gave herself the lie: + 'Nothing in nature is unbeautiful, + So, brother, pluck and spare not.' So I wove + Even the dull-blooded poppy, 'whose red flower + Hued with the scarlet of a fierce sunrise, + Like to the wild youth of an evil king, + Is without sweetness, but who crowns himself + Above the secret poisons of his heart + In his old age'--a graceful thought of hers + Graven on my fancy! As I said, with these + She crown'd her forehead. O how like a nymph, + A stately mountain-nymph, she look'd! how native + Unto the hills she trod on! What an angel! + How clothed with beams! My eyes, fix'd upon hers, + Almost forgot even to move again. + My spirit leap'd as with those thrills of bliss + That shoot across the soul in prayer, and show us + That we are surely heard. Methought a light + Burst from the garland I had woven, and stood + A solid glory on her bright black hair: + A light, methought, broke from her dark, dark eyes, + And shot itself into the singing winds; + A light, methought, flash'd even from her white robe, + As from a glass in the sun, and fell about + My footsteps on the mountains. + + About sunset + We came unto the hill of woe, so call'd + Because the legend ran that, long time since, + One rainy night, when every wind blew loud, + A woful man had thrust his wife and child + With shouts from off the bridge, and following, plunged + Into the dizzy chasm below. Below, + Sheer thro' the black-wall'd cliff the rapid brook + Shot down his inner thunders, built above + With matted bramble and the shining gloss + Of ivy-leaves, whose low-hung tresses, dipp'd + In the fierce stream, bore downward with the wave. + The path was steep and loosely strewn with crags + We mounted slowly: yet to both of us + It was delight, not hindrance: unto both + Delight from hardship to be overcome, + And scorn of perilous seeming: unto me + Intense delight and rapture that I breathed, + As with a sense of nigher Deity, + With her to whom all outward fairest things + Were by the busy mind referr'd, compared, + As bearing no essential fruits of excellence. + Save as they were the types and shadowings + Of hers--and then that I became to her + A tutelary angel as she rose, + And with a fearful self-impelling joy + Saw round her feet the country far away, + Beyond the nearest mountain's bosky brows, + Burst into open prospect--heath and hill, + And hollow lined and wooded to the lips-- + And steep down walls of battlemented rock + Girded with broom or shiver'd into peaks-- + And glory of broad waters interfused, + Whence rose as it were breath and steam of gold; + And over all the great wood rioting + And climbing, starr'd at slender intervals + With blossom tufts of purest white; and last, + Framing the mighty landskip to the West, + A purple range of purple cones, between + Whose interspaces gush'd, in blinding bursts, + The incorporate light of sun and sea. + + At length, + Upon the tremulous bridge, that from beneath + Seemed with a cobweb firmament to link + The earthquake-shattered chasm, hung with shrubs, + We passed with tears of rapture. All the West, + And even unto the middle South, was ribb'd + And barr'd with bloom on bloom. The sun beneath, + Held for a space 'twixt cloud and wave, shower'd down + Rays of a mighty circle, weaving over + That varied wilderness a tissue of light + Unparallel'd. On the other side the moon, + Half-melted into thin blue air, stood still + And pale and fibrous as a wither'd leaf, + Nor yet endured in presence of his eyes + To imbue his lustre; most unloverlike; + Since in his absence full of light and joy + And giving light to others. But this chiefest, + Next to her presence whom I loved so well, + Spoke loudly, even into my inmost heart, + As to my outward hearing: the loud stream, + Forth issuing from his portals in the crag + (A visible link unto the home of my heart), + Ran amber toward the West, and nigh the sea, + Parting my own loved mountains, was received + Shorn of its strength, into the sympathy + Of that small bay, which into open main + Glow'd intermingling close beneath the sun + Spirit of Love! That little hour was bound, + Shut in from Time, and dedicate to thee; + Thy fires from heav'n had touch'd it, and the earth + They fell on became hallow'd evermore. + + We turn'd: our eyes met: her's were bright, and mine + Were dim with floating tears, that shot the sunset, + In light rings round me; and my name was borne + Upon her breath. Henceforth my name has been + A hallow'd memory, like the names of old; + A center'd, glory-circled memory, + And a peculiar treasure, brooking not + Exchange or currency; and in that hour + A hope flow'd round me, like a golden mist + Charm'd amid eddies of melodious airs, + A moment, ere the onward whirlwind shatter it, + Waver'd and floated--which was less than Hope, + Because it lack'd the power of perfect Hope; + But which was more and higher than all Hope, + Because all other Hope hath lower aim; + Even that this name to which her seraph lips + Did lend such gentle utterance, this one name + In some obscure hereafter, might inwreathe + (How lovelier, nobler then!) her life, her love, + With my life, love, soul, spirit and heart and strength. + + 'Brother,' she said, 'let this be call'd henceforth + The Hill of Hope'; and I replied: 'O sister, + My will is one with thine; the Hill of Hope.' + Nevertheless, we did not change the name. + + Love lieth deep; Love dwells not in lip-depths: + Love wraps her wings on either side the heart, + Constraining it with kisses close and warm, + Absorbing all the incense of sweet thoughts + So that they pass not to the shrine of sound. + Else had the life of that delighted hour + Drunk in the largeness of the utterance + Of Love; but how should earthly measure mete + The heavenly unmeasured or unlimited Love, + Which scarce can tune his high majestic sense + Unto the thunder-song that wheels the spheres; + Scarce living in the Aeolian harmony, + And flowing odour of the spacious air; + Scarce housed in the circle of this earth: + Be cabin'd up in words and syllables, + Which waste with the breath that made 'em. + Sooner earth + Might go round heaven, and the straight girth of Time + Inswathe the fullness of Eternity, + Than language grasp the infinite of Love. + O day, which did enwomb that happy hour, + Thou art blest in the years, divinest day! + O Genius of that hour which dost uphold + Thy coronal of glory like a God, + Amid thy melancholy mates far-seen, + Who walk before thee, and whose eyes are dim + With gazing on the light and depth of thine + Thy name is ever worshipp'd among hours! + Had I died then, I had not seem'd to die + For bliss stood round me like the lights of heaven, + That cannot fade, they are so burning bright. + Had I died then, I had not known the death; + Planting my feet against this mound of time + I had thrown me on the vast, and from this impulse + Continuing and gathering ever, ever, + Agglomerated swiftness, I had lived + That intense moment thro' eternity. + Oh, had the Power from whose right hand the light + Of Life issueth, and from whose left hand floweth + The shadow of Death, perennial effluences, + Whereof to all that draw the wholesome air, + Somewhile the one must overflow the other; + Then had he stemm'd my day with night and driven + My current to the fountain whence it sprang-- + Even his own abiding excellence-- + On me, methinks, that shock of gloom had fall'n + Unfelt, and like the sun I gazed upon, + Which, lapt in seeming dissolution, + And dipping his head low beneath the verge, + Yet bearing round about him his own day, + In confidence of unabated strength, + Steppeth from heaven to heaven, from light to light, + And holding his undimmed forehead far + Into a clearer zenith, pure of cloud; + So bearing on thro' Being limitless + The triumph of this foretaste, I had merged + Glory in glory, without sense of change. + + We trod the shadow of the downward hill; + We pass'd from light to dark. On the other side + Is scooped a cavern and a mountain-hall, + Which none have fathom'd. If you go far in + (The country people rumour) you may hear + The moaning of the woman and the child, + Shut in the secret chambers of the rock. + I too have heard a sound--perchance of streams + Running far-off within its inmost halls, + The home of darkness, but the cavern mouth, + Half overtrailed with a wanton weed + Gives birth to a brawling stream, that stepping lightly + Adown a natural stair of tangled roots, + Is presently received in a sweet grove + Of eglantine, a place of burial + Far lovelier than its cradle; for unseen + But taken with the sweetness of the place, + It giveth out a constant melody + That drowns the nearer echoes. Lower down + Spreads out a little lake, that, flooding, makes + Cushions of yellow sand; and from the woods + That belt it rise three dark tall cypresses; + Three cypresses, symbols of mortal woe, + That men plant over graves. + + Hither we came, + And sitting down upon the golden moss + Held converse sweet and low--low converse sweet, + In which our voices bore least part. The wind + Told a love-tale beside us, how he woo'd + The waters, and the crisp'd waters lisp'd + The kisses of the wind, that, sick with love, + Fainted at intervals, and grew again + To utterance of passion. Ye cannot shape + Fancy so fair as is this memory. + Methought all excellence that ever was + Had drawn herself from many thousand years, + And all the separate Edens of this earth, + To centre in this place and time. I listen'd, + And her words stole with most prevailing sweetness + Into my heart, as thronged fancies come, + All unawares, into the poet's brain; + Or as the dew-drops on the petal hung, + When summer winds break their soft sleep with sighs, + Creep down into the bottom of the flower. + Her words were like a coronal of wild blooms + Strung in the very negligence of Art, + Or in the art of Nature, where each rose + Doth faint upon the bosom of the other, + Flooding its angry cheek with odorous tears. + So each with each inwoven lived with each, + And were in union more than double-sweet. + What marvel my Camilla told me all? + It was so happy an hour, so sweet a place, + And I was as the brother of her blood, + And by that name was wont to live in her speech, + Dear name! which had too much of nearness in it + And heralded the distance of this time. + At first her voice was very sweet and low, + As tho' she were afeard of utterance; + But in the onward current of her speech, + (As echoes of the hollow-banked brooks + Are fashioned by the channel which they keep) + His words did of their meaning borrow sound, + Her cheek did catch the colour of her words, + I heard and trembled, yet I could but hear; + My heart paused,--my raised eyelids would not fall, + But still I kept my eyes upon the sky. + I seem'd the only part of Time stood still, + And saw the motion of all other things; + While her words, syllable by syllable, + Like water, drop by drop, upon my ear + Fell, and I wish'd, yet wish'd her not to speak, + But she spoke on, for I did name no wish. + What marvel my Camilla told me all + Her maiden dignities of Hope and Love, + 'Perchance' she said 'return'd.' Even then the stars + Did tremble in their stations as I gazed; + But she spake on, for I did name no wish, + No wish--no hope. Hope was not wholly dead, + But breathing hard at the approach of Death, + Updrawn in expectation of her change-- + Camilla, my Camilla, who was mine + No longer in the dearest use of mine-- + The written secrets of her inmost soul + Lay like an open scroll before my view, + And my eyes read, they read aright, her heart + Was Lionel's: it seem'd as tho' a link + Of some light chain within my inmost frame + Was riven in twain: that life I heeded not + Flow'd from me, and the darkness of the grave, + The darkness of the grave and utter night, + Did swallow up my vision: at her feet, + Even the feet of her I loved, I fell, + Smit with exceeding sorrow unto death. + + Then had the earth beneath me yawning given + Sign of convulsion; and tho' horrid rifts + Sent up the moaning of unhappy spirits + Imprison'd in her centre, with the heat + Of their infolding element; had the angels, + The watchers at heaven's gate, push'd them apart, + And from the golden threshold had down-roll'd + Their heaviest thunder, I had lain as still, + And blind and motionless as then I lay! + White as quench'd ashes, cold as were the hopes + Of my lorn love! What happy air shall woo + The wither'd leaf fall'n in the woods, or blasted + Upon this bough? a lightning stroke had come + Even from that Heaven in whose light I bloom'd + And taken away the greenness of my life, + The blossom and the fragrance. Who was cursed + But I? who miserable but I? even Misery + Forgot herself in that extreme distress, + And with the overdoing of her part + Did fall away into oblivion. + The night in pity took away my day + Because my grief as yet was newly born, + Of too weak eyes to look upon the light, + And with the hasty notice of the ear, + Frail life was startled from the tender love + Of him she brooded over. Would I had lain + Until the pleached ivy tress had wound + Round my worn limbs, and the wild briar had driven + Its knotted thorns thro' my unpaining brows + Leaning its roses on my faded eyes. + The wind had blown above me, and the rain + Had fall'n upon me, and the gilded snake + Had nestled in this bosomthrone of love, + But I had been at rest for evermore. + Long time entrancement held me: all too soon, + Life (like a wanton too-officious friend + Who will not hear denial, vain and rude + With proffer of unwished for services) + Entering all the avenues of sense, + Pass'd thro' into his citadel, the brain + With hated warmth of apprehensiveness: + And first the chillness of the mountain stream + Smote on my brow, and then I seem'd to hear + Its murmur, as the drowning seaman hears, + Who with his head below the surface dropt, + Listens the dreadful murmur indistinct + Of the confused seas, and knoweth not + Beyond the sound he lists: and then came in + O'erhead the white light of the weary moon, + Diffused and molten into flaky cloud. + Was my sight drunk, that it did shape to me + Him who should own that name? or had my fancy + So lethargised discernment in the sense, + That she did act the step-dame to mine eyes, + Warping their nature, till they minister'd + Unto her swift conceits? 'Twere better thus + If so be that the memory of that sound + With mighty evocation, had updrawn + The fashion and the phantasm of the form + It should attach to. There was no such thing.-- + It was the man she loved, even Lionel, + The lover Lionel, the happy Lionel, + All joy; who drew the happy atmosphere + Of my unhappy sighs, fed with my tears, + To him the honey dews of orient hope. + Oh! rather had some loathly ghastful brow, + Half-bursten from the shroud, in cere cloth bound, + The dead skin withering on the fretted bone, + The very spirit of Paleness made still paler + By the shuddering moonlight, fix'd his eyes on mine + Horrible with the anger and the heat + Of the remorseful soul alive within, + And damn'd unto his loathed tenement. + Methinks I could have sooner met that gaze! + Oh, how her choice did leap forth from his eyes! + Oh, how her love did clothe itself in smiles + About his lips! This was the very arch-mock + And insolence of uncontrolled Fate, + When the effect weigh'd seas upon my head + To twit me with the cause. + Why how was this? + Could he not walk what paths he chose, nor breathe + What airs he pleased! Was not the wide world free, + With all her interchange of hill and plain + To him as well as me? I know not, faith: + But Misery, like a fretful, wayward child, + Refused to look his author in the face, + Must he come my way too? Was not the South, + The East, the West, all open, if he had fall'n + In love in twilight? Why should he come my way, + Robed in those robes of light I must not wear, + With that great crown of beams about his brows? + Come like an angel to a damned soul? + To tell him of the bliss he had with God; + Come like a careless and a greedy heir, + That scarce can wait the reading of the will + Before he takes possession? Was mine a mood + To be invaded rudely, and not rather + A sacred, secret, unapproached woe + Unspeakable? I was shut up with grief; + She took the body of my past delight, + Narded, and swathed and balm'd it for herself, + And laid it in a new-hewn sepulchre, + Where man had never lain. I was led mute + Into her temple like a sacrifice; + I was the high-priest in her holiest place, + Not to be loudly broken in upon. + Oh! friend, thoughts deep and heavy as these well-nigh + O'erbore the limits of my brain; but he + Bent o'er me, and my neck his arm upstay'd + From earth. I thought it was an adder's fold, + And once I strove to disengage myself, + But fail'd, I was so feeble. She was there too: + She bent above me too: her cheek was pale, + Oh! very fair and pale: rare pity had stolen + The living bloom away, as tho' a red rose + Should change into a white one suddenly. + Her eyes, I saw, were full of tears in the morn, + And some few drops of that distressful rain + Being wafted on the wind, drove in my sight, + And being there they did break forth afresh + In a new birth, immingled with my own, + And still bewept my grief. Keeping unchanged + The purport of their coinage. Her long ringlets, + Drooping and beaten with the plaining wind, + Did brush my forehead in their to-and-fro: + For in the sudden anguish of her heart + Loosed from their simple thrall they had flowed abroad, + And onward floating in a full, dark wave, + Parted on either side her argent neck, + Mantling her form half way. She, when I woke, + After my refluent health made tender quest + Unanswer'd, for I spoke not: for the sound + Of that dear voice so musically low, + And now first heard with any sense of pain, + As it had taken life away before, + Choked all the syllables that in my throat + Strove to uprise, laden with mournful thanks, + From my full heart: and ever since that hour, + My voice hath somewhat falter'd--and what wonder + That when hope died, part of her eloquence + Died with her? He, the blissful lover, too, + From his great hoard of happiness distill'd + Some drops of solace; like a vain rich man, + That, having always prosper'd in the world, + Folding his hands deals comfortable words + To hearts wounded for ever; yet, in truth, + Fair speech was his and delicate of phrase, + Falling in whispers on the sense, address'd + More to the inward than the outward ear, + As rain of the midsummer midnight soft + Scarce-heard, recalling fragrance and the green + Of the dead spring--such as in other minds + Had film'd the margents of the recent wound. + And why was I to darken their pure love, + If, as I knew, they two did love each other, + Because my own was darken'd? Why was I + To stand within the level of their hopes, + Because my hope was widow'd, like the cur + In the child's adage? Did I love Camilla? + Ye know that I did love her: to this present + My full-orb'd love hath waned not. Did I love her, + And could I look upon her tearful eyes? + Tears wept for me; for me--weep at my grief? + What had _she_ done to weep--let my heart + Break rather--whom the gentlest airs of heaven + Should kiss with an unwonted gentleness. + Her love did murder mine; what then? she deem'd + I wore a brother's mind: she call'd me brother: + She told me all her love: she shall not weep. + + The brightness of a burning thought awhile + Battailing with the glooms of my dark will, + Moonlike emerged, lit up unto itself, + Upon the depths of an unfathom'd woe, + Reflex of action, starting up at once, + As men do from a vague and horrid dream, + And throwing by all consciousness of self, + In eager haste I shook him by the hand; + Then flinging myself down upon my knees + Even where the grass was warm where I had lain, + I pray'd aloud to God that he would hold + The hand of blessing over Lionel, + And her whom he would make his wedded wife, + Camilla! May their days be golden days, + And their long life a dream of linked love, + From which may rude Death never startle them, + But grow upon them like a glorious vision + Of unconceived and awful happiness, + Solemn but splendid, full of shapes and sounds, + Swallowing its precedent in victory. + Let them so love that men and boys may say, + Lo! how they love each other! till their love + Shall ripen to a proverb unto all, + Known when their faces are forgot in the land. + And as for me, Camilla, as for me, + Think not thy tears will make my name grow green,-- + The dew of tears is an unwholesome dew. + The course of Hope is dried,--the life o' the plant-- + They will but sicken the sick plant more. + Deem then I love thee but as brothers do, + So shalt thou love me still as sisters do; + Or if thou dream'st aught farther, dream but how + I could have loved thee, had there been none else + To love as lovers, loved again by thee. + + Or this, or somewhat like to this, I spoke, + When I did see her weep so ruefully; + For sure my love should ne'er induce the front + And mask of Hate, whom woful ailments + Of unavailing tears and heart deep moans + Feed and envenom, as the milky blood + Of hateful herbs a subtle-fanged snake. + Shall Love pledge Hatred in her bitter draughts, + And batten on his poisons? Love forbid! + Love passeth not the threshold of cold Hate, + And Hate is strange beneath the roof of Love. + O Love, if thou be'st Love, dry up these tears + Shed for the love of Love; for tho' mine image, + The subject of thy power, be cold in her, + Yet, like cold snow, it melteth in the source + Of these sad tears, and feeds their downward flow. + So Love, arraign'd to judgment and to death, + Received unto himself a part of blame. + Being guiltless, as an innocent prisoner, + Who when the woful sentence hath been past, + And all the clearness of his fame hath gone + Beneath the shadow of the curse of men, + First falls asleep in swoon. Wherefrom awaked + And looking round upon his tearful friends, + Forthwith and in his agony conceives + A shameful sense as of a cleaving crime-- + For whence without some guilt should such grief be? + So died that hour, and fell into the abysm + Of forms outworn, but not to be outworn, + Who never hail'd another worth the Life + That made it sensible. So died that hour, + Like odour wrapt into the winged wind + Borne into alien lands and far away. + There be some hearts so airy-fashioned, + That in the death of love, if e'er they loved, + On that sharp ridge of utmost doom ride highly + Above the perilous seas of change and chance; + Nay, more, holds out the lights of cheerfulness; + As the tall ship, that many a dreary year + Knit to some dismal sandbank far at sea, + All through the lifelong hours of utter dark, + Showers slanting light upon the dolorous wave. + For me all other Hopes did sway from that + Which hung the frailest: falling, they fell too, + Crush'd link on link into the beaten earth, + And Love did walk with banish'd Hope no more, + It was ill-done to part ye, Sisters fair; + Love's arms were wreathed about the neck of Hope, + And Hope kiss'd Love, and Love drew in her breath + In that close kiss, and drank her whisper'd tales. + They said that Love would die when Hope was gone, + And Love mourned long, and sorrowed after Hope; + At last she sought out memory, and they trod + The same old paths where Love had walked with Hope, + And Memory fed the soul of Love with tears. + + II + + From that time forth I would not see her more, + But many weary moons I lived alone-- + Alone, and in the heart of the great forest. + Sometimes upon the hills beside the sea + All day I watched the floating isles of shade, + And sometimes on the shore, upon the sands + Insensibly I drew her name, until + The meaning of the letters shot into + My brain: anon the wanton billow wash'd + Them over, till they faded like my love. + The hollow caverns heard me--the black brooks + Of the mid-forest heard me--the soft winds, + Laden with thistledown and seeds of flowers, + Paused in their course to hear me, for my voice + Was all of thee: the merry linnet knew me, + The squirrel knew me, and the dragon-fly + Shot by me like a flash of purple fire. + The rough briar tore my bleeding palms; the hemlock, + Brow high, did strike my forehead as I pas'd; + Yet trod I not the wild-flower in my path, + Nor bruised the wild-bird's egg. + Was this the end? + Why grew we then together i' the same plot? + Why fed we the same fountain? drew the same sun? + Why were our mothers branches of one stem? + Why were we one in all things, save in that + Where to have been one had been the roof and crown + Of all I hoped and fear'd? if that same nearness + Were father to this distance, and that _one_ + Vauntcourier this _double_? If affection + Living slew Love, and Sympathy hew'd out + The bosom-sepulchre of Sympathy. + + Chiefly I sought the cavern and the hill + Where last we roam'd together, for the sound + Of the loud stream was pleasant, and the wind + Came wooingly with violet smells. Sometimes + All day I sat within the cavern-mouth, + Fixing my eyes on those three cypress-cones + Which spired above the wood; and with mad hand + Tearing the bright leaves of the ivy-screen, + I cast them in the noisy brook beneath, + And watch'd them till they vanished from my sight + Beneath the bower of wreathed eglantines: + And all the fragments of the living rock, + (Huge splinters, which the sap of earliest showers, + Or moisture of the vapour, left in clinging, + When the shrill storm-blast feeds it from behind, + And scatters it before, had shatter'd from + The mountain, till they fell, and with the shock + Half dug their own graves), in mine agony, + Did I make bear of all the deep rich moss + Wherewith the dashing runnel in the spring + Had liveried them all over. In my brain + The spirit seem'd to flag from thought to thought, + Like moonlight wandering through a mist: my blood + Crept like the drains of a marsh thro' all my body; + The motions of my heart seem'd far within me, + Unfrequent, low, as tho' it told its pulses; + And yet it shook me, that my frame did shudder, + As it were drawn asunder by the rack. + But over the deep graves of Hope and Fear, + The wreck of ruin'd life and shatter'd thought, + Brooded one master-passion evermore, + Like to a low hung and a fiery sky + Above some great metropolis, earth shock'd + Hung round with ragged-rimmed burning folds, + Embathing all with wild and woful hues-- + Great hills of ruins, and collapsed masses + Of thunder-shaken columns, indistinct + And fused together in the tyrannous light. + + So gazed I on the ruins of that thought + Which was the playmate of my youth--for which + I lived and breathed: the dew, the sun, the rain, + Unto the growth of body and of mind; + The blood, the breath, the feeling and the motion, + The slope into the current of my years, + Which drove them onward--made them sensible; + The precious jewel of my honour'd life, + Erewhile close couch'd in golden happiness, + Now proved counterfeit, was shaken out, + And, trampled on, left to its own decay. + + + + +The Lover's Tale + + Sometimes I thought Camilla was no more, + Some one had told me she was dead, and ask'd me + If I would see her burial: then I seem'd + To rise, and thro' the forest-shadow borne + With more than mortal swiftness, I ran down + The sleepy sea-bank, till I came upon + The rear of a procession, curving round + The silver-sheeted bay: in front of which + Six stately virgins, all in white, upbare + A broad earth-sweeping pall of whitest lawn, + Wreathed round the bier with garlands: in the distance, + From out the yellow woods, upon the hill, + Look'd forth the summit and the pinnacles + Of a grey steeple. All the pageantry, + Save those six virgins which upheld the bier, + Were stoled from head to foot in flowing black; + One walk'd abreast with me, and veiled his brow, + And he was loud in weeping and in praise + Of the departed: a strong sympathy + Shook all my soul: I flung myself upon him + In tears and cries: I told him all my love, + How I had loved her from the first; whereat + He shrunk and howl'd, and from his brow drew back + His hand to push me from him; and the face + The very face and form of Lionel, + Flash'd through my eyes into my innermost brain, + And at his feet I seemed to faint and fall, + To fall and die away. I could not rise, + Albeit I strove to follow. They pass'd on, + The lordly Phantasms; in their floating folds + They pass'd and were no more: but I had fall'n + Prone by the dashing runnel on the grass. + + Always th' inaudible, invisible thought + Artificer and subject, lord and slave + Shaped by the audible and visible, + Moulded the audible and visible; + All crisped sounds of wave, and leaf and wind, + Flatter'd the fancy of my fading brain; + The storm-pavilion'd element, the wood, + The mountain, the three cypresses, the cave, + Were wrought into the tissue of my dream. + The moanings in the forest, the loud stream, + Awoke me not, but were a part of sleep; + And voices in the distance, calling to me, + And in my vision bidding me dream on, + Like sounds within the twilight realms of dreams, + Which wander round the bases of the hills, + And murmur in the low-dropt eaves of sleep, + But faint within the portals. Oftentimes + The vision had fair prelude, in the end + Opening on darkness, stately vestibules + To cares and shows of Death; whether the mind, + With a revenge even to itself unknown, + Made strange division of its suffering + With her, whom to have suffering view'd had been + Extremest pain; or that the clear-eyed Spirit, + Being blasted in the Present, grew at length + Prophetical and prescient of whate'er + The Future had in store; or that which most + Enchains belief, the sorrow of my spirit + Was of so wide a compass it took in + All I had loved, and my dull agony. + Ideally to her transferred, became + Anguish intolerable. + The day waned; + Alone I sat with her: about my brow + Her warm breath floated in the utterance + Of silver-chorded tones: her lips were sunder'd + With smiles of tranquil bliss, which broke in light + Like morning from her eyes--her eloquent eyes + (As I have seen them many hundred times), + Fill'd all with clear pure fire, thro' mine down rain'd + Their spirit-searching splendours. As a vision + Unto a haggard prisoner, iron-stay'd + In damp and dismal dungeons underground + Confined on points of faith, when strength is shock'd + With torment, and expectancy of worse + Upon the morrow, thro' the ragged walls, + All unawares before his half-shut eyes, + Comes in upon him in the dead of night, + And with th' excess of sweetness and of awe, + Makes the heart tremble, and the eyes run over + Upon his steely gyves; so those fair eyes + Shone on my darkness forms which ever stood + Within the magic cirque of memory, + Invisible but deathless, waiting still + The edict of the will to reassume + The semblance of those rare realities + Of which they were the mirrors. Now the light, + Which was their life, burst through the cloud of thought + Keen, irrepressible. + It was a room + Within the summer-house of which I spoke, + Hung round with paintings of the sea, and one + A vessel in mid-ocean, her heaved prow + Clambering, the mast bent, and the revin wind + In her sail roaring. From the outer day, + Betwixt the closest ivies came a broad + And solid beam of isolated light, + Crowded with driving atomies, and fell + Slanting upon that picture, from prime youth + Well-known, well-loved. She drew it long ago + Forth gazing on the waste and open sea, + One morning when the upblown billow ran + Shoreward beneath red clouds, and I had pour'd + Into the shadowing pencil's naked forms + Colour and life: it was a bond and seal + Of friendship, spoken of with tearful smiles; + A monument of childhood and of love, + The poesy of childhood; my lost love + Symbol'd in storm. We gazed on it together + In mute and glad remembrance, and each heart + Grew closer to the other, and the eye + Was riveted and charm-bound, gazing like + The Indian on a still-eyed snake, low crouch'd + A beauty which is death, when all at once + That painted vessel, as with inner life, + 'Gan rock and heave upon that painted sea; + An earthquake, my loud heartbeats, made the ground + Roll under us, and all at once soul, life, + And breath, and motion, pass'd and flow'd away + To those unreal billows: round and round + A whirlwind caught and bore us; mighty gyves, + Rapid and vast, of hissing spray wind-driven + Far through the dizzy dark. Aloud she shriek'd-- + My heart was cloven with pain. I wound my arms + About her: we whirl'd giddily: the wind + Sung: but I clasp'd her without fear: her weight + Shrank in my grasp, and over my dim eyes + And parted lips which drank her breath, down hung + The jaws of Death: I, screaming, from me flung + The empty phantom: all the sway and whirl + Of the storm dropt to windless calm, and I + Down welter'd thro' the dark ever and ever. + + + + +Index to First Lines + + +A gate and a field half ploughed +All thoughts, all creeds, all dreams, are true +Angels have talked with him and showed him thrones +As when a man, that sails in a balloon +Blow ye the trumpets, gather from afar +But she tarries in her place +Check every outflash, every ruder sally +Could I outwear my present state of woe +Ere yet my heart was sweet Love's tomb +Every day hath its night +First drink a health, this solemn night +God bless our Prince and Bride +Heaven weeps above the earth all night +Here far away, seen from the topmost cliff +His eyes in eclipse +Home they brought him slain with spears +How much I love this writer's manly style +How often, when a child I lay reclined +I am any man's suitor +I stood on a tower in the wet +I stood upon the Mountain which o'erlooks +I' the glooming light +Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh +My Rosalind, my Rosalind +O darling room, my heart's delight +Oh, Beauty, passing beauty! sweetest sweet! +Oh, go not yet, my love +O maiden fresher than the first green leaf +O sad _No more_! O sweet _No more_ +O thou whose fringèd lids I gaze upon +Rise, Britons, rise, if manhood be not dead +Sainted Juliet! dearest name +Shall the hag Evil die with the child of Good +Sure never yet was Antelope +The lintwhite and the throstlecock +The Northwind fall'n in the new starréd night +The pallid thunderstricken sigh for gain +There are three things that fill my heart with sighs +Therefore your halls, your ancient colleges +There is no land like England +The varied earth, the moving heaven +Thou, from the first, unborn, undying love +Though Night hath climbed her peak +Two bees within a chrystal flowerbell rockèd +Voice of the summerwind +We have had enough of motion +We know him, out of Shakespeare's art +What time I wasted youthful hours +Where is the Giant of the Sun, which stood +Who can say +Who fears to die? Who fears to die +With roses musky breathed +You cast to ground the hope which once was mine +You did late review my lays +Your ringlets, your ringlets + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Suppressed Poems of Alfred Lord +Tennyson, by Alfred Lord Tennyson + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14094 *** diff --git a/14094-h/14094-h.htm b/14094-h/14094-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..93c4433 --- /dev/null +++ b/14094-h/14094-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4067 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Suppressed Poems of Alfred Lord Tennyson, edited by J.C. Thomson. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + } + HR { width: 60%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + .section {width: 35%;} + + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* footnote */ + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 1em; font-size: smaller; float: right; clear: right;} + .greek {cursor: help;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .title {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em; font-weight: bold;} + .poem .heading {font-weight: bold;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem .line {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem .line2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem .line3 {display: block; margin-left: 3em;} + .poem .line4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .poem .line5 {display: block; margin-left: 5em;} + .poem .line6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em;} + .poem .line8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em;} + .poem .line9 {display: block; margin-left: 9em;} + .poem .line10 {display: block; margin-left: 10em;} + .poem .line12 {display: block; margin-left: 12em;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14094 ***</div> + +<p><a name='Page_1'></a><a name='Page_2'></a><a name='Page_3'></a></p> + +<h1>THE SUPPRESSED POEMS</h1> +<h2>OF</h2> +<h1>ALFRED LORD TENNYSON</h1> +<h2>1830-1868</h2> +<h3>EDITED BY J.C. THOMSON</h3> + + +<p> <a name='Page_4'></a> +<b>Contents</b> +<a name='Page_5'></a></p> +<ul> + <li><a href='#Page_8'>EDITOR'S NOTE</a><br /> </li> + <li><a href='#Page_9'>TIMBUCTOO</a><br /> </li> + <li><a href='#Page_21'>POEMS CHIEFLY LYRICAL</a> + <ul> + <li><a href='#Page_23'>i. The How and the Why</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_25'>ii. The Burial of Love</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_27'>iii. To ——</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_28'>iv. Song <i>'I' the gloaming light'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_29'>v. Song <i>'Every day hath its night'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_31'>vi. Hero to Leander</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_33'>vii. The Mystic</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_35'>viii. The Grasshopper</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_37'>ix. Love, Pride and Forgetfulness</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_38'>x. Chorus <i>'The varied earth, the moving heaven'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_40'>xi. Lost Hope</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_41'>xii. The Tears of Heaven</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_42'>xiii. Love and Sorrow</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_43'>xiv. To a Lady sleeping</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_44'>xv. Sonnet <i>'Could I outwear my present state of woe'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_45'>xvi. Sonnet <i>'Though night hath climbed'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_46'>xvii. Sonnet <i>'Shall the hag Evil die'</i></a></li> + <li><a name='Page_6'></a><a href='#Page_47'>xviii. Sonnet <i>'The pallid thunder stricken sigh for gain'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_48'>xix. Love</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_50'>xx. English War Song</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_52'>xxi. National Song</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_54'>xxii. Dualisms</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_55'>xxiii. <span class="greek" title="[Greek: ohi rheontes]">οἱ ρἑοντες</span></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_56'>xxiv. Song <i>'The lintwhite and the throstlecock'</i></a><br /> </li> + </ul> + </li> + <li><a href='#Page_59'>CONTRIBUTIONS TO PERIODICALS, 1831-32</a> + <ul> + <li><a href='#Page_61'>xxv. A Fragment</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_63'>xxvi. Anacreontics</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_64'>xxvii. <i>'O sad no more! O sweet no more'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_65'>xxviii. Sonnet <i>'Check every outflash, every ruder sally'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_66'>xxix. Sonnet <i>'Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_67'>xxx. Sonnet <i>'There are three things that fill my heart with sighs'</i></a><br /> </li> + </ul> + </li> + <li><a href='#Page_69'>POEMS, 1833</a> + <ul> + <li><a href='#Page_71'>xxxi. Sonnet <i>'Oh beauty, passing beauty'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_72'>xxxii. The Hesperides</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_77'>xxxiii. Rosalind</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_79'>xxxiv. Song <i>'Who can say'</i></a></li> + <li><a name='Page_7'></a><a href='#Page_80'>xxxv. Sonnet <i>'Blow ye the trumpet, gather from afar'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_81'>xxxvi. O Darling Room</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_82'>xxxvii. To Christopher North</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_83'>xxxviii. The Lotos-Eaters</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_85'>xxxix. A Dream of Fair Women</a><br /> </li> + </ul> + </li> + <li><a href='#Page_87'>MISCELLANEOUS POEMS AND CONTRIBUTIONS TO PERIODICALS, 1833-68</a> + <ul> + <li><a href='#Page_89'>xl. Cambridge</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_90'>xli. The Germ of 'Maud'</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_92'>xlii. <i>'A gate and afield half ploughed'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_93'>xliii. The Skipping-Rope</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_94'>xliv. The New Timon and the Poets</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_97'>xlv. Mablethorpe</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_98'>xlvi. <i>'What time I wasted youthful hours'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_99'>xlvii. Britons, guard your own</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_102'>xlviii. Hands all round</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_105'>xlix. Suggested by reading an article in a newspaper</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_110'>l. <i>'God bless our Prince and Bride'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_111'>li. The Ringlet</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_114'>lii. Song <i>'Home they brought him slain with spears'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_115'>liii. 1865-1866</a><br /> </li> + </ul> + </li> + <li><a href='#Page_117'>THE LOVER'S TALE, 1833</a><br /> </li> + <li><a href='#Page_159'>INDEX OF FIRST LINES</a></li> +</ul> + +<hr class='section' /> + +<p><a name='Page_8'></a><b><i>Note</i></b></p> + +<p><i>To those unacquainted with Tennyson's conscientious methods, it may +seem strange that a volume of 160 pages is necessary to contain those +poems written and published by him during his active literary career, +and ultimately rejected as unsatisfactory. Of this considerable body +of verse, a great part was written, not in youth or old age, but while +Tennyson's powers were at their greatest. Whatever reasons may once +have existed for suppressing the poems that follow, the student of +English literature is entitled to demand that the whole body of +Tennyson's work should now be open, without restriction or impediment, +to the critical study to which the works of his compeers are +subjected.</i></p> + +<p><i>The bibliographical notes prefixed to the various poems give, in every +case, the date and medium of first publication.</i></p> + +<p><i>J.C.T.</i></p> + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2>Timbuctoo</h2> + +<p> +<a name='Page_9'></a> +A POEM<br /> +WHICH OBTAINED<br /> +THE CHANCELLOR'S MEDAL<br /> +AT THE<br /> +<i>Cambridge Commencement</i><br /> +<br /> +MDCCCXXIX<br /> +<br /> +BY<br /> +A. TENNYSON<br /> +<br /> +Of Trinity College<br /> +</p> + +<p><a name='Page_10'></a>[Printed in Cambridge <i>Chronicle and Journal</i> of Friday, July 10, +1829, and at the University Press by James Smith, among the +<i>Prolusiones Academicæ Præmiis annuis dignatæ et in Curia +Cantabrigiensi Recitatæ Comitiis Maximis</i>, MDCCCXXIX. Republished in +<i>Cambridge Prize Poems</i>, 1813 to 1858, by Messrs. Macmillan in 1859, +without alteration; and in 1893 in the appendix to a reprint of <i>Poems +by Two Brothers</i>].</p> + +<p><a name='Page_11'></a><br /></p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Timbuctoo</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line2'>Deep in that lion-haunted inland lies</div> + <div class='line2'>A mystic city, goal of high Emprize.<a name='FNanchor_A_1'></a><a href='#Footnote_A_1'><sup>[A]</sup></a></div> + <div class='line2'>—CHAPMAN.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>I stood upon the Mountain which o'erlooks</div> + <div class='line'>The narrow seas, whose rapid interval</div> + <div class='line'>Parts Afric from green Europe, when the Sun</div> + <div class='line'>Had fall'n below th' Atlantick, and above</div> + <div class='line'>The silent Heavens were blench'd with faery light,</div> + <div class='line'>Uncertain whether faery light or cloud,</div> + <div class='line'>Flowing Southward, and the chasms of deep, deep blue</div> + <div class='line'>Slumber'd unfathomable, and the stars</div> + <div class='line'>Were flooded over with clear glory and pale.</div> + <div class='line'>I gaz'd upon the sheeny coast beyond,</div> + <div class='line'>There where the Giant of old Time infixed</div> + <div class='line'>The limits of his prowess, pillars high</div> + <div class='line'>Long time eras'd from Earth: even as the sea</div> + <div class='line'>When weary of wild inroad buildeth up</div> + <div class='line'>Huge mounds whereby to stay his yeasty waves.</div> + <div class='line'>And much I mus'd on legends quaint and old</div> + <div class='line'>Which whilome won the hearts of all on Earth</div><a name='Page_12'></a> + <div class='line'>Toward their brightness, ev'n as flame draws air;</div> + <div class='line'>But had their being in the heart of Man</div> + <div class='line'>As air is th' life of flame: and thou wert then</div> + <div class='line'>A center'd glory-circled Memory,</div> + <div class='line'>Divinest Atalantis, whom the waves</div> + <div class='line'>Have buried deep, and thou of later name</div> + <div class='line'>Imperial Eldorado root'd with gold:</div> + <div class='line'>Shadows to which, despite all shocks of Change,</div> + <div class='line'>All on-set of capricious Accident,</div> + <div class='line'>Men clung with yearning Hope which would not die.</div> + <div class='line'>As when in some great City where the walls</div> + <div class='line'>Shake, and the streets with ghastly faces throng'd</div> + <div class='line'>Do utter forth a subterranean voice,</div> + <div class='line'>Among the inner columns far retir'd</div> + <div class='line'>At midnight, in the lone Acropolis.</div> + <div class='line'>Before the awful Genius of the place</div> + <div class='line'>Kneels the pale Priestess in deep faith, the while</div> + <div class='line'>Above her head the weak lamp dips and winks</div> + <div class='line'>Unto the fearful summoning without:</div> + <div class='line'>Nathless she ever clasps the marble knees,</div> + <div class='line'>Bathes the cold hand with tears, and gazeth on</div> + <div class='line'>Those eyes which wear no light but that wherewith</div> + <div class='line'>Her phantasy informs them.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line10'>Where are ye</div> + <div class='line'>Thrones of the Western wave, fair Islands green?</div> + <div class='line'>Where are your moonlight halls, your cedarn glooms,</div> + <div class='line'>The blossoming abysses of your hills?</div><a name='Page_13'></a> + <div class='line'>Your flowering Capes and your gold-sanded bays</div> + <div class='line'>Blown round with happy airs of odorous winds?</div> + <div class='line'>Where are the infinite ways which, Seraphtrod,</div> + <div class='line'>Wound thro' your great Elysian solitudes,</div> + <div class='line'>Whose lowest depths were, as with visible love,</div> + <div class='line'>Fill'd with Divine effulgence, circumfus'd,</div> + <div class='line'>Flowing between the clear and polish'd stems,</div> + <div class='line'>And ever circling round their emerald cones</div> + <div class='line'>In coronals and glories, such as gird</div> + <div class='line'>The unfading foreheads of the Saints in Heaven?</div> + <div class='line'>For nothing visible, they say, had birth</div> + <div class='line'>In that blest ground but it was play'd about</div> + <div class='line'>With its peculiar glory. Then I rais'd</div> + <div class='line'>My voice and cried 'Wide Afric, doth thy Sun</div> + <div class='line'>Lighten, thy hills enfold a City as fair</div> + <div class='line'>As those which starr'd the night o' the Elder World?</div> + <div class='line'>Or is the rumour of thy Timbuctoo</div> + <div class='line'>A dream as frail as those of ancient Time?'</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>A curve of whitening, flashing, ebbing light!</div> + <div class='line'>A rustling of white wings! The bright descent</div> + <div class='line'>Of a young Seraph! and he stood beside me</div> + <div class='line'>There on the ridge, and look'd into my face</div> + <div class='line'>With his unutterable, shining orbs,</div> + <div class='line'>So that with hasty motion I did veil</div> + <div class='line'>My vision with both hands, and saw before me</div> + <div class='line'>Such colour'd spots as dance athwart the eyes</div> + <div class='line'>Of those that gaze upon the noonday Sun.</div> + <div class='line'>Girt with a Zone of flashing gold beneath</div> + <div class='line'>His breast, and compass'd round about his brow</div> + <div class='line'>With triple arch of everchanging bows,</div><a name='Page_14'></a> + <div class='line'>And circled with the glory of living light</div> + <div class='line'>And alternations of all hues, he stood.</div> + <div class='line'>'O child of man, why muse you here alone</div> + <div class='line'>Upon the Mountain, on the dreams of old</div> + <div class='line'>Which fill'd the Earth with passing loveliness,</div> + <div class='line'>Which flung strange music on the howling winds,</div> + <div class='line'>And odours rapt from remote Paradise?</div> + <div class='line'>Thy sense is clogg'd with dull mortality,</div> + <div class='line'>Thy spirit fetter'd with the bond of clay:</div> + <div class='line'>Open thine eye and see.'</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line10'>I look'd, but not</div> + <div class='line'>Upon his face, for it was wonderful</div> + <div class='line'>With its exceeding brightness, and the light</div> + <div class='line'>Of the great angel mind which look'd from out</div> + <div class='line'>The starry glowing of his restless eyes.</div> + <div class='line'>I felt my soul grow mighty, and my spirit</div> + <div class='line'>With supernatural excitation bound</div> + <div class='line'>Within me, and my mental eye grew large</div> + <div class='line'>With such a vast circumference of thought,</div> + <div class='line'>That in my vanity I seem'd to stand</div> + <div class='line'>Upon the outward verge and bound alone</div> + <div class='line'>Of full beatitude. Each failing sense</div> + <div class='line'>As with a momentary flash of light</div> + <div class='line'>Grew thrillingly distinct and keen. I saw</div> + <div class='line'>The smallest grain that dappled the dark Earth,</div> + <div class='line'>The indistinctest atom in deep air,</div> + <div class='line'>The Moon's white cities, and the opal width</div> + <div class='line'>Of her small glowing lakes, her silver heights</div> + <div class='line'>Unvisited with dew of vagrant cloud,</div> + <div class='line'>And the unsounded, undescended depth</div><a name='Page_15'></a> + <div class='line'>Of her black hollows. The clear Galaxy</div> + <div class='line'>Shorn of its hoary lustre, wonderful,</div> + <div class='line'>Distinct and vivid with sharp points of light</div> + <div class='line'>Blaze within blaze, an unimagin'd depth</div> + <div class='line'>And harmony of planet-girded Suns</div> + <div class='line'>And moon-encircled planets, wheel in wheel,</div> + <div class='line'>Arch'd the wan Sapphire. Nay, the hum of men,</div> + <div class='line'>Or other things talking in unknown tongues,</div> + <div class='line'>And notes of busy life in distant worlds</div> + <div class='line'>Beat like a far wave on my anxious ear.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>A maze of piercing, trackless, thrilling thoughts</div> + <div class='line'>Involving and embracing each with each</div> + <div class='line'>Rapid as fire, inextricably link'd,</div> + <div class='line'>Expanding momently with every sight</div> + <div class='line'>And sound which struck the palpitating sense,</div> + <div class='line'>The issue of strong impulse, hurried through</div> + <div class='line'>The riv'n rapt brain: as when in some large lake</div> + <div class='line'>From pressure of descendant crags, which lapse</div> + <div class='line'>Disjointed, crumbling from their parent slope</div> + <div class='line'>At slender interval, the level calm</div> + <div class='line'>Is ridg'd with restless and increasing spheres</div> + <div class='line'>Which break upon each other, each th' effect</div> + <div class='line'>Of separate impulse, but more fleet and strong</div> + <div class='line'>Than its precursor, till the eyes in vain</div> + <div class='line'>Amid the wild unrest of swimming shade</div> + <div class='line'>Dappled with hollow and alternate rise</div> + <div class='line'>Of interpenetrated arc, would scan</div> + <div class='line'>Definite round.</div> + <div class='line8'>I know not if I shape</div> + <div class='line'>These things with accurate similitude</div><a name='Page_16'></a> + <div class='line'>From visible objects, for but dimly now,</div> + <div class='line'>Less vivid than a half-forgotten dream,</div> + <div class='line'>The memory of that mental excellence</div> + <div class='line'>Comes o'er me, and it may be I entwine</div> + <div class='line'>The indecision of my present mind</div> + <div class='line'>With its past clearness, yet it seems to me</div> + <div class='line'>As even then the torrent of quick thought</div> + <div class='line'>Absorbed me from the nature of itself</div> + <div class='line'>With its own fleetness. Where is he that, borne</div> + <div class='line'>Adown the sloping of an arrowy stream,</div> + <div class='line'>Could link his shallop to the fleeting edge,</div> + <div class='line'>And muse midway with philosophic calm</div> + <div class='line'>Upon the wondrous laws which regulate</div> + <div class='line'>The fierceness of the bounding element?</div> + <div class='line'>My thoughts which long had grovell'd in the slime</div> + <div class='line'>Of this dull world, like dusky worms which house</div> + <div class='line'>Beneath unshaken waters, but at once</div> + <div class='line'>Upon some earth-awakening day of spring</div> + <div class='line'>Do pass from gloom to glory, and aloft</div> + <div class='line'>Winnow the purple, bearing on both sides</div> + <div class='line'>Double display of starlit wings which burn</div> + <div class='line'>Fanlike and fibred, with intensest bloom:</div> + <div class='line'>E'en so my thoughts, erewhile so low, now felt</div> + <div class='line'>Unutterable buoyancy and strength</div> + <div class='line'>To bear them upward through the trackless fields</div> + <div class='line'>Of undefin'd existence far and free.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Then first within the South methought I saw</div> + <div class='line'>A wilderness of spires, and chrystal pile</div> + <div class='line'>Of rampart upon rampart, dome on dome,</div> + <div class='line'>Illimitable range of battlement</div><a name='Page_17'></a> + <div class='line'>On battlement, and the Imperial height</div> + <div class='line'>Of Canopy o'ercanopied.</div> + <div class='line12'>Behind,</div> + <div class='line'>In diamond light, upsprung the dazzling Cones</div> + <div class='line'>Of Pyramids, as far surpassing Earth's</div> + <div class='line'>As Heaven than Earth is fairer. Each aloft</div> + <div class='line'>Upon his renown'd Eminence bore globes</div> + <div class='line'>Of wheeling suns, or stars, or semblances</div> + <div class='line'>Of either, showering circular abyss</div> + <div class='line'>Of radiance. But the glory of the place</div> + <div class='line'>Stood out a pillar'd front of burnish'd gold</div> + <div class='line'>Interminably high, if gold it were</div> + <div class='line'>Or metal more ethereal, and beneath</div> + <div class='line'>Two doors of blinding brilliance, where no gaze</div> + <div class='line'>Might rest, stood open, and the eye could scan</div> + <div class='line'>Through length of porch and lake and boundless hall,</div> + <div class='line'>Part of a throne of fiery flame, wherefrom</div> + <div class='line'>The snowy skirting of a garment hung,</div> + <div class='line'>And glimpse of multitudes of multitudes</div> + <div class='line'>That minister'd around it—if I saw</div> + <div class='line'>These things distinctly, for my human brain</div> + <div class='line'>Stagger'd beneath the vision, and thick night</div> + <div class='line'>Came down upon my eyelids, and I fell.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>With ministering hand he rais'd me up;</div> + <div class='line'>Then with a mournful and ineffable smile,</div> + <div class='line'>Which but to look on for a moment fill'd</div> + <div class='line'>My eyes with irresistible sweet tears,</div> + <div class='line'>In accents of majestic melody,</div> + <div class='line'>Like a swol'n river's gushings in still night</div><a name='Page_18'></a> + <div class='line'>Mingled with floating music, thus he spake:</div> + <div class='line'>'There is no mightier Spirit than I to sway</div> + <div class='line'>The heart of man: and teach him to attain</div> + <div class='line'>By shadowing forth the Unattainable;</div> + <div class='line'>And step by step to scale that mighty stair</div> + <div class='line'>Whose landing-place is wrapt about with clouds</div> + <div class='line'>Of glory of Heaven.<a name='FNanchor_B_2'></a><a href='#Footnote_B_2'><sup>[B]</sup></a> With earliest Light of Spring,</div> + <div class='line'>And in the glow of sallow Summertide,</div> + <div class='line'>And in red Autumn when the winds are wild</div> + <div class='line'>With gambols, and when full-voiced Winter roofs</div> + <div class='line'>The headland with inviolate white snow,</div> + <div class='line'>I play about his heart a thousand ways,</div> + <div class='line'>Visit his eyes with visions, and his ears</div> + <div class='line'>With harmonies of wind and wave and wood</div> + <div class='line'>—Of winds which tell of waters, and of waters</div> + <div class='line'>Betraying the close kisses of the wind—</div> + <div class='line'>And win him unto me: and few there be</div> + <div class='line'>So gross of heart who have not felt and known</div> + <div class='line'>A higher than they see: They with dim eyes</div> + <div class='line'>Behold me darkling. Lo! I have given <i>thee</i></div> + <div class='line'>To understand my presence, and to feel</div> + <div class='line'>My fullness; I have fill'd thy lips with power.</div> + <div class='line'>I have rais'd thee higher to the Spheres of Heaven,</div> + <div class='line'>Man's first, last home: and thou with ravish'd sense</div> + <div class='line'>Listenest the lordly music flowing from</div> + <div class='line'>Th' illimitable years. I am the Spirit,</div><a name='Page_19'></a> + <div class='line'>The permeating life which courseth through</div> + <div class='line'>All th' intricate and labyrinthine veins</div> + <div class='line'>Of the great vine of <i>Fable</i>, which, outspread</div> + <div class='line'>With growth of shadowing leaf and clusters rare,</div> + <div class='line'>Reacheth to every corner under Heaven,</div> + <div class='line'>Deep-rooted in the living soil of truth:</div> + <div class='line'>So that men's hopes and fears take refuge in</div> + <div class='line'>The fragrance of its complicated glooms</div> + <div class='line'>And cool impleachèd twilights. Child of Man,</div> + <div class='line'>See'st thou yon river, whose translucent wave,</div> + <div class='line'>Forth issuing from darkness, windeth through</div> + <div class='line'>The argent streets o' the City, imaging</div> + <div class='line'>The soft inversion of her tremulous Domes;</div> + <div class='line'>Her gardens frequent with the stately Palm,</div> + <div class='line'>Her Pagods hung with music of sweet bells:</div> + <div class='line'>Her obelisks of rangèd Chrysolite,</div> + <div class='line'>Minarets and towers? Lo! how he passeth by,</div> + <div class='line'>And gulphs himself in sands, as not enduring</div> + <div class='line'>To carry through the world those waves, which bore</div> + <div class='line'>The reflex of my City in their depths.</div> + <div class='line'>Oh City! Oh latest Throne! where I was rais'd</div> + <div class='line'>To be a mystery of loveliness</div> + <div class='line'>Unto all eyes, the time is well nigh come</div> + <div class='line'>When I must render up this glorious home</div> + <div class='line'>To keen <i>Discovery</i>: soon yon brilliant towers</div> + <div class='line'>Shall darken with the waving of her wand;</div> + <div class='line'>Darken, and shrink and shiver into huts,</div> + <div class='line'>Black specks amid a waste of dreary sand,</div> + <div class='line'>Low-built, mud-walled, Barbarian settlement,</div> + <div class='line'>How chang'd from this fair City!'</div> + <div class='line10'>Thus far the Spirit:<a name='Page_20'></a></div> + <div class='line'>Then parted Heavenward on the wing: and I</div> + <div class='line'>Was left alone on Calpe, and the Moon</div> + <div class='line'>Had fallen from the night, and all was dark!</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<p>[The following review of 'Timbuctoo' was published in the <i>Athenæum</i> +of 22nd July, 1829: 'We have accustomed ourselves to think, perhaps +without any very good reason, that poetry was likely to perish among +us for a considerable period after the great generation of poets which +is now passing away. The age seems determined to contradict us, and +that in the most decided manner; for it has put forth poetry by a +young man, and that where we should least expect it—namely, in a +prize poem. These productions have often been ingenious and elegant +but we have never before seen one of them which indicated really +first-rate poetical genius, and which would have done honour to any +men that ever wrote. Such, we do not hesitate to affirm, is the little +work before us; and the examiners seem to have felt it like ourselves, +for they have assigned the prize to the author, though the measure in +which he writes was never before, we believe, thus selected for +honour. We extract a few lines to justify our admiration (50 lines, +62-112, quoted). How many men have lived for a century who could equal +this?' At the time when this highly eulogistic notice of the youthful +unknown poet appeared, the <i>Athenæum</i> was edited by John Sterling and +Frederick Denison Maurice, its then proprietors.]</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><a name='Page_21'></a>Poems Chiefly Lyrical</h2> + +<p><a name='Page_22'></a>[The poems numbered I-XXIV which follow, were published in 1830 in the +volume <i>Poems chiefly Lyrical</i>. (London: Effingham Wilson, Royal +Exchange, 1830.) They were never republished by Tennyson.]</p> + +<h2><a name='Page_23'></a>I</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>The 'How' and the 'Why'</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line3'>I am any man's suitor,</div> + <div class='line3'>If any will be my tutor:</div> + <div class='line'>Some say this life is pleasant,</div> + <div class='line3'>Some think it speedeth fast:</div> + <div class='line'>In time there is no present,</div> + <div class='line3'>In eternity no future,</div> + <div class='line3'>In eternity no past.</div> + <div class='line'>We laugh, we cry, we are born, we die,</div> + <div class='line'>Who will riddle me the <i>how</i> and the <i>why</i>?</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The bulrush nods unto his brother</div> + <div class='line'>The wheatears whisper to each other:</div> + <div class='line'>What is it they say? What do they there?</div> + <div class='line'>Why two and two make four? Why round is not square?</div> + <div class='line'>Why the rocks stand still, and the light clouds fly?</div> + <div class='line'>Why the heavy oak groans, and the white willows sigh?</div> + <div class='line'>Why deep is not high, and high is not deep?</div> + <div class='line'>Whether we wake or whether we sleep?</div> + <div class='line'>Whether we sleep or whether we die?</div> + <div class='line'>How you are you? Why I am I?</div> + <div class='line'>Who will riddle me the <i>how</i> and the <i>why</i>?</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The world is somewhat; it goes on somehow;</div><a name='Page_24'></a> + <div class='line'>But what is the meaning of <i>then</i> and <i>now</i>!</div> + <div class='line'>I feel there is something; but how and what?</div> + <div class='line'>I know there is somewhat; but what and why!</div> + <div class='line'>I cannot tell if that somewhat be I.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The little bird pipeth 'why! why!'</div> + <div class='line'>In the summerwoods when the sun falls low,</div> + <div class='line'>And the great bird sits on the opposite bough,</div> + <div class='line'>And stares in his face and shouts 'how? how?'</div> + <div class='line'>And the black owl scuds down the mellow twilight,</div> + <div class='line'>And chaunts 'how? how?' the whole of the night.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Why the life goes when the blood is spilt?</div> + <div class='line'>What the life is? where the soul may lie?</div> + <div class='line'>Why a church is with a steeple built;</div> + <div class='line'>And a house with a chimney-pot?</div> + <div class='line'>Who will riddle me the how and the what?</div> + <div class='line'>Who will riddle me the what and the why?</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_25'></a>II</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>The Burial of Love</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line3'>His eyes in eclipse,</div> + <div class='line3'>Pale cold his lips,</div> + <div class='line'>The light of his hopes unfed,</div> + <div class='line3'>Mute his tongue,</div> + <div class='line3'>His bow unstrung</div> + <div class='line'>With the tears he hath shed,</div> + <div class='line'>Backward drooping his graceful head.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line3'>Love is dead;</div> + <div class='line3'>His last arrow sped;</div> + <div class='line'>He hath not another dart;</div> + <div class='line3'>Go—carry him to his dark deathbed;</div> + <div class='line'>Bury him in the cold, cold heart—</div> + <div class='line3'>Love is dead.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Oh, truest love! art thou forlorn,</div> + <div class='line3'>And unrevenged? Thy pleasant wiles</div> + <div class='line'>Forgotten, and thine innocent joy?</div> + <div class='line3'>Shall hollow-hearted apathy,</div> + <div class='line'>The cruellest form of perfect scorn,</div> + <div class='line3'>With langour of most hateful smiles,</div> + <div class='line'>For ever write</div> + <div class='line'>In the weathered light</div> + <div class='line3'>Of the tearless eye</div> + <div class='line3'>An epitaph that all may spy?</div> + <div class='line3'>No! sooner she herself shall die.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>For her the showers shall not fall,</div><a name='Page_26'></a> + <div class='line'>Nor the round sun that shineth to all;</div> + <div class='line3'>Her light shall into darkness change;</div> + <div class='line'>For her the green grass shall not spring,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor the rivers flow, nor the sweet birds sing,</div> + <div class='line3'>Till Love have his full revenge.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_27'></a>III</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>To ——</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Sainted Juliet! dearest name!</div> + <div class='line3'>If to love be life alone,</div> + <div class='line4'>Divinest Juliet,</div> + <div class='line3'>I love thee, and live; and yet</div> + <div class='line'>Love unreturned is like the fragrant flame</div> + <div class='line3'>Folding the slaughter of the sacrifice</div> + <div class='line3'>Offered to Gods upon an altarthrone;</div> + <div class='line'>My heart is lighted at thine eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>Changed into fire, and blown about with sighs.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_28'></a>IV</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Song</div> + <div class='heading'>I</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line3'>I' the glooming light</div> + <div class='line3'>Of middle night,</div> + <div class='line3'>So cold and white,</div> + <div class='line'>Worn Sorrow sits by the moaning wave;</div> + <div class='line3'>Beside her are laid,</div> + <div class='line3'>Her mattock and spade,</div> + <div class='line'>For she hath half delved her own deep grave.</div> + <div class='line3'>Alone she is there:</div> + <div class='line'>The white clouds drizzle: her hair falls loose;</div> + <div class='line3'>Her shoulders are bare;</div> + <div class='line'>Her tears are mixed with the bearded dews.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line3'>Death standeth by;</div> + <div class='line3'>She will not die;</div> + <div class='line3'>With glazèd eye</div> + <div class='line'>She looks at her grave: she cannot sleep;</div> + <div class='line3'>Ever alone</div> + <div class='line3'>She maketh her moan:</div> + <div class='line'>She cannot speak; she can only weep;</div> + <div class='line3'>For she will not hope.</div> + <div class='line'>The thick snow falls on her flake by flake,</div> + <div class='line3'>The dull wave mourns down the slope,</div> + <div class='line'>The world will not change, and her heart will not break.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_29'></a>V</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Song</div> + <div class='heading'>I</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Every day hath its night:</div> + <div class='line3'>Every night its morn:</div> + <div class='line'>Through dark and bright</div> + <div class='line3'>Wingèd hours are borne;</div> + <div class='line5'>Ah! welaway!</div> + <div class='line'>Seasons flower and fade;</div> + <div class='line3'>Golden calm and storm</div> + <div class='line5'>Mingle day by day.</div> + <div class='line3'>There is no bright form</div> + <div class='line'>Doth not cast a shade—</div> + <div class='line5'>Ah! welaway!</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>When we laugh, and our mirth</div> + <div class='line3'>Apes the happy vein,</div> + <div class='line'>We're so kin to earth</div> + <div class='line3'>Pleasuance fathers pain—</div> + <div class='line5'>Ah! welaway!</div> + <div class='line'>Madness laugheth loud:</div> + <div class='line3'>Laughter bringeth tears:</div> + <div class='line5'>Eyes are worn away</div> + <div class='line3'>Till the end of fears</div> + <div class='line'>Cometh in the shroud,</div> + <div class='line5'>Ah! welaway!</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>III</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>All is change, woe or weal;</div> + <div class='line3'>Joy is sorrow's brother;</div> + <div class='line'>Grief and sadness steal</div> + <div class='line3'>Symbols of each other;</div> + <div class='line5'>Ah! welaway!</div> + <div class='line'>Larks in heaven's cope</div> + <div class='line3'>Sing: the culvers mourn</div> + <div class='line5'>All the livelong day.</div> + <div class='line3'>Be not all forlorn;</div> + <div class='line'>Let us weep in hope—</div> + <div class='line5'>Ah! welaway!</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_31'></a>VI</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Hero to Leander</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Oh go not yet, my love,</div> + <div class='line3'>The night is dark and vast;</div> + <div class='line'>The white moon is hid in her heaven above,</div> + <div class='line3'>And the waves climb high and fast.</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! kiss me, kiss me, once again,</div> + <div class='line3'>Lest thy kiss should be the last.</div> + <div class='line3'>Oh kiss me ere we part;</div> + <div class='line3'>Grow closer to my heart.</div> + <div class='line'>My heart is warmer surely than the bosom of the main.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Oh joy! O bliss of blisses!</div> + <div class='line3'>My heart of hearts art thou.</div> + <div class='line'>Come bathe me with thy kisses,</div> + <div class='line3'>My eyelids and my brow.</div> + <div class='line'>Hark how the wild rain hisses,</div> + <div class='line3'>And the loud sea roars below.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Thy heart beats through thy rosy limbs</div> + <div class='line3'>So gladly doth it stir;</div> + <div class='line'>Thine eye in drops of gladness swims.</div> + <div class='line3'>I have bathed thee with the pleasant myrrh;</div> + <div class='line'>Thy locks are dripping balm;</div><a name='Page_32'></a> + <div class='line3'>Thou shalt not wander hence to-night,</div> + <div class='line'>I'll stay thee with my kisses.</div> + <div class='line3'>To-night the roaring brine</div> + <div class='line'>Will rend thy golden tresses;</div> + <div class='line3'>The ocean with the morrow light</div> + <div class='line'>Will be both blue and calm;</div> + <div class='line3'>And the billow will embrace thee with a kiss as soft as mine.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>No western odours wander</div> + <div class='line3'>On the black and moaning sea,</div> + <div class='line'>And when thou art dead, Leander,</div> + <div class='line3'>My soul shall follow thee!</div> + <div class='line'>Oh go not yet, my love,</div> + <div class='line3'>Thy voice is sweet and low;</div> + <div class='line'>The deep salt wave breaks in above</div> + <div class='line3'>Those marble steps below.</div> + <div class='line'>The turretstairs are wet</div> + <div class='line3'>That lead into the sea.</div> + <div class='line'>Leander! go not yet.</div> + <div class='line'>The pleasant stars have set!</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! go not, go not yet,</div> + <div class='line3'>Or I will follow thee.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_33'></a>VII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>The Mystic</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Angels have talked with him, and showed him thrones:</div> + <div class='line'>Ye knew him not: he was not one of ye,</div> + <div class='line'>Ye scorned him with an undiscerning scorn:</div> + <div class='line'>Ye could not read the marvel in his eye,</div> + <div class='line'>The still serene abstraction; he hath felt</div> + <div class='line'>The vanities of after and before;</div> + <div class='line'>Albeit, his spirit and his secret heart</div> + <div class='line'>The stern experiences of converse lives,</div> + <div class='line'>The linkèd woes of many a fiery change</div> + <div class='line'>Had purified, and chastened, and made free.</div> + <div class='line'>Always there stood before him, night and day,</div> + <div class='line'>Of wayward vary coloured circumstance,</div> + <div class='line'>The imperishable presences serene,</div> + <div class='line'>Colossal, without form, or sense, or sound,</div> + <div class='line'>Dim shadows but unwaning presences</div> + <div class='line'>Fourfacèd to four corners of the sky;</div> + <div class='line'>And yet again, three shadows, fronting one,</div> + <div class='line'>One forward, one respectant, three but one;</div> + <div class='line'>And yet again, again and evermore,</div> + <div class='line'>For the two first were not, but only seemed</div> + <div class='line'>One shadow in the midst of a great light,</div> + <div class='line'>One reflex from eternity on time,</div><a name='Page_34'></a> + <div class='line'>One mighty countenance of perfect calm,</div> + <div class='line'>Awful with most invariable eyes.</div> + <div class='line'>For him the silent congregated hours,</div> + <div class='line'>Daughters of time, divinely tall, beneath</div> + <div class='line'>Severe and youthful brows, with shining eyes</div> + <div class='line'>Smiling a godlike smile (the innocent light</div> + <div class='line'>Of earliest youth pierced through and through with all</div> + <div class='line'>Keen knowledges of low-embowèd eld)</div> + <div class='line'>Upheld, and ever hold aloft the cloud</div> + <div class='line'>Which droops low hung on either gate of life,</div> + <div class='line'>Both birth and death; he in the centre fixed,</div> + <div class='line'>Saw far on each side through the grated gates</div> + <div class='line'>Most pale and clear and lovely distances.</div> + <div class='line'>He often lying broad awake, and yet</div> + <div class='line'>Remaining from the body, and apart</div> + <div class='line'>In intellect and power and will, hath heard</div> + <div class='line'>Time flowing in the middle of the night,</div> + <div class='line'>And all things creeping to a day of doom.</div> + <div class='line'>How could ye know him? Ye were yet within</div> + <div class='line'>The narrower circle; he had well nigh reached</div> + <div class='line'>The last, with which a region of white flame,</div> + <div class='line'>Pure without heat, into a larger air</div> + <div class='line'>Upburning, and an ether of black hue,</div> + <div class='line'>Investeth and ingirds all other lives.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_35'></a>VIII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>The Grasshopper</div> + <div class='heading'>I</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Voice of the summerwind,</div> + <div class='line3'>Joy of the summerplain,</div> + <div class='line3'>Life of the summerhours,</div> + <div class='line2'>Carol clearly, bound along.</div> + <div class='line3'>No Tithon thou as poets feign</div> + <div class='line'>(Shame fall 'em they are deaf and blind)</div> + <div class='line2'>But an insect lithe and strong,</div> + <div class='line3'>Bowing the seeded summerflowers.</div> + <div class='line'>Prove their falsehood and thy quarrel,</div> + <div class='line3'>Vaulting on thine airy feet.</div> + <div class='line'>Clap thy shielded sides and carol,</div> + <div class='line3'>Carol clearly, chirrup sweet</div> + <div class='line'>Thou art a mailèd warrior in youth and strength complete;</div> + <div class='line3'>Armed cap-a-pie,</div> + <div class='line3'>Full fair to see;</div> + <div class='line4'>Unknowing fear,</div> + <div class='line3'>Undreading loss,</div> + <div class='line4'>A gallant cavalier</div> + <div class='line'><i>Sans peur et sans reproche,</i></div> + <div class='line3'>In sunlight and in shadow,</div> + <div class='line3'>The Bayard of the meadow.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>I would dwell with thee,</div> + <div class='line3'>Merry grasshopper,</div> + <div class='line'>Thou art so glad and free,</div> + <div class='line3'>And as light as air;</div> + <div class='line'>Thou hast no sorrow or tears,</div> + <div class='line'>Thou hast no compt of years,</div> + <div class='line'>No withered immortality,</div> + <div class='line'>But a short youth sunny and free.</div> + <div class='line'>Carol clearly, bound along,</div> + <div class='line3'>Soon thy joy is over,</div> + <div class='line'>A summer of loud song,</div> + <div class='line3'>And slumbers in the clover.</div> + <div class='line3'>What hast thou to do with evil</div> + <div class='line3'>In thine hour of love and revel,</div> + <div class='line3'>In thy heat of summerpride,</div> + <div class='line3'>Pushing the thick roots aside</div> + <div class='line3'>Of the singing flowerèd grasses,</div> + <div class='line3'>That brush thee with their silken tresses?</div> + <div class='line'>What hast thou to do with evil,</div> + <div class='line'>Shooting, singing, ever springing</div> + <div class='line3'>In and out the emerald glooms,</div> + <div class='line'>Ever leaping, ever singing,</div> + <div class='line3'>Lighting on the golden blooms?</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_37'></a>IX</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Love, Pride and Forgetfulness</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Ere yet my heart was sweet Love's tomb,</div> + <div class='line'>Love laboured honey busily.</div> + <div class='line'>I was the hive and Love the bee,</div> + <div class='line'>My heart the honey-comb.</div> + <div class='line'>One very dark and chilly night</div> + <div class='line'>Pride came beneath and held a light.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The cruel vapours went through all,</div> + <div class='line'>Sweet Love was withered in his cell;</div> + <div class='line'>Pride took Love's sweets, and by a spell</div> + <div class='line'>Did change them into gall;</div> + <div class='line'>And Memory tho' fed by Pride</div> + <div class='line'>Did wax so thin on gall,</div> + <div class='line'>Awhile she scarcely lived at all,</div> + <div class='line'>What marvel that she died?</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_38'></a>X</h2> + +<p><b>Chorus</b></p> + +<p><i>In an unpublished drama written very early.</i></p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The varied earth, the moving heaven,</div> + <div class='line3'>The rapid waste of roving sea,</div> + <div class='line'>The fountainpregnant mountains riven</div> + <div class='line3'>To shapes of wildest anarchy,</div> + <div class='line'>By secret fire and midnight storms</div> + <div class='line3'>That wander round their windy cones,</div> + <div class='line'>The subtle life, the countless forms</div> + <div class='line3'>Of living things, the wondrous tones</div> + <div class='line'>Of man and beast are full of strange</div> + <div class='line'>Astonishment and boundless change.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The day, the diamonded light,</div> + <div class='line3'>The echo, feeble child of sound,</div> + <div class='line'>The heavy thunder's girding might,</div> + <div class='line3'>The herald lightning's starry bound,</div> + <div class='line'>The vocal spring of bursting bloom,</div> + <div class='line3'>The naked summer's glowing birth,</div> + <div class='line'>The troublous autumn's sallow gloom,</div> + <div class='line3'>The hoarhead winter paving earth</div> + <div class='line'>With sheeny white, are full of strange</div> + <div class='line'>Astonishment and boundless change.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Each sun which from the centre flings</div><a name='Page_39'></a> + <div class='line3'>Grand music and redundant fire,</div> + <div class='line'>The burning belts, the mighty rings,</div> + <div class='line3'>The murmurous planets' rolling choir,</div> + <div class='line'>The globefilled arch that, cleaving air,</div> + <div class='line3'>Lost in its effulgence sleeps,</div> + <div class='line'>The lawless comets as they glare,</div> + <div class='line3'>And thunder thro' the sapphire deeps</div> + <div class='line'>In wayward strength, are full of strange</div> + <div class='line'>Astonishment and boundless change.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_40'></a>XI</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Lost Hope</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>You cast to ground the hope which once was mine,</div> + <div class='line3'>But did the while your harsh decree deplore,</div> + <div class='line'>Embalming with sweet tears the vacant shrine,</div> + <div class='line3'>My heart, where Hope had been and was no more.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>So on an oaken sprout</div> + <div class='line3'>A goodly acorn grew;</div> + <div class='line'>But winds from heaven shook the acorn out,</div> + <div class='line3'>And filled the cup with dew.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_41'></a>XII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>The Tears of Heaven</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Heaven weeps above the earth all night till morn,</div> + <div class='line'>In darkness weeps, as all ashamed to weep,</div> + <div class='line'>Because the earth hath made her state forlorn</div> + <div class='line'>With selfwrought evils of unnumbered years,</div> + <div class='line'>And doth the fruit of her dishonour reap.</div> + <div class='line'>And all the day heaven gathers back her tears</div> + <div class='line'>Into her own blue eyes so clear and deep,</div> + <div class='line'>And showering down the glory of lightsome day,</div> + <div class='line'>Smiles on the earth's worn brow to win her if she may.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_42'></a>XIII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Love and Sorrow</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O maiden, fresher than the first green leaf</div> + <div class='line'>With which the fearful springtide flecks the lea,</div> + <div class='line'>Weep not, Almeida, that I said to thee</div> + <div class='line'>That thou hast half my heart, for bitter grief</div> + <div class='line'>Doth hold the other half in sovranty.</div> + <div class='line'>Thou art my heart's sun in love's crystalline:</div> + <div class='line'>Yet on both sides at once thou canst not shine:</div> + <div class='line'>Thine is the bright side of my heart, and thine</div> + <div class='line'>My heart's day, but the shadow of my heart,</div> + <div class='line'>Issue of its own substance, my heart's night</div> + <div class='line'>Thou canst not lighten even with <i>thy</i> light,</div> + <div class='line'>All powerful in beauty as thou art.</div> + <div class='line'>Almeida, if my heart were substanceless,</div> + <div class='line'>Then might thy rays pass thro' to the other side,</div> + <div class='line'>So swiftly, that they nowhere would abide,</div> + <div class='line'>But lose themselves in utter emptiness.</div> + <div class='line'>Half-light, half-shadow, let my spirit sleep</div> + <div class='line'>They never learnt to love who never knew to weep.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_43'></a>XIV</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>To a Lady Sleeping</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O thou whose fringèd lids I gaze upon,</div> + <div class='line'>Through whose dim brain the wingèd dreams are born,</div> + <div class='line'>Unroof the shrines of clearest vision,</div> + <div class='line'>In honour of the silverfleckèd morn:</div> + <div class='line'>Long hath the white wave of the virgin light</div> + <div class='line'>Driven back the billow of the dreamful dark.</div> + <div class='line'>Thou all unwittingly prolongest night,</div> + <div class='line'>Though long ago listening the poisèd lark,</div> + <div class='line'>With eyes dropt downward through the blue serene,</div> + <div class='line'>Over heaven's parapets the angels lean.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_44'></a>XV</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Sonnet</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Could I outwear my present state of woe</div> + <div class='line'>With one brief winter, and indue i' the spring</div> + <div class='line'>Hues of fresh youth, and mightily outgrow</div> + <div class='line'>The wan dark coil of faded suffering—</div> + <div class='line'>Forth in the pride of beauty issuing</div> + <div class='line'>A sheeny snake, the light of vernal bowers,</div> + <div class='line'>Moving his crest to all sweet plots of flowers</div> + <div class='line'>And watered vallies where the young birds sing;</div> + <div class='line'>Could I thus hope my lost delights renewing,</div> + <div class='line'>I straightly would commend the tears to creep</div> + <div class='line'>From my charged lids; but inwardly I weep:</div> + <div class='line'>Some vital heat as yet my heart is wooing:</div> + <div class='line'>This to itself hath drawn the frozen rain</div> + <div class='line'>From my cold eyes and melted it again.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_45'></a>XVI</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Sonnet</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Though Night hath climbed her peak of highest noon,</div> + <div class='line'>And bitter blasts the screaming autumn whirl,</div> + <div class='line'>All night through archways of the bridgèd pearl</div> + <div class='line'>And portals of pure silver walks the moon.</div> + <div class='line'>Wake on, my soul, nor crouch to agony:</div> + <div class='line'>Turn cloud to light, and bitterness to joy,</div> + <div class='line'>And dross to gold with glorious alchemy,</div> + <div class='line'>Basing thy throne above the world's annoy.</div> + <div class='line'>Reign thou above the storms of sorrow and ruth</div> + <div class='line'>That roar beneath; unshaken peace hath won thee:</div> + <div class='line'>So shall thou pierce the woven glooms of truth;</div> + <div class='line'>So shall the blessing of the meek be on thee;</div> + <div class='line'>So in thine hour of dawn, the body's youth,</div> + <div class='line'>An honourable eld shall come upon thee.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_46'></a>XVII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Sonnet</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Shall the hag Evil die with the child of Good,</div> + <div class='line'>Or propagate again her loathèd kind,</div> + <div class='line'>Thronging the cells of the diseased mind,</div> + <div class='line'>Hateful with hanging cheeks, a withered brood,</div> + <div class='line'>Though hourly pastured on the salient blood?</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! that the wind which bloweth cold or heat</div> + <div class='line'>Would shatter and o'erbear the brazen beat</div> + <div class='line'>Of their broad vans, and in the solitude</div> + <div class='line'>Of middle space confound them, and blow back</div> + <div class='line'>Their wild cries down their cavernthroats, and slake</div> + <div class='line'>With points of blastborne hail their heated eyne!</div> + <div class='line'>So their wan limbs no more might come between</div> + <div class='line'>The moon and the moon's reflex in the night;</div> + <div class='line'>Nor blot with floating shades the solar light.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_47'></a>XVIII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Sonnet</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The palid thunderstricken sigh for gain,</div> + <div class='line'>Down an ideal stream they ever float,</div> + <div class='line'>And sailing on Pactolus in a boat,</div> + <div class='line'>Drown soul and sense, while wistfully they strain</div> + <div class='line'>Weak eyes upon the glistering sands that robe</div> + <div class='line'>The understream. The wise could he behold</div> + <div class='line'>Cathedralled caverns of thick-ribbèd gold</div> + <div class='line'>And branching silvers of the central globe,</div> + <div class='line'>Would marvel from so beautiful a sight</div> + <div class='line'>How scorn and ruin, pain and hate could flow:</div> + <div class='line'>But Hatred in a gold cave sits below,</div> + <div class='line'>Pleached with her hair, in mail of argent light</div> + <div class='line'>Shot into gold, a snake her forehead clips</div> + <div class='line'>And skins the colour from her trembling lips.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_48'></a>XIX</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Love</div> + <div class='heading'>I</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Thou, from the first, unborn, undying love,</div> + <div class='line'>Albeit we gaze not on thy glories near,</div> + <div class='line'>Before the face of God didst breath and move,</div> + <div class='line'>Though night and pain and ruin and death reign here.</div> + <div class='line'>Thou foldest, like a golden atmosphere,</div> + <div class='line'>The very throne of the eternal God:</div> + <div class='line'>Passing through thee the edicts of his fear</div> + <div class='line'>Are mellowed into music, borne abroad</div> + <div class='line'>By the loud winds, though they uprend the sea,</div> + <div class='line'>Even from his central deeps: thine empery</div> + <div class='line'>Is over all: thou wilt not brook eclipse;</div> + <div class='line'>Thou goest and returnest to His Lips</div> + <div class='line'>Like lightning: thou dost ever brood above</div> + <div class='line'>The silence of all hearts, unutterable Love.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>To know thee is all wisdom, and old age</div> + <div class='line'>Is but to know thee: dimly we behold thee</div> + <div class='line'>Athwart the veils of evil which enfold thee</div> + <div class='line'>We beat upon our aching hearts with rage;</div> + <div class='line'>We cry for thee: we deem the world thy tomb.</div> + <div class='line'>As dwellers in lone planets look upon</div><a name='Page_49'></a> + <div class='line'>The mighty disk of their majestic sun,</div> + <div class='line'>Hallowed in awful chasms of wheeling gloom,</div> + <div class='line'>Making their day dim, so we gaze on thee.</div> + <div class='line'>Come, thou of many crowns, white-robèd love,</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! rend the veil in twain: all men adore thee;</div> + <div class='line'>Heaven crieth after thee; earth waileth for thee:</div> + <div class='line'>Breathe on thy wingèd throne, and it shall move</div> + <div class='line'>In music and in light o'er land and sea.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>III</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>And now—methinks I gaze upon thee now,</div> + <div class='line'>As on a serpent in his agonies</div> + <div class='line'>Awestricken Indians; what time laid low</div> + <div class='line'>And crushing the thick fragrant reeds he lies,</div> + <div class='line'>When the new year warm breathèd on the earth,</div> + <div class='line'>Waiting to light him with his purple skies,</div> + <div class='line'>Calls to him by the fountain to uprise.</div> + <div class='line'>Already with the pangs of a new birth</div> + <div class='line'>Strain the hot spheres of his convulsèd eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>And in his writhings awful hues begin</div> + <div class='line'>To wander down his sable sheeny sides,</div> + <div class='line'>Like light on troubled waters: from within</div> + <div class='line'>Anon he rusheth forth with merry din,</div> + <div class='line'>And in him light and joy and strength abides;</div> + <div class='line'>And from his brows a crown of living light</div> + <div class='line'>Looks through the thickstemmed woods by day and night</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_50'></a>XX</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>English War Song</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line3'>Who fears to die? Who fears to die?</div> + <div class='line3'>Is there any here who fears to die</div> + <div class='line'>He shall find what he fears, and none shall grieve</div> + <div class='line3'>For the man who fears to die:</div> + <div class='line'>But the withering scorn of the many shall cleave</div> + <div class='line3'>To the man who fears to die.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>Chorus</i>.—Shout for England!</div> + <div class='line9'>Ho! for England!</div> + <div class='line9'>George for England!</div> + <div class='line9'>Merry England!</div> + <div class='line9'>England for aye!</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The hollow at heart shall crouch forlorn,</div> + <div class='line'>He shall eat the bread of common scorn;</div> + <div class='line3'>It shall be steeped in the salt, salt tear,</div> + <div class='line3'>Shall be steeped in his own salt tear:</div> + <div class='line'>Far better, far better he never were born</div> + <div class='line3'>Than to shame merry England here.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>Chorus</i>.—Shout for England! <i>etc</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>There standeth our ancient enemy;</div><a name='Page_51'></a> + <div class='line'>Hark! he shouteth—the ancient enemy!</div> + <div class='line3'>On the ridge of the hill his banners rise;</div> + <div class='line3'>They stream like fire in the skies;</div> + <div class='line'>Hold up the Lion of England on high</div> + <div class='line3'>Till it dazzle and blind his eyes.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>Chorus</i>.—Shout for England! <i>etc</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Come along! we alone of the earth are free;</div> + <div class='line'>The child in our cradles is bolder than he;</div> + <div class='line3'>For where is the heart and strength of slaves?</div> + <div class='line3'>Oh! where is the strength of slaves?</div> + <div class='line'>He is weak! we are strong; he a slave, we are free;</div> + <div class='line3'>Come along! we will dig their graves.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>Chorus</i>.—Shout for England! <i>etc</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>There standeth our ancient enemy;</div> + <div class='line'>Will he dare to battle with the free?</div> + <div class='line3'>Spur along! spur amain! charge to the fight:</div> + <div class='line3'>Charge! charge to the fight!</div> + <div class='line'>Hold up the Lion of England on high!</div> + <div class='line3'>Shout for God and our right!</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>Chorus</i>.—Shout for England! <i>etc</i>.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_52'></a>XXI</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>National Song</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>There is no land like England</div> + <div class='line2'>Where'er the light of day be;</div> + <div class='line'>There are no hearts like English hearts,</div> + <div class='line2'>Such hearts of oak as they be.</div> + <div class='line'>There is no land like England</div> + <div class='line2'>Where'er the light of day be;</div> + <div class='line'>There are no men like Englishmen,</div> + <div class='line2'>So tall and bold as they be.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>Chorus</i>.—For the French the Pope may shrive 'em,</div> + <div class='line5'>For the devil a whit we heed 'em,</div> + <div class='line5'>As for the French, God speed 'em</div> + <div class='line6'>Unto their hearts' desire,</div> + <div class='line5'>And the merry devil drive 'em</div> + <div class='line6'>Through the water and the fire.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>Chorus</i>.—Our glory is our freedom,</div> + <div class='line6'>We lord it o'er the sea;</div> + <div class='line5'>We are the sons of freedom,</div> + <div class='line6'>We are free.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>There is no land like England,</div><a name='Page_53'></a> + <div class='line2'>Where'er the light of day be;</div> + <div class='line'>There are no wives like English wives,</div> + <div class='line2'>So fair and chaste as they be.</div> + <div class='line'>There is no land like England,</div> + <div class='line2'>Where'er the light of day be,</div> + <div class='line'>There are no maids like English maids,</div> + <div class='line2'>So beautiful as they be.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>Chorus</i>.—For the French, <i>etc</i>.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>[Sixty years after first publication this Song was incorporated in +'The Foresters' (published 1892) as the opening chorus of the second +act. The two verses were unaltered, but the two choruses were +re-written.]</p> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_54'></a>XXII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Dualisms</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Two bees within a chrystal flowerbell rockèd</div> + <div class='line'>Hum a lovelay to the westwind at noontide.</div> + <div class='line'>Both alike, they buzz together,</div> + <div class='line'>Both alike, they hum together</div> + <div class='line'>Through and through the flowered heather.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Where in a creeping cove the wave unshockèd</div> + <div class='line2'>Lays itself calm and wide,</div> + <div class='line'>Over a stream two birds of glancing feather</div> + <div class='line'>Do woo each other, carolling together.</div> + <div class='line'>Both alike, they glide together</div> + <div class='line2'>Side by side;</div> + <div class='line'>Both alike, they sing together,</div> + <div class='line'>Arching blue-glossèd necks beneath the purple weather.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Two children lovelier than love, adown the lea are singing,</div> + <div class='line'>As they gambol, lilygarlands ever stringing:</div> + <div class='line'>Both in blosmwhite silk are frockèd:</div> + <div class='line'>Like, unlike, they roam together</div> + <div class='line'>Under a summervault of golden weather;</div> + <div class='line'>Like, unlike, they sing together</div> + <div class='line2'>Side by side;</div> + <div class='line'>Mid May's darling goldenlockèd,</div> + <div class='line'>Summer's tanling diamondeyed.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_55'></a>XXIII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'><span class="greek" title="[Greek: ohi rheontes]">οἱ ρἑοντες</span></div> + <div class='heading'>I</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>All thoughts, all creeds, all dreams are true,</div> + <div class='line2'>All visions wild and strange;</div> + <div class='line'>Man is the measure of all truth</div> + <div class='line2'>Unto himself. All truth is change:</div> + <div class='line'>All men do walk in sleep, and all</div> + <div class='line2'>Have faith in that they dream:</div> + <div class='line'>For all things are as they seem to all,</div> + <div class='line2'>And all things flow like a stream.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>There is no rest, no calm, no pause,</div> + <div class='line2'>Nor good nor ill, nor light nor shade,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor essence nor eternal laws:</div> + <div class='line2'>For nothing is, but all is made,</div> + <div class='line'>But if I dream that all these are,</div> + <div class='line2'>They are to me for that I dream;</div> + <div class='line'>For all things are as they seem to all,</div> + <div class='line2'>And all things flow like a stream.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Argal.—This very opinion is only true relatively to the flowing +philosophers. (Tennyson's note.)</p> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_56'></a>XXIV</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Song</div> + <div class='heading'>I</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The lintwhite and the throstlecock</div> + <div class='line3'>Have voices sweet and clear;</div> + <div class='line2'>All in the bloomèd May.</div> + <div class='line'>They from the blosmy brere</div> + <div class='line'>Call to the fleeting year,</div> + <div class='line'>If that he would them hear</div> + <div class='line3'>And stay.</div> + <div class='line'>Alas! that one so beautiful</div> + <div class='line2'>Should have so dull an ear.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Fair year, fair year, thy children call,</div> + <div class='line3'>But thou art deaf as death;</div> + <div class='line2'>All in the bloomèd May.</div> + <div class='line'>When thy light perisheth</div> + <div class='line'>That from thee issueth,</div> + <div class='line'>Our life evanisheth:</div> + <div class='line3'>Oh! stay.</div> + <div class='line'>Alas! that lips so cruel dumb</div> + <div class='line2'>Should have so sweet a breath!</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>III<a name='Page_57'></a></div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Fair year, with brows of royal love</div> + <div class='line3'>Thou comest, as a King.</div> + <div class='line2'>All in the bloomèd May.</div> + <div class='line'>Thy golden largess fling,</div> + <div class='line'>And longer hear us sing;</div> + <div class='line'>Though thou art fleet of wing,</div> + <div class='line3'>Yet stay.</div> + <div class='line'>Alas! that eyes so full of light</div> + <div class='line'>Should be so wandering!</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>IV</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Thy locks are full of sunny sheen</div> + <div class='line3'>In rings of gold yronne,<a name='FNanchor_C_3'></a><a href='#Footnote_C_3'><sup>[C]</sup></a></div> + <div class='line2'>All in the bloomèd May,</div> + <div class='line'>We pri' thee pass not on;</div> + <div class='line'>If thou dost leave the sun,</div> + <div class='line'>Delight is with thee gone,</div> + <div class='line3'>Oh! stay.</div> + <div class='line'>Thou art the fairest of thy feres,</div> + <div class='line2'>We pri' thee pass not on.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name='Page_59'></a><a name='Page_58'></a>Contributions to Periodicals 1831-32<a name='Page_60'></a></h2> + +<h2><a name='Page_61'></a>XXV</h2> + +<p><b>A Fragment</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>The Gem: a Literary Annual</i>. London: W. Marshall, +Holborn Bars, mdcccxxxi.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Where is the Giant of the Sun, which stood</div> + <div class='line'>In the midnoon the glory of old Rhodes,</div> + <div class='line'>A perfect Idol, with profulgent brows</div> + <div class='line'>Far sheening down the purple seas to those</div> + <div class='line'>Who sailed from Mizraim underneath the star</div> + <div class='line'>Named of the Dragon—and between whose limbs</div> + <div class='line'>Of brassy vastness broad-blown Argosies</div> + <div class='line'>Drave into haven? Yet endure unscathed</div> + <div class='line'>Of changeful cycles the great Pyramids</div> + <div class='line'>Broad-based amid the fleeting sands, and sloped</div> + <div class='line'>Into the slumberous summer noon; but where,</div> + <div class='line'>Mysterious Egypt, are thine obelisks</div> + <div class='line'>Graven with gorgeous emblems undiscerned?</div> + <div class='line'>Thy placid Sphinxes brooding o'er the Nile?</div> + <div class='line'>Thy shadowy Idols in the solitudes,</div> + <div class='line'>Awful Memnonian countenances calm</div> + <div class='line'>Looking athwart the burning flats, far off</div> + <div class='line'>Seen by the high-necked camel on the verge</div> + <div class='line'>Journeying southward? Where are thy monuments</div><a name='Page_62'></a> + <div class='line'>Piled by the strong and sunborn Anakim</div> + <div class='line'>Over their crowned brethren <span class="greek" title="[Greek: ON]">ΟΝ</span> and <span class="greek" title="[Greek: ORÊ]">ΟΡΕ</span>?</div> + <div class='line'>Thy Memnon, when his peaceful lips are kissed</div> + <div class='line'>With earliest rays, that from his mother's eyes</div> + <div class='line'>Flow over the Arabian bay, no more</div> + <div class='line'>Breathes low into the charmed ears of morn</div> + <div class='line'>Clear melody flattering the crisped Nile</div> + <div class='line'>By columned Thebes. Old Memphis hath gone down:</div> + <div class='line'>The Pharaohs are no more: somewhere in death</div> + <div class='line'>They sleep with staring eyes and gilded lips,</div> + <div class='line'>Wrapped round with spiced cerements in old grots</div> + <div class='line'>Rock-hewn and sealed for ever.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_63'></a>XXVI</h2> + +<p><b>Anacreontics</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>The Gem: a Literary Annual</i>. London: W. Marshall, +Holborn Bars, mdcccxxxi.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>With roses musky breathed,</div> + <div class='line'>And drooping daffodilly,</div> + <div class='line'>And silverleaved lily,</div> + <div class='line'>And ivy darkly-wreathed,</div> + <div class='line'>I wove a crown before her,</div> + <div class='line'>For her I love so dearly,</div> + <div class='line'>A garland for Lenora.</div> + <div class='line'>With a silken cord I bound it.</div> + <div class='line'>Lenora, laughing clearly</div> + <div class='line'>A light and thrilling laughter,</div> + <div class='line'>About her forehead wound it,</div> + <div class='line'>And loved me ever after.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_64'></a>XXVII</h2> + +<p>[Published in <i>The Gem: a Literary Annual</i>. London: W. Marshall, +Holborn Bars, mdcccxxxi.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line3'>O sad <i>No more!</i> O sweet <i>No more!</i></div> + <div class='line8'>O strange <i>No more!</i></div> + <div class='line3'>By a mossed brookbank on a stone</div> + <div class='line3'>I smelt a wildweed flower alone;</div> + <div class='line3'>There was a ringing in my ears,</div> + <div class='line3'>And both my eyes gushed out with tears.</div> + <div class='line'>Surely all pleasant things had gone before,</div> + <div class='line'>Low-buried fathom deep beneath with thee,</div> + <div class='line8'>NO MORE!</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_65'></a>XXVIII</h2> + +<p><b>Sonnet</b></p> + +<p>[Published in the <i>Englishman's Magazine</i>, August, 1831. London: +Edward Moxon, 64 New Bond Street. Reprinted in <i>Friendship's Offering: +a Literary Album</i> for 1833. London; Smith and Elder.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Check every outflash, every ruder sally</div> + <div class='line2'>Of thought and speech; speak low, and give up wholly</div> + <div class='line2'>Thy spirit to mild-minded Melancholy;</div> + <div class='line'>This is the place. Through yonder poplar alley</div> + <div class='line'>Below, the blue-green river windeth slowly;</div> + <div class='line2'>But in the middle of the sombre valley</div> + <div class='line2'>The crispèd waters whisper musically,</div> + <div class='line'>And all the haunted place is dark and holy.</div> + <div class='line'>The nightingale, with long and low preamble,</div> + <div class='line2'>Warbled from yonder knoll of solemn larches,</div> + <div class='line2'>And in and out the woodbine's flowery arches</div> + <div class='line'>The summer midges wove their wanton gambol,</div> + <div class='line2'>And all the white-stemmed pinewood slept above—</div> + <div class='line2'>When in this valley first I told my love.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_66'></a>XXIX</h2> + +<p><b>Sonnet</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>Friendships Offering: a Literary Album</i> for 1832. +London: Smith and Elder.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh:</div> + <div class='line2'>Thy woes are birds of passage, transitory:</div> + <div class='line2'>Thy spirit, circled with a living glory,</div> + <div class='line'>In summer still a summer joy resumeth.</div> + <div class='line'>Alone my hopeless melancholy gloometh,</div> + <div class='line2'>Like a lone cypress, through the twilight hoary,</div> + <div class='line'>From an old garden where no flower bloometh,</div> + <div class='line2'>One cypress on an inland promontory.</div> + <div class='line'>But yet my lonely spirit follows thine,</div> + <div class='line2'>As round the rolling earth night follows day:</div> + <div class='line'>But yet thy lights on my horizon shine</div> + <div class='line2'>Into my night when thou art far away;</div> + <div class='line'>I am so dark, alas! and thou so bright,</div> + <div class='line'>When we two meet there's never perfect light.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_67'></a>XXX</h2> + +<p><b>Sonnet</b></p> + +<p>[Published in the <i>Yorkshire Literary Annual</i> for 1832. Edited by C.F. +Edgar, London: Longman and Co. Reprinted in the <i>Athenæum</i>, 4 May, +1867.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>There are three things that fill my heart with sighs</div> + <div class='line'>And steep my soul in laughter (when I view</div> + <div class='line'>Fair maiden forms moving like melodies),</div> + <div class='line'>Dimples, roselips, and eyes of any hue.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>There are three things beneath the blessed skies</div> + <div class='line'>For which I live—black eyes, and brown and blue;</div> + <div class='line'>I hold them all most dear; but oh! black eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>I live and die, and only die for you.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Of late such eyes looked at me—while I mused</div> + <div class='line'>At sunset, underneath a shadowy plane</div> + <div class='line'>In old Bayona, nigh the Southern Sea—</div> + <div class='line'>From an half-open lattice looked at <i>me</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>I saw no more only those eyes—confused</div> + <div class='line'>And dazzled to the heart with glorious pain.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name='Page_69'></a>Poems, 1833</h2> + +<p><a name='Page_70'></a>[The poems numbered XXXI-XXXIX were published in the 1832 volume +(<i>Poems by Alfred Tennyson</i>. London: Edward Moxon, 94 New Bond Street. +MDCCCXXXIII; published December, 1832), and were thereafter +suppressed.]</p> + +<h2><a name='Page_71'></a>XXXI</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Sonnet</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Oh, Beauty, passing beauty! sweetest Sweet!</div> + <div class='line2'>How canst thou let me waste my youth in sighs;</div> + <div class='line'>I only ask to sit beside thy feet.</div> + <div class='line2'>Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold</div> + <div class='line2'>My arms about thee—scarcely dare to speak.</div> + <div class='line'>And nothing seems to me so wild and bold,</div> + <div class='line2'>As with one kiss to touch thy blessèd cheek.</div> + <div class='line'>Methinks if I should kiss thee, no control</div> + <div class='line2'>Within the thrilling brain could keep afloat</div> + <div class='line2'>The subtle spirit. Even while I spoke,</div> + <div class='line'>The bare word KISS hath made my inner soul</div> + <div class='line2'>To tremble like a lutestring, ere the note</div> + <div class='line2'>Hath melted in the silence that it broke.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_72'></a>XXXII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>The Hesperides</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line2'>Hesperus and his daughters three</div> + <div class='line2'>That sing about the golden tree.</div> + <div class='line2'>—COMUS.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The Northwind fall'n, in the newstarréd night</div> + <div class='line'>Zidonian Hanno, voyaging beyond</div> + <div class='line'>The hoary promontory of Soloë</div> + <div class='line'>Past Thymiaterion, in calmèd bays,</div> + <div class='line'>Between the Southern and the Western Horn,</div> + <div class='line'>Heard neither warbling of the nightingale,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor melody o' the Lybian lotusflute</div> + <div class='line'>Blown seaward from the shore; but from a slope</div> + <div class='line'>That ran bloombright into the Atlantic blue,</div> + <div class='line'>Beneath a highland leaning down a weight</div> + <div class='line'>Of cliffs, and zoned below with cedarshade,</div> + <div class='line'>Came voices, like the voices in a dream,</div> + <div class='line'>Continuous till he reached the other sea.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Song</div> + <div class='heading'>I</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The golden apple, the golden apple, the hallowed fruit,</div> + <div class='line'>Guard it well, guard it warily,</div> + <div class='line'>Singing airily,</div> + <div class='line'>Standing about the charméd root.</div> + <div class='line'>Round about all is mute,</div> + <div class='line'>As the snowfield on the mountain-peaks,</div><a name='Page_73'></a> + <div class='line'>As the sandfield at the mountain-foot.</div> + <div class='line'>Crocodiles in briny creeks</div> + <div class='line'>Sleep and stir not: all is mute.</div> + <div class='line'>If ye sing not, if ye make false measure,</div> + <div class='line'>We shall lose eternal pleasure,</div> + <div class='line'>Worth eternal want of rest.</div> + <div class='line'>Laugh not loudly: watch the treasure</div> + <div class='line'>Of the wisdom of the West.</div> + <div class='line'>In a corner wisdom whispers. Five and three</div> + <div class='line'>(Let it not be preached abroad) make an awful mystery.</div> + <div class='line'>For the blossom unto three-fold music bloweth;</div> + <div class='line'>Evermore it is born anew;</div> + <div class='line'>And the sap to three-fold music floweth,</div> + <div class='line'>From the root</div> + <div class='line'>Drawn in the dark,</div> + <div class='line'>Up to the fruit,</div> + <div class='line'>Creeping under the fragrant bark,</div> + <div class='line'>Liquid gold, honeysweet thro' and thro'.</div> + <div class='line'>Keen-eyed Sisters, singing airily,</div> + <div class='line'>Looking warily</div> + <div class='line'>Every way,</div> + <div class='line'>Guard the apple night and day,</div> + <div class='line'>Lest one from the East come and take it away.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Father Hesper, Father Hesper, watch, watch, ever and aye,</div> + <div class='line'>Looking under silver hair with a silver eye.</div> + <div class='line'>Father, twinkle not thy stedfast sight;</div><a name='Page_74'></a> + <div class='line'>Kingdoms lapse, and climates change, and races die;</div> + <div class='line'>Honour comes with mystery;</div> + <div class='line'>Hoarded wisdom brings delight.</div> + <div class='line'>Number, tell them over and number</div> + <div class='line'>How many the mystic fruit-tree holds,</div> + <div class='line'>Lest the redcombed dragon slumber</div> + <div class='line'>Rolled together in purple folds.</div> + <div class='line'>Look to him, father, lest he wink, and the golden apple be stol'n away,</div> + <div class='line'>For his ancient heart is drunk with overwatchings night and day,</div> + <div class='line'>Round about the hallowed fruit tree curled—</div> + <div class='line'>Sing away, sing aloud and evermore in the wind, without stop,</div> + <div class='line'>Lest his scalèd eyelid drop,</div> + <div class='line'>For he is older than the world.</div> + <div class='line'>If he waken, we waken,</div> + <div class='line'>Rapidly levelling eager eyes.</div> + <div class='line'>If he sleep, we sleep,</div> + <div class='line'>Dropping the eyelid over the eyes.</div> + <div class='line'>If the golden apple be taken</div> + <div class='line'>The world will be overwise.</div> + <div class='line'>Five links, a golden chain, are we,</div> + <div class='line'>Hesper, the dragon, and sisters three,</div> + <div class='line'>Bound about the golden tree.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>III<a name='Page_75'></a></div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Father Hesper, Father Hesper, watch, watch, night and day,</div> + <div class='line'>Lest the old wound of the world be healèd,</div> + <div class='line'>The glory unsealèd,</div> + <div class='line'>The golden apple stol'n away,</div> + <div class='line'>And the ancient secret revealèd.</div> + <div class='line'>Look from west to east along:</div> + <div class='line'>Father, old Himla weakens, Caucasus is bold and strong.</div> + <div class='line'>Wandering waters unto wandering waters call;</div> + <div class='line'>Let them clash together, foam and fall.</div> + <div class='line'>Out of watchings, out of wiles,</div> + <div class='line'>Comes the bliss of secret smiles,</div> + <div class='line'>All things are not told to all,</div> + <div class='line'>Half round the mantling night is drawn,</div> + <div class='line'>Purplefringed with even and dawn.</div> + <div class='line'>Hesper hateth Phosphor, evening hateth morn.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>IV</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Every flower and every fruit the redolent breath</div> + <div class='line'>Of this warm seawind ripeneth,</div> + <div class='line'>Arching the billow in his sleep;</div> + <div class='line'>But the land-wind wandereth,</div> + <div class='line'>Broken by the highland-steep,</div> + <div class='line'>Two streams upon the violet deep:</div> + <div class='line'>For the western sun and the western star,</div> + <div class='line'>And the low west wind, breathing afar,</div> + <div class='line'>The end of day and beginning of night</div><a name='Page_76'></a> + <div class='line'>Make the apple holy and bright,</div> + <div class='line'>Holy and bright, round and full, bright and blest,</div> + <div class='line'>Mellowed in a land of rest;</div> + <div class='line'>Watch it warily day and night;</div> + <div class='line'>All good things are in the west,</div> + <div class='line'>Till midnoon the cool east light</div> + <div class='line'>Is shut out by the round of the tall hillbrow;</div> + <div class='line'>But when the fullfaced sunset yellowly</div> + <div class='line'>Stays on the flowering arch of the bough,</div> + <div class='line'>The luscious fruitage clustereth mellowly,</div> + <div class='line'>Goldenkernelled, goldencored,</div> + <div class='line'>Sunset ripened, above on the tree,</div> + <div class='line'>The world is wasted with fire and sword,</div> + <div class='line'>But the apple of gold hangs over the sea,</div> + <div class='line'>Five links, a golden chain, are we,</div> + <div class='line'>Hesper, the dragon, and sisters three,</div> + <div class='line3'>Daughters three,</div> + <div class='line3'>Bound about</div> + <div class='line3'>All round about</div> + <div class='line'>The gnarlèd bole of the charmèd tree,</div> + <div class='line'>The golden apple, the golden apple, the hallowed fruit,</div> + <div class='line'>Guard it well, guard it warily,</div> + <div class='line3'>Watch it warily,</div> + <div class='line3'>Singing airily,</div> + <div class='line'>Standing about the charmèd root.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_77'></a>XXXIII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Rosalind</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line2'>My Rosalind, my Rosalind,</div> + <div class='line'>Bold, subtle, careless Rosalind,</div> + <div class='line'>Is one of those who know no strife</div> + <div class='line'>Of inward woe or outward fear;</div> + <div class='line'>To whom the slope and stream of life,</div> + <div class='line'>The life before, the life behind,</div> + <div class='line'>In the ear, from far and near,</div> + <div class='line'>Chimeth musically clear.</div> + <div class='line'>My falconhearted Rosalind</div> + <div class='line'>Fullsailed before a vigorous wind,</div> + <div class='line'>Is one of those who cannot weep</div> + <div class='line'>For others' woes, but overleap</div> + <div class='line'>All the petty shocks and fears</div> + <div class='line'>That trouble life in early years,</div> + <div class='line'>With a flash of frolic scorn</div> + <div class='line'>And keen delight, that never falls</div> + <div class='line'>Away from freshness, self-upborne</div> + <div class='line'>With such gladness, as, whenever</div> + <div class='line'>The freshflushing springtime calls</div> + <div class='line'>To the flooding waters cool,</div> + <div class='line'>Young fishes, on an April morn,</div> + <div class='line'>Up and down a rapid river,</div><a name='Page_78'></a> + <div class='line'>Leap the little waterfalls</div> + <div class='line'>That sing into the pebbled pool.</div> + <div class='line'>My happy falcon, Rosalind,</div> + <div class='line'>Hath daring fancies of her own,</div> + <div class='line'>Fresh as the dawn before the day,</div> + <div class='line'>Fresh as the early seasmell blown</div> + <div class='line'>Through vineyards from an inland bay.</div> + <div class='line'>My Rosalind, my Rosalind,</div> + <div class='line'>Because no shadow on you falls,</div> + <div class='line'>Think you hearts are tennis balls</div> + <div class='line'>To play with, wanton Rosalind?</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_79'></a>XXXIV</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Song</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Who can say</div> + <div class='line'>Why To-day</div> + <div class='line'>To-morrow will be yesterday?</div> + <div class='line'>Who can tell</div> + <div class='line'>Why to smell</div> + <div class='line'>The violet, recalls the dewy prime</div> + <div class='line'>Of youth and buried time?</div> + <div class='line'>The cause is nowhere found in rhyme.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_80'></a>XXXV</h2> + +<p><i>Written on hearing of the outbreak of the Polish Insurrection.</i></p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Sonnet</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Blow ye the trumpet, gather from afar</div> + <div class='line2'>The hosts to battle: be not bought and sold.</div> + <div class='line2'>Arise, brave Poles, the boldest of the bold;</div> + <div class='line'>Break through your iron shackles—fling them far.</div> + <div class='line'>O for those days of Piast, ere the Czar</div> + <div class='line2'>Grew to this strength among his deserts cold;</div> + <div class='line2'>When even to Moscow's cupolas were rolled</div> + <div class='line'>The growing murmurs of the Polish war!</div> + <div class='line'>Now must your noble anger blaze out more</div> + <div class='line2'>Than when from Sobieski, clan by clan,</div> + <div class='line'>The Moslem myriads fell, and fled before—</div> + <div class='line2'>Than when Zamoysky smote the Tartar Khan,</div> + <div class='line'>Than earlier, when on the Baltic shore</div> + <div class='line2'>Boleslas drove the Pomeranian.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_81'></a>XXXVI</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>O Darling Room<a name='FNanchor_D_4'></a><a href='#Footnote_D_4'><sup>[D]</sup></a></div> + <div class='heading'>I</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O darling room, my heart's delight,</div> + <div class='line'>Dear room, the apple of my sight,</div> + <div class='line'>With thy two couches soft and white,</div> + <div class='line'>There is no room so exquisite,</div> + <div class='line'>No little room so warm and bright</div> + <div class='line'>Wherein to read, wherein to write.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>For I the Nonnenwerth have seen,</div> + <div class='line'>And Oberwinter's vineyards green,</div> + <div class='line'>Musical Lurlei; and between</div> + <div class='line'>The hills to Bingen have I been,</div> + <div class='line'>Bingen in Darmstadt, where the Rhene</div> + <div class='line'>Curves towards Mentz, a woody scene.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>III</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Yet never did there meet my sight,</div> + <div class='line'>In any town, to left or right,</div> + <div class='line'>A little room so exquisite,</div> + <div class='line'>With two such couches soft and white;</div> + <div class='line'>Not any room so warm and bright,</div> + <div class='line'>Wherein to read, wherein to write.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_82'></a>XXXVII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>To Christopher North</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>You did late review my lays,</div> + <div class='line2'>Crusty Christopher;</div> + <div class='line'>You did mingle blame and praise,</div> + <div class='line2'>Rusty Christopher.</div> + <div class='line'>When I learnt from whom it came,</div> + <div class='line'>I forgave you all the blame,</div> + <div class='line2'>Musty Christopher;</div> + <div class='line'>I could <i>not</i> forgive the praise,</div> + <div class='line2'>Fusty Christopher.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>[This epigram was Tennyson's reply to an article by Professor +Wilson—'Christopher North'—in <i>Blackwood's Magazine</i> for May 1832, +dealing in sensible fashion with Tennyson's 1830 volume, and +ridiculing the fulsome praise lavished on him by his inconsiderate +friends—especially referring to Arthur Hallam's article in the +<i>Englishman's Magazine</i> for August, 1831.]</p> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_83'></a>XXXVIII</h2> + +<p><b>The Lotos-Eaters</b></p> + +<p>[These forty lines formed the conclusion to the original (1833) +version of the poem. When the poem was reprinted in the 1842 volumes +these lines were suppressed.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>We have had enough of motion,</div> + <div class='line'>Weariness and wild alarm,</div> + <div class='line'>Tossing on the tossing ocean,</div> + <div class='line'>Where the tuskèd seahorse walloweth</div> + <div class='line'>In a stripe of grassgreen calm,</div> + <div class='line'>At noon-tide beneath the lea;</div> + <div class='line'>And the monstrous narwhale swalloweth</div> + <div class='line'>His foamfountains in the sea.</div> + <div class='line'>Long enough the winedark wave our weary bark did carry.</div> + <div class='line'>This is lovelier and sweeter,</div> + <div class='line'>Men of Ithaca, this is meeter,</div> + <div class='line'>In the hollow rosy vale to tarry,</div> + <div class='line'>Like a dreamy Lotos-eater, a delirious Lotos-eater!</div> + <div class='line'>We will eat the Lotos, sweet</div> + <div class='line'>As the yellow honeycomb,</div> + <div class='line'>In the valley some, and some</div> + <div class='line'>On the ancient heights divine;</div> + <div class='line'>And no more roam,</div><a name='Page_84'></a> + <div class='line'>On the loud hoar foam,</div> + <div class='line'>To the melancholy home</div> + <div class='line'>At the limit of the brine,</div> + <div class='line'>The little isle of Ithaca, beneath the day's decline.</div> + <div class='line'>We'll lift no more the shattered oar,</div> + <div class='line'>No more unfurl the straining sail;</div> + <div class='line'>With the blissful Lotos-eaters pale</div> + <div class='line'>We will abide in the golden vale</div> + <div class='line'>Of the Lotos-land, till the Lotos fail;</div> + <div class='line'>We will not wander more.</div> + <div class='line'>Hark! how sweet the horned ewes bleat</div> + <div class='line'>On the solitary steeps,</div> + <div class='line'>And the merry lizard leaps,</div> + <div class='line'>And the foam-white waters pour;</div> + <div class='line'>And the dark pine weeps,</div> + <div class='line'>And the lithe vine creeps,</div> + <div class='line'>And the heavy melon sleeps</div> + <div class='line'>On the level of the shore:</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! islanders of Ithaca, we will not wander more,</div> + <div class='line'>Surely, surely, slumber is more sweet than toil, the shore</div> + <div class='line'>Than labour in the ocean, and rowing with the oar,</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! islanders of Ithaca, we will return no more.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_85'></a>XXXIX</h2> + +<p><b>A Dream of Fair Women</b></p> + +<p>[In the 1833 volume the poem opened with the following four verses, +suppressed after 1842. These Fitz Gerald considered made 'a perfect +poem by themselves.']</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>As when a man, that sails in a balloon,</div> + <div class='line2'>Downlooking sees the solid shining ground</div> + <div class='line'>Stream from beneath him in the broad blue noon,</div> + <div class='line2'>Tilth, hamlet, mead and mound:</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>And takes his flags and waves them to the mob</div> + <div class='line2'>That shout below, all faces turned to where</div> + <div class='line'>Glows rubylike the far-up crimson globe,</div> + <div class='line2'>Filled with a finer air:</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>So, lifted high, the poet at his will</div> + <div class='line2'>Lets the great world flit from him, seeing all,</div> + <div class='line'>Higher thro' secret splendours mounting still,</div> + <div class='line2'>Self-poised, nor fears to fall.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Hearing apart the echoes of his fame.</div> + <div class='line2'>While I spoke thus, the seedsman, Memory,</div> + <div class='line'>Sowed my deep-furrowed thought with many a name</div> + <div class='line2'>Whose glory will not die.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name='Page_87'></a>Miscellaneous Poems and Contributions to Periodicals<br /> +1833-1868<a name='Page_88'></a></h2> + +<h2><a name='Page_89'></a>XL</h2> + +<p><b>Cambridge</b></p> + +<p>[This poem is written in pencil on the fly-leaf of a copy of <i>Poems</i> +1833 in the Dyce Collection in South Kensington Museum. Reprinted with +many alterations in <i>Life</i>, vol. I, p. 67.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Therefore your halls, your ancient colleges,</div> + <div class='line2'>Your portals statued with old kings and queens,</div> + <div class='line'>Your bridges and your busted libraries,</div> + <div class='line2'>Wax-lighted chapels and rich carved screens,</div> + <div class='line2'>Your doctors and your proctors and your deans</div> + <div class='line'>Shall not avail you when the day-beam sports</div> + <div class='line2'>New-risen o'er awakened Albion—No,</div> + <div class='line2'>Nor yet your solemn organ-pipes that blow</div> + <div class='line'>Melodious thunders through your vacant courts</div> + <div class='line'>At morn and even; for your manner sorts</div> + <div class='line2'>Not with this age, nor with the thoughts that roll,</div> + <div class='line'>Because the words of little children preach</div> + <div class='line'>Against you,—ye that did profess to teach</div> + <div class='line2'>And have taught nothing, feeding on the soul.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_90'></a>XLI</h2> + +<p><b>The Germ of 'Maud'</b></p> + +<p>[There was published in 1837 in <i>The Tribute</i>, (a collection of +original poems by various authors, edited by Lord Northampton), a +contribution by Tennyson entitled 'Stanzas,' consisting of xvi stanzas +of varying lengths (110 lines in all). In 1855 the first xii stanzas +were published as the fourth section of the second part of 'Maud.' +Some verbal changes and transpositions of lines were made; a new +stanza (the present sixth) and several new lines were introduced, and +the xth stanza of 1837 became the xiiith of 1855. But stanzas xiii-xvi +of 1837 have never been reprinted in any edition of Tennyson's works, +though quoted in whole or part in various critical studies of the +poet. Swinburne refers to this poem as 'the poem of deepest charm and +fullest delight of pathos and melody ever written, even by Mr +Tennyson.' This poem in <i>The Tribute</i> gained Tennyson his first notice +in the <i>Edinburgh Review</i>, which had till then ignored him.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='heading'>XIII</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>But she tarries in her place</div> + <div class='line'>And I paint the beauteous face</div> + <div class='line3'>Of the maiden, that I lost,</div> + <div class='line5'>In my inner eyes again,</div> + <div class='line'>Lest my heart be overborne,</div> + <div class='line'>By the thing I hold in scorn,</div> + <div class='line3'>By a dull mechanic ghost</div> + <div class='line5'>And a juggle of the brain.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>XIV</div><a name='Page_91'></a> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>I can shadow forth my bride</div> + <div class='line3'>As I knew her fair and kind</div> + <div class='line5'>r for my wife;</div> + <div class='line'>She is lovely by my side</div> + <div class='line3'>In the silence of my life—</div> + <div class='line5'>'Tis a phantom of the mind.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>XV</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>'Tis a phantom fair and good</div> + <div class='line3'>I can call it to my side,</div> + <div class='line5'>So to guard my life from ill,</div> + <div class='line3'>Tho' its ghastly sister glide</div> + <div class='line5'>And be moved around me still</div> + <div class='line'>With the moving of the blood</div> + <div class='line3'>That is moved not of the will.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>XVI</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Let it pass, the dreary brow,</div> + <div class='line3'>Let the dismal face go by,</div> + <div class='line'>Will it lead me to the grave?</div> + <div class='line3'>Then I lose it: it will fly:</div> + <div class='line'>Can it overlast the nerves?</div> + <div class='line3'>Can it overlive the eye?</div> + <div class='line'>But the other, like a star,</div> + <div class='line'>Thro' the channel windeth far</div> + <div class='line3'>Till it fade and fail and die,</div> + <div class='line'>To its Archetype that waits</div> + <div class='line'>Clad in light by golden gates,</div> + <div class='line'>Clad in light the Spirit waits</div> + <div class='line3'>To embrace me in the sky.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_92'></a>XLII</h2> + +<p>[On the fly-leaf of a book illustrated by Bewick, in the library of +the late Lord Ravensworth, the following lines in Tennyson's autograph +were discovered in 1903.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>A gate and a field half ploughed,</div> + <div class='line'>A solitary cow,</div> + <div class='line'>A child with a broken slate,</div> + <div class='line'>And a titmarsh in the bough.</div> + <div class='line'>But where, alack, is Bewick</div> + <div class='line'>To tell the meaning now?</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_93'></a>XLIII</h2> + +<p><b>The Skipping-Rope</b></p> + +<p>[This poem, published in the second volume of <i>Poems by Alfred +Tennyson</i> (in two volumes, London, Edward Moxon, MDCCCXLII), was +reprinted in every edition until 1851, when it was suppressed.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Sure never yet was Antelope</div> + <div class='line2'>Could skip so lightly by.</div> + <div class='line'>Stand off, or else my skipping-rope</div> + <div class='line2'>Will hit you in the eye.</div> + <div class='line'>How lightly whirls the skipping-rope!</div> + <div class='line2'>How fairy-like you fly!</div> + <div class='line'>Go, get you gone, you muse and mope—</div> + <div class='line2'>I hate that silly sigh.</div> + <div class='line'>Nay, dearest, teach me how to hope,</div> + <div class='line2'>Or tell me how to die.</div> + <div class='line'>There, take it, take my skipping-rope</div> + <div class='line2'>And hang yourself thereby.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_94'></a>XLIV</h2> + +<p><b>The New Timon and the Poets</b></p> + +<p>[From <i>Punch</i>, February 28, 1846. Bulwer Lytton published in 1845 his +satirical poem 'New Timon: a Romance of London,' in which he bitterly +attacked Tennyson for the civil list pension granted the previous +year, particularly referring to the poem 'O Darling Room' in the 1833 +volume. Tennyson replied in the following vigorous verses, which made +the literary sensation of the year. Tennyson afterwards declared: 'I +never sent my lines to <i>Punch</i>. John Forster did. They were too +bitter. I do not think that I should ever have published +them.'—<i>Life</i>, vol. I, p. 245.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>We know him, out of Shakespeare's art,</div> + <div class='line2'>And those fine curses which he spoke;</div> + <div class='line'>The old Timon, with his noble heart,</div> + <div class='line2'>That, strongly loathing, greatly broke.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>So died the Old: here comes the New:</div> + <div class='line2'>Regard him: a familiar face:</div> + <div class='line'>I <i>thought</i> we knew him: What, it's you</div> + <div class='line2'>The padded man—that wears the stays—</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Who killed the girls and thrill'd the boys</div> + <div class='line2'>With dandy pathos when you wrote,</div> + <div class='line'>A Lion, you, that made a noise,</div> + <div class='line2'>And shook a mane en papillotes.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>And once you tried the Muses too:</div><a name='Page_95'></a> + <div class='line2'>You fail'd, Sir: therefore now you turn,</div> + <div class='line'>You fall on those who are to you</div> + <div class='line2'>As captain is to subaltern.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>But men of long enduring hopes,</div> + <div class='line2'>And careless what this hour may bring,</div> + <div class='line'>Can pardon little would-be Popes</div> + <div class='line2'>And Brummels, when they try to sting.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>An artist, Sir, should rest in art,</div> + <div class='line2'>And wave a little of his claim;</div> + <div class='line'>To have the deep poetic heart</div> + <div class='line2'>Is more than all poetic fame.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>But you, Sir, you are hard to please;</div> + <div class='line2'>You never look but half content:</div> + <div class='line'>Nor like a gentleman at ease</div> + <div class='line2'>With moral breadth of temperament.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>And what with spites and what with fears,</div> + <div class='line2'>You cannot let a body be:</div> + <div class='line'>It's always ringing in your ears,</div> + <div class='line2'>'They call this man as good as <i>me</i>.'</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>What profits now to understand</div> + <div class='line2'>The merits of a spotless shirt—</div> + <div class='line'>A dapper boot—a little hand—</div> + <div class='line2'>If half the little soul is dirt?</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>You</i> talk of tinsel! why we see</div><a name='Page_96'></a> + <div class='line2'>The old mark of rouge upon your cheeks.</div> + <div class='line'><i>You</i> prate of nature! you are he</div> + <div class='line'>That spilt his life about the cliques.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>A Timon you! Nay, nay, for shame:</div> + <div class='line2'>It looks too arrogant a jest—</div> + <div class='line'>The fierce old man—to take <i>his</i> name</div> + <div class='line'>You bandbox. Off, and let him rest.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_97'></a>XLV</h2> + +<p><b>Mablethorpe</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>Manchester Athænaum Album</i>, 1850. Written, 1837. +Republished, altered, in <i>Life</i>, vol. I, p. 161.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>How often, when a child I lay reclined,</div> + <div class='line2'>I took delight in this locality!</div> + <div class='line'>Here stood the infant Ilion of the mind,</div> + <div class='line2'>And here the Grecian ships did seem to be.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>And here again I come and only find</div> + <div class='line2'>The drain-cut levels of the marshy lea,—</div> + <div class='line'>Gray sand banks and pale sunsets—dreary wind,</div> + <div class='line2'>Dim shores, dense rains, and heavy clouded sea.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_98'></a>XLVI</h2> + +<p>[Published in <i>The Keepsake for 1851: an illustrated annual</i>, edited +by Miss Power. London: David Bogue. To this issue of the Keepsake +Tennyson also contributed 'Come not when I am dead' now included in +the collected Works.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>What time I wasted youthful hours</div> + <div class='line'>One of the shining wingèd powers,</div> + <div class='line'>Show'd me vast cliffs with crown of towers,</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>As towards the gracious light I bow'd,</div> + <div class='line'>They seem'd high palaces and proud,</div> + <div class='line'>Hid now and then with sliding cloud.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>He said, 'The labour is not small;</div> + <div class='line'>Yet winds the pathway free to all:—</div> + <div class='line'>Take care thou dost not fear to fall!'</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_99'></a>XLVII</h2> + +<p><b>Britons, Guard your Own</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>The Examiner</i>, January 31, 1852. Verses 1 (considerably +altered), 7, 8 and 10, are reprinted in Life, vol. I, p. 344.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Rise, Britons, rise, if manhood be not dead;</div> + <div class='line'>The world's last tempest darkens overhead;</div> + <div class='line4'>The Pope has bless'd him;</div> + <div class='line4'>The Church caress'd him;</div> + <div class='line'>He triumphs; maybe, we shall stand alone:</div> + <div class='line4'>Britons, guard your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>His ruthless host is bought with plunder'd gold,</div> + <div class='line'>By lying priest's the peasant's votes controlled.</div> + <div class='line4'>All freedom vanish'd,</div> + <div class='line4'>The true men banished,</div> + <div class='line'>He triumphs; maybe, we shall stand alone.</div> + <div class='line4'>Britons, guard your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Peace-lovers we—sweet Peace we all desire—</div> + <div class='line'>Peace-lovers we—but who can trust a liar?—</div> + <div class='line4'>Peace-lovers, haters</div> + <div class='line4'>Of shameless traitors,</div> + <div class='line'>We hate not France, but this man's heart of stone.</div> + <div class='line4'>Britons, guard your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>We hate not France, but France has lost her voice</div><a name='Page_100'></a> + <div class='line'>This man is France, the man they call her choice.</div> + <div class='line4'>By tricks and spying,</div> + <div class='line4'>By craft and lying,</div> + <div class='line'>And murder was her freedom overthrown.</div> + <div class='line4'>Britons, guard your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>'Vive l'Empereur' may follow by and bye;</div> + <div class='line'>'God save the Queen' is here a truer cry.</div> + <div class='line4'>God save the Nation,</div> + <div class='line4'>The toleration,</div> + <div class='line'>And the free speech that makes a Briton known.</div> + <div class='line4'>Britons, guard your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Rome's dearest daughter now is captive France,</div> + <div class='line'>The Jesuit laughs, and reckoning on his chance,</div> + <div class='line4'>Would, unrelenting,</div> + <div class='line4'>Kill all dissenting,</div> + <div class='line'>Till we were left to fight for truth alone.</div> + <div class='line4'>Britons, guard your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Call home your ships across Biscayan tides,</div> + <div class='line'>To blow the battle from their oaken sides.</div> + <div class='line4'>Why waste they yonder</div> + <div class='line4'>Their idle thunder?</div> + <div class='line'>Why stay they there to guard a foreign throne?</div> + <div class='line4'>Seamen, guard your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>We were the best of marksmen long ago,</div><a name='Page_101'></a> + <div class='line'>We won old battles with our strength, the bow.</div> + <div class='line4'>Now practise, yeomen,</div> + <div class='line4'>Like those bowmen,</div> + <div class='line'>Till your balls fly as their true shafts have flown.</div> + <div class='line4'>Yeomen, guard your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>His soldier-ridden Highness might incline</div> + <div class='line'>To take Sardinia, Belgium, or the Rhine:</div> + <div class='line4'>Shall we stand idle,</div> + <div class='line4'>Nor seek to bridle</div> + <div class='line'>His vile aggressions, till we stand alone?</div> + <div class='line4'>Make their cause your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Should he land here, and for one hour prevail,</div> + <div class='line'>There must no man go back to bear the tale:</div> + <div class='line4'>No man to bear it—</div> + <div class='line4'>Swear it! We swear it!</div> + <div class='line'>Although we fought the banded world alone,</div> + <div class='line4'>We swear to guard our own.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_102'></a>XLVIII</h2> + +<p><b>Hands all Round</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>The Examiner</i>, February 7, 1852. Reprinted, slightly +altered, in Life, vol. I, p. 345. Included, almost entirely +re-written, in collected Works.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>First drink a health, this solemn night,</div> + <div class='line2'>A health to England, every guest;</div> + <div class='line'>That man's the best cosmopolite</div> + <div class='line2'>Who loves his native country best.</div> + <div class='line'>May Freedom's oak for ever live</div> + <div class='line2'>With stronger life from day to day;</div> + <div class='line'>That man's the best Conservative</div> + <div class='line2'>Who lops the mouldered branch away.</div> + <div class='line5'>Hands all round!</div> + <div class='line'>God the tyrant's hope confound!</div> + <div class='line'>To this great cause of Freedom drink, my friends,</div> + <div class='line2'>And the great name of England round and round.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>A health to Europe's honest men!</div> + <div class='line2'>Heaven guard them from her tyrants' jails!</div> + <div class='line'>From wronged Poerio's noisome den,</div> + <div class='line2'>From iron limbs and tortured nails!</div> + <div class='line'>We curse the crimes of Southern kings,</div> + <div class='line2'>The Russian whips and Austrian rods—</div> + <div class='line'>We likewise have our evil things;</div> + <div class='line2'>Too much we make our Ledgers, Gods.</div> + <div class='line5'>Yet hands all round!</div> + <div class='line2'>God the tyrant's cause confound!</div><a name='Page_103'></a> + <div class='line'>To Europe's better health we drink, my friends,</div> + <div class='line2'>And the great name of England round and round.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>What health to France, if France be she</div> + <div class='line2'>Whom martial progress only charms?</div> + <div class='line'>Yet tell her—better to be free</div> + <div class='line2'>Than vanquish all the world in arms.</div> + <div class='line'>Her frantic city's flashing heats</div> + <div class='line2'>But fire, to blast the hopes of men.</div> + <div class='line'>Why change the titles of your streets?</div> + <div class='line2'>You fools, you'll want them all again.</div> + <div class='line5'>Hands all round!</div> + <div class='line2'>God the tyrant's cause confound!</div> + <div class='line'>To France, the wiser France, we drink, my friends,</div> + <div class='line2'>And the great name of England round and round.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Gigantic daughter of the West,</div> + <div class='line2'>We drink to thee across the flood,</div> + <div class='line'>We know thee most, we love thee best,</div> + <div class='line2'>For art thou not of British blood?</div> + <div class='line'>Should war's mad blast again be blown,</div> + <div class='line2'>Permit not thou the tyrant powers</div> + <div class='line'>To fight thy mother here alone,</div> + <div class='line2'>But let thy broadsides roar with ours.</div> + <div class='line5'>Hands all round!</div> + <div class='line2'>God the tyrant's cause confound!</div><a name='Page_104'></a> + <div class='line'>To our great kinsmen of the West, my friends,</div> + <div class='line2'>And the great name of England round and round.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O rise, our strong Atlantic sons,</div> + <div class='line2'>When war against our freedom springs!</div> + <div class='line'>O speak to Europe through your guns!</div> + <div class='line'>They <i>can</i> be understood by kings.</div> + <div class='line'>You must not mix our Queen with those</div> + <div class='line2'>That wish to keep their people fools;</div> + <div class='line'>Our freedom's foemen are her foes,</div> + <div class='line2'>She comprehends the race she rules.</div> + <div class='line5'>Hands all round!</div> + <div class='line2'>God the tyrant's cause confound!</div> + <div class='line'>To our dear kinsmen of the West, my friends,</div> + <div class='line2'>And the great name of England round and round.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_105'></a>XLIX</h2> + +<p><b>Suggested by Reading an Article in a Newspaper</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>The Examiner</i>, February 14, 1852, and never reprinted +nor acknowledged. The proof sheets of the poem, with alterations in +Tennyson's autograph, were offered for public sale in 1906.]</p> + +<p>To the Editor of <i>The Examiner</i>.</p> + +<p>SIR,—I have read with much interest the poems of Merlin. The enclosed +is longer than either of those, and certainly not so good: yet as I +flatter myself that it has a smack of Merlin's style in it, and as I +feel that it expresses forcibly enough some of the feelings of our +time, perhaps you may be induced to admit it.</p> + +<p>TALIESSEN.</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>How much I love this writer's manly style!</div> + <div class='line2'>By such men led, our press had ever been</div> + <div class='line'>The public conscience of our noble isle,</div> + <div class='line2'>Severe and quick to feel a civic sin,</div> + <div class='line'>To raise the people and chastise the times</div> + <div class='line'>With such a heat as lives in great creative rhymes.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O you, the Press! what good from you might spring!</div> + <div class='line2'>What power is yours to blast a cause or bless!</div> + <div class='line'>I fear for you, as for some youthful king,</div> + <div class='line2'>Lest you go wrong from power in excess.</div> + <div class='line'>Take heed of your wide privileges! we</div> + <div class='line'>The thinking men of England, loathe a tyranny.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>A freeman is, I doubt not, freest here;</div><a name='Page_106'></a> + <div class='line2'>The single voice may speak his mind aloud;</div> + <div class='line'>An honest isolation need not fear</div> + <div class='line2'>The Court, the Church, the Parliament, the crowd.</div> + <div class='line'>No, nor the Press! and look you well to that—</div> + <div class='line'>We must not dread in you the nameless autocrat.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>And you, dark Senate of the public pen,</div> + <div class='line2'>You may not, like yon tyrant, deal in spies.</div> + <div class='line'>Yours are the public acts of public men,</div> + <div class='line2'>But yours are not their household privacies.</div> + <div class='line'>I grant you one of the great Powers on earth,</div> + <div class='line'>But be not you the blatant traitors of the hearth.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>You hide the hand that writes: it must be so,</div> + <div class='line2'>For better so you fight for public ends;</div> + <div class='line'>But some you strike can scarce return the blow;</div> + <div class='line2'>You should be all the nobler, O my friends.</div> + <div class='line'>Be noble, you! nor work with faction's tools</div> + <div class='line'>To charm a lower sphere of fulminating fools.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>But knowing all your power to heat or cool,</div> + <div class='line2'>To soothe a civic wound or keep it raw,</div> + <div class='line'>Be loyal, if you wish for wholesome rule:</div> + <div class='line2'>Our ancient boast is this—we reverence law.</div> + <div class='line'>We still were loyal in our wildest fights,</div> + <div class='line'>Or loyally disloyal battled for our rights.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O Grief and Shame if while I preach of laws</div><a name='Page_107'></a> + <div class='line2'>Whereby to guard our Freedom from offence—</div> + <div class='line'>And trust an ancient manhood and the cause</div> + <div class='line2'>Of England and her health of commonsense—</div> + <div class='line'>There hang within the heavens a dark disgrace,</div> + <div class='line'>Some vast Assyrian doom to burst upon our race.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>I feel the thousand cankers of our State,</div> + <div class='line2'>I fain would shake their triple-folded ease,</div> + <div class='line'>The hogs who can believe in nothing great,</div> + <div class='line2'>Sneering bedridden in the down of Peace</div> + <div class='line'>Over their scrips and shares, their meats and wine,</div> + <div class='line'>With stony smirks at all things human and divine!</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>I honour much, I say, this man's appeal.</div> + <div class='line2'>We drag so deep in our commercial mire,</div> + <div class='line'>We move so far from greatness, that I feel</div> + <div class='line2'>Exception to be character'd in fire.</div> + <div class='line'>Who looks for Godlike greatness here shall see</div> + <div class='line'>The British Goddess, sleek Respectability.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Alas for her and all her small delights!</div> + <div class='line2'>She feels not how the social frame is rack'd.</div> + <div class='line'>She loves a little scandal which excites;</div> + <div class='line2'>A little feeling is a want of tact.</div> + <div class='line'>For her there lie in wait millions of foes,</div> + <div class='line'>And yet the 'not too much' is all the rule she knows.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Poor soul! behold her: what decorous calm!</div><a name='Page_108'></a> + <div class='line2'>She, with her week-day worldliness sufficed,</div> + <div class='line'>Stands in her pew and hums her decent psalm</div> + <div class='line2'>With decent dippings at the name of Christ!</div> + <div class='line'>And she has mov'd in that smooth way so long,</div> + <div class='line'>She hardly can believe that she shall suffer wrong.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Alas, our Church! alas, her growing ills,</div> + <div class='line2'>And those who tolerate not her tolerance,</div> + <div class='line'>But needs must sell the burthen of their wills</div> + <div class='line2'>To that half-pagan harlot kept by France!</div> + <div class='line'>Free subjects of the kindliest of all thrones,</div> + <div class='line'>Headlong they plunge their doubts among old rags and bones.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Alas, Church writers, altercating tribes—</div> + <div class='line2'>The vessel and your Church may sink in storms.</div> + <div class='line'>Christ cried: Woe, woe, to Pharisees and Scribes!</div> + <div class='line2'>Like them, you bicker less for truth than forms.</div> + <div class='line'>I sorrow when I read the things you write,</div> + <div class='line'>What unheroic pertness! what un-Christian spite!</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Alas, our youth, so clever yet so small,</div> + <div class='line2'>Thin dilletanti deep in nature's plan,</div> + <div class='line'>Who make the emphatic One, by whom is all,</div> + <div class='line2'>An essence less concentred than a man!</div> + <div class='line'>Better wild Mahmoud's war-cry once again!</div> + <div class='line'>O fools, we want a manlike God and Godlike men!</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Go, frightful omens. Yet once more I turn</div><a name='Page_109'></a> + <div class='line2'>To you that mould men's thoughts; I call on you</div> + <div class='line'>To make opinion warlike, lest we learn</div> + <div class='line2'>A sharper lesson than we ever knew.</div> + <div class='line'>I hear a thunder though the skies are fair,</div> + <div class='line'>But shrill you, loud and long, the warning-note:</div> + <div class='line3'>Prepare!</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_110'></a>L</h2> + +<p>[Lord Tennyson wrote, by Royal request, two stanzas which were sung as +part of <i>God Save the Queen</i> at a State concert in connection with the +Princess Royal's marriage: these were printed in the <i>Times</i> of +January 26, 1858.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>God bless our Prince and Bride!</div> + <div class='line'>God keep their lands allied,</div> + <div class='line2'>God save the Queen!</div> + <div class='line'>Clothe them with righteousness,</div> + <div class='line'>Crown them with happiness,</div> + <div class='line'>Them with all blessings bless,</div> + <div class='line2'>God save the Queen.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Fair fall this hallow'd hour,</div> + <div class='line'>Farewell our England's flower,</div> + <div class='line2'>God save the Queen!</div> + <div class='line'>Farewell, fair rose of May!</div> + <div class='line'>Let both the peoples say,</div> + <div class='line'>God bless thy marriage-day,</div> + <div class='line2'>God bless the Queen.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_111'></a>LI</h2> + +<p><b>The Ringlet</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>Enoch Arden</i> volume (London: E. Moxon & Co, 1864) and +never reprinted.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>'Your ringlets, your ringlets,</div> + <div class='line2'>That look so golden-gay,</div> + <div class='line'>If you will give me one, but one,</div> + <div class='line2'>To kiss it night and day,</div> + <div class='line'>Then never chilling touch of Time</div> + <div class='line2'>Will turn it silver-gray;</div> + <div class='line'>And then shall I know it is all true gold</div> + <div class='line'>To flame and sparkle and stream as of old,</div> + <div class='line'>Till all the comets in heaven are cold,</div> + <div class='line2'>And all her stars decay.'</div> + <div class='line'>'Then take it, love, and put it by;</div> + <div class='line'>This cannot change, nor yet can I.'</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>'My ringlet, my ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>That art so golden-gay,</div> + <div class='line'>Now never chilling touch of Time</div> + <div class='line2'>Can turn thee silver-gray;</div> + <div class='line'>And a lad may wink, and a girl may hint,</div> + <div class='line2'>And a fool may say his say;</div> + <div class='line'>For my doubts and fears were all amiss,</div><a name='Page_112'></a> + <div class='line'>And I swear henceforth by this and this,</div> + <div class='line'>That a doubt will only come for a kiss,</div> + <div class='line2'>And a fear to be kissed away.'</div> + <div class='line'>'Then kiss it, love, and put it by:</div> + <div class='line'>If this can change, why so can I.'</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>I kiss'd you night and day,</div> + <div class='line'>And Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>You still are golden-gay,</div> + <div class='line'>But Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>You should be silver-gray:</div> + <div class='line'>For what is this which now I'm told,</div> + <div class='line'>I that took you for true gold,</div> + <div class='line'>She that gave you's bought and sold,</div> + <div class='line5'>Sold, sold.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>She blush'd a rosy red,</div> + <div class='line'>When Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>She clipt you from her head,</div> + <div class='line'>And Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>She gave you me, and said,</div> + <div class='line'>'Come, kiss it, love, and put it by:</div> + <div class='line'>If this can change, why so can I.'</div> + <div class='line'>O fie, you golden nothing, fie</div> + <div class='line5'>You golden lie.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div><a name='Page_113'></a> + <div class='line2'>I count you much to blame,</div> + <div class='line'>For Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>You put me much to shame,</div> + <div class='line'>So Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>I doom you to the flame.</div> + <div class='line'>For what is this which now I learn,</div> + <div class='line'>Has given all my faith a turn?</div> + <div class='line'>Burn, you glossy heretic, burn,</div> + <div class='line5'>Burn, burn.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_114'></a>LII</h2> + +<p><b>Song</b></p> + +<p>[This first form of the Song in <i>The Princess</i> ('Home they brought her +warrior dead') was published only in <i>Selections from Tennyson</i>. +London: E. Moxon & Co, 1864.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Home they brought him slain with spears.</div> + <div class='line2'>They brought him home at even-fall:</div> + <div class='line'>All alone she sits and hears</div> + <div class='line2'>Echoes in his empty hall,</div> + <div class='line3'>Sounding on the morrow.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The Sun peeped in from open field,</div> + <div class='line2'>The boy began to leap and prance,</div> + <div class='line2'>Rode upon his father's lance,</div> + <div class='line'>Beat upon his father's shield—</div> + <div class='line3'>'Oh hush, my joy, my sorrow.'</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_115'></a>LIII</h2> + +<p><b>1865-1866</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>Good Words</i> for March 1, 1868 as a decorative page, +with an accompanying full page plate by T. Dalziel. The lines were +never reprinted.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>I stood on a tower in the wet,</div> + <div class='line'>And New Year and Old Year met,</div> + <div class='line'>And winds were roaring and blowing;</div> + <div class='line'>And I said, 'O years that meet in tears,</div> + <div class='line'>Have ye aught that is worth the knowing?</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>'Science enough and exploring</div> + <div class='line'>Wanderers coming and going</div> + <div class='line'>Matter enough for deploring</div> + <div class='line'>But aught that is worth the knowing?'</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Seas at my feet were flowing</div> + <div class='line'>Waves on the shingle pouring,</div> + <div class='line'>Old Year roaring and blowing</div> + <div class='line'>And New Year blowing and roaring.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2><a name='Page_116'></a><a name='Page_117'></a>The Lover's Tale<br /> +1833</h2> + +<p><a name='Page_118'></a>[It was originally intended by Tennyson that this poem should +form part of his 1833 volume. It was put in type and, according to +custom, copies were distributed among his friends, when, on the eve of +publication, he decided to omit it. Again, in 1869, it was sent to +press with a new third part added, and was again withdrawn, the third +part only—'The Golden Supper,' founded on a story in Boccaccio's +<i>Decameron</i>—being published in the volume, 'The Holy Grail.' In 1866, +1870 and 1875, attempts had been made by Mr Herne Shepherd to publish +editions of 'The Lover's Tale,' reprinted from stray proof copies of +the 1833 printing. Each of these attempts was repressed by Tennyson, +and at last in 1879 the complete poem, as now included in the +collected Works, was issued, with an apologetic reference to the +necessity of reprinting the poem to prevent its circulation in an +unauthorised form. But the 1879 issue is considerably altered from the +original issue of 1833, as written by Tennyson in his nineteenth year. +Since only as a product of Tennyson's youth does the poem merit any +attention, it has seemed good to reprint it here as originally +written.]</p> + +<p><a name='Page_119'></a><b><br />A FRAGMENT</b></p> + +<p>The Poem of the Lover's Tale (the lover is supposed to be himself a +poet) was written in my nineteenth year, and consequently contains +nearly as many faults as words. That I deemed it not wholly unoriginal +is my only apology for its publication—an apology lame and poor, and +somewhat impertinent to boot: so that if its infirmities meet with +more laughter than charity in the world, I shall not raise my voice in +its defence. I am aware how deficient the Poem is in point of art, and +it is not without considerable misgivings that I have ventured to +publish even this fragment of it. 'Enough,' says the old proverb, 'is +as good as a feast.'—(Tennyson's original introductory note.)</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Here far away, seen from the topmost cliff,</div> + <div class='line'>Filling with purple gloom the vacancies</div> + <div class='line'>Between the tufted hills the sloping seas</div> + <div class='line'>Hung in mid-heaven, and half-way down rare sails,</div> + <div class='line'>White as white clouds, floated from sky to sky.</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! pleasant breast of waters, quiet bay,</div> + <div class='line'>Like to a quiet mind in the loud world,</div> + <div class='line'>Where the chafed breakers of the outer sea</div> + <div class='line'>Sunk powerless, even as anger falls aside,</div> + <div class='line'>And withers on the breast of peaceful love,</div> + <div class='line'>Thou didst receive that belt of pines, that fledged</div> + <div class='line'>The hills that watch'd thee, as Love watcheth Love,—</div> + <div class='line'>In thine own essence, and delight thyself</div><a name='Page_120'></a> + <div class='line'>To make it wholly thine on sunny days.</div> + <div class='line'>Keep thou thy name of 'Lover's bay': See, Sirs,</div> + <div class='line'>Even now the Goddess of the Past, that takes</div> + <div class='line'>The heart, and sometimes toucheth but one string,</div> + <div class='line'>That quivers, and is silent, and sometimes</div> + <div class='line'>Sweeps suddenly all its half-moulder'd chords</div> + <div class='line'>To an old melody, begins to play</div> + <div class='line'>On those first-moved fibres of the brain.</div> + <div class='line'>I come, Great mistress of the ear and eye:</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! lead me tenderly, for fear the mind</div> + <div class='line'>Rain thro' my sight, and strangling sorrow weigh</div> + <div class='line'>Mine utterance with lameness. Tho' long years</div> + <div class='line'>Have hallowed out a valley and a gulf</div> + <div class='line'>Betwixt the native land of Love and me,</div> + <div class='line'>Breathe but a little on me, and the sail</div> + <div class='line'>Will draw me to the rising of the sun,</div> + <div class='line'>The lucid chambers of the morning star,</div> + <div class='line'>And East of life.</div> + <div class='line10'>Permit me, friend, I prithee,</div> + <div class='line'>To pass my hand across my brows, and muse</div> + <div class='line'>On those dear hills, that nevermore will meet</div> + <div class='line'>The sight that throbs and aches beneath my touch,</div> + <div class='line'>As tho' there beat a heart in either eye;</div> + <div class='line'>For when the outer lights are darken'd thus,</div> + <div class='line'>The memory's vision hath a keener edge.</div> + <div class='line'>It grows upon me now—the semicircle</div> + <div class='line'>Of dark blue waters and the narrow fringe</div> + <div class='line'>Of curving beach—its wreaths of dripping green—</div> + <div class='line'>Its pale pink shells—the summer-house aloft</div> + <div class='line'>That open'd on the pines with doors of glass,</div><a name='Page_121'></a> + <div class='line'>A mountain nest the pleasure boat that rock'd</div> + <div class='line'>Light-green with its own shadow, keel to keel,</div> + <div class='line'>Upon the crispings of the dappled waves</div> + <div class='line'>That blanched upon its side.</div> + <div class='line12'>O Love, O Hope,</div> + <div class='line'>They come, they crowd upon me all at once,</div> + <div class='line'>Moved from the cloud of unforgotten things,</div> + <div class='line'>That sometimes on the horizon of the mind</div> + <div class='line'>Lies folded—often sweeps athwart in storm—</div> + <div class='line'>They flash across the darkness of my brain,</div> + <div class='line'>The many pleasant days, the moolit nights,</div> + <div class='line'>The dewy dawnings and the amber eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>When thou and I, Camilla, thou and I</div> + <div class='line'>Were borne about the bay, or safely moor'd</div> + <div class='line'>Beneath some low brow'd cavern, where the wave</div> + <div class='line'>Plash'd sapping its worn ribs (the while without,</div> + <div class='line'>And close above us, sang the wind-tost pine,</div> + <div class='line'>And shook its earthly socket, for we heard,</div> + <div class='line'>In rising and in falling with the tide,</div> + <div class='line'>Close by our ears, the huge roots strain and creak),</div> + <div class='line'>Eye feeding upon eye with deep intent;</div> + <div class='line'>And mine, with love too high to be express'd</div> + <div class='line'>Arrested in its sphere, and ceasing from</div> + <div class='line'>All contemplation of all forms, did pause</div> + <div class='line'>To worship mine own image, laved in light,</div> + <div class='line'>The centre of the splendours, all unworthy</div> + <div class='line'>Of such a shrine—mine image in her eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>By diminution made most glorious,</div><a name='Page_122'></a> + <div class='line'>Moved with their motions, as those eyes were moved</div> + <div class='line'>With motions of the soul, as my heart beat</div> + <div class='line'>Twice to the melody of hers. Her face</div> + <div class='line'>Was starry-fair, not pale, tenderly flush'd</div> + <div class='line'>As 'twere with dawn. She was dark-hair'd, dark-eyed;</div> + <div class='line'>Oh, such dark eyes! A single glance of them</div> + <div class='line'>Will govern a whole life from birth to death,</div> + <div class='line'>Careless of all things else, led on with light</div> + <div class='line'>In trances and in visions: look at them,</div> + <div class='line'>You lose yourself in utter ignorance,</div> + <div class='line'>You cannot find their depth; for they go back,</div> + <div class='line'>And farther back, and still withdraw themselves</div> + <div class='line'>Quite into the deep soul, that evermore,</div> + <div class='line'>Fresh springing from her fountains in the brain,</div> + <div class='line'>Still pouring thro', floods with redundant light</div> + <div class='line'>Her narrow portals.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line12'>Trust me, long ago</div> + <div class='line'>I should have died, if it were possible</div> + <div class='line'>To die in gazing on that perfectness</div> + <div class='line'>Which I do bear within me; I had died</div> + <div class='line'>But from my farthest lapse, my latest ebb,</div> + <div class='line'>Thine image, like a charm of light and strength</div> + <div class='line'>Upon the waters, pushed me back again</div> + <div class='line'>On these deserted sands of barren life.</div> + <div class='line'>Tho' from the deep vault, where the heart of hope</div> + <div class='line'>Fell into dust, and crumbled in the dark—</div><a name='Page_123'></a> + <div class='line'>Forgetting who to render beautiful</div> + <div class='line'>Her countenance with quick and healthful blood—</div> + <div class='line'>Thou didst not sway me upward, could I perish</div> + <div class='line'>With such a costly casket in the grasp</div> + <div class='line'>Of memory? He, that saith it, hath o'erstepp'd</div> + <div class='line'>The slippery footing of his narrow wit,</div> + <div class='line'>And fall'n away from judgment. Thou art light,</div> + <div class='line'>To which my spirit leaneth all her flowers,</div> + <div class='line'>And length of days, and immortality</div> + <div class='line'>Of thought, and freshness ever self-renew'd.</div> + <div class='line'>For Time and Grief abode too long with Life,</div> + <div class='line'>And like all other friends i' the world, at last</div> + <div class='line'>They grew aweary of her fellowship:</div> + <div class='line'>So Time and Grief did beckon unto Death,</div> + <div class='line'>And Death drew nigh and beat the doors of Life;</div> + <div class='line'>But thou didst sit alone in the inner house,</div> + <div class='line'>A wakeful port'ress and didst parle with Death,</div> + <div class='line'>'This is a charmed dwelling which I hold';</div> + <div class='line'>So Death gave back, and would no further come.</div> + <div class='line'>Yet is my life nor in the present time,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor in the present place. To me alone,</div> + <div class='line'>Pushed from his chair of regal heritage,</div> + <div class='line'>The Present is the vassal of the Past:</div> + <div class='line'>So that, in that I <i>have</i> lived, do I live,</div> + <div class='line'>And cannot die, and am, in having been,</div> + <div class='line'>A portion of the pleasant yesterday,</div> + <div class='line'>Thrust forward on to-day and out of place;</div> + <div class='line'>A body journeying onward, sick with toil,</div> + <div class='line'>The lithe limbs bow'd as with a heavy weight</div> + <div class='line'>And all the senses weaken'd in all save that</div><a name='Page_124'></a> + <div class='line'>Which, long ago, they had glean'd and garner'd up</div> + <div class='line'>Into the granaries of memory—</div> + <div class='line'>The clear brow, bulwark of the precious brain,</div> + <div class='line'>Now seam'd and chink'd with years—and all the while</div> + <div class='line'>The light soul twines and mingles with the growths</div> + <div class='line'>Of vigorous early days, attracted, won,</div> + <div class='line'>Married, made one with, molten into all</div> + <div class='line'>The beautiful in Past of act or place.</div> + <div class='line'>Even as the all-enduring camel, driven</div> + <div class='line'>Far from the diamond fountain by the palms,</div> + <div class='line'>Toils onward thro' the middle moonlight nights,</div> + <div class='line'>Shadow'd and crimson'd with the drifting dust,</div> + <div class='line'>Or when the white heats of the blinding noons</div> + <div class='line'>Beat from the concave sand; yet in him keeps</div> + <div class='line'>A draught of that sweet fountain that he loves,</div> + <div class='line'>To stay his feet from falling, and his spirit</div> + <div class='line'>From bitterness of death.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line12'>Ye ask me, friends,</div> + <div class='line'>When I began to love. How should I tell ye?</div> + <div class='line'>Or from the after fulness of my heart,</div> + <div class='line'>Flow back again unto my slender spring</div> + <div class='line'>And first of love, tho' every turn and depth</div> + <div class='line'>Between is clearer in my life than all</div> + <div class='line'>Its present flow. Ye know not what ye ask.</div> + <div class='line'>How should the broad and open flower tell</div> + <div class='line'>What sort of bud it was, when press'd together</div> + <div class='line'>In its green sheath, close lapt in silken folds?</div><a name='Page_125'></a> + <div class='line'>It seemed to keep its sweetness to itself,</div> + <div class='line'>Yet was not the less sweet for that it seem'd.</div> + <div class='line'>For young Life knows not when young Life was born,</div> + <div class='line'>But takes it all for granted: neither Love,</div> + <div class='line'>Warm in the heart, his cradle can remember</div> + <div class='line'>Love in the womb, but resteth satisfied,</div> + <div class='line'>Looking on her that brought him to the light:</div> + <div class='line'>Or as men know not when they fall asleep</div> + <div class='line'>Into delicious dreams, our other life,</div> + <div class='line'>So know I not when I began to love.</div> + <div class='line'>This is my sum of knowledge—that my love</div> + <div class='line'>Grew with myself—and say rather, was my growth,</div> + <div class='line'>My inward sap, the hold I have on earth,</div> + <div class='line'>My outward circling air wherein I breathe,</div> + <div class='line'>Which yet upholds my life, and evermore</div> + <div class='line'>Was to me daily life and daily death:</div> + <div class='line'>For how should I have lived and not have loved?</div> + <div class='line'>Can ye take off the sweetness from the flower,</div> + <div class='line'>The colour and the sweetness from the rose,</div> + <div class='line'>And place them by themselves? or set apart</div> + <div class='line'>Their motions and their brightness from the stars,</div> + <div class='line'>And then point out the flower or the star?</div> + <div class='line'>Or build a wall betwixt my life and love,</div> + <div class='line'>And tell me where I am? 'Tis even thus:</div> + <div class='line'>In that I live I love; because I love</div> + <div class='line'>I live: whate'er is fountain to the one</div> + <div class='line'>Is fountain to the other; and whene'er</div> + <div class='line'>Our God unknits the riddle of the one,</div><a name='Page_126'></a> + <div class='line'>There is no shade or fold of mystery</div> + <div class='line'>Swathing the other.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line12'>Many, many years,</div> + <div class='line'>For they seem many and my most of life,</div> + <div class='line'>And well I could have linger'd in that porch,</div> + <div class='line'>So unproportioned to the dwelling place,</div> + <div class='line'>In the maydews of childhood, opposite</div> + <div class='line'>The flush and dawn of youth, we lived together,</div> + <div class='line'>Apart, alone together on those hills.</div> + <div class='line'>Before he saw my day my father died,</div> + <div class='line'>And he was happy that he saw it not:</div> + <div class='line'>But I and the first daisy on his grave</div> + <div class='line'>From the same clay came into light at once.</div> + <div class='line'>As Love and I do number equal years</div> + <div class='line'>So she, my love, is of an age with me.</div> + <div class='line'>How like each other was the birth of each!</div> + <div class='line'>The sister of my mother—she that bore</div> + <div class='line'>Camilla close beneath her beating heart,</div> + <div class='line'>Which to the imprisoned spirit of the child,</div> + <div class='line'>With its true touched pulses in the flow</div> + <div class='line'>And hourly visitation of the blood,</div> + <div class='line'>Sent notes of preparation manifold,</div> + <div class='line'>And mellow'd echoes of the outer world—</div> + <div class='line'>My mother's sister, mother of my love,</div> + <div class='line'>Who had a twofold claim upon my heart,</div> + <div class='line'>One twofold mightier than the other was,</div> + <div class='line'>In giving so much beauty to the world,</div> + <div class='line'>And so much wealth as God had charged her with,</div> + <div class='line'>Loathing to put it from herself for ever,</div><a name='Page_127'></a> + <div class='line'>Crown'd with her highest act the placid face</div> + <div class='line'>And breathless body of her good deeds past.</div> + <div class='line'>So we were born, so orphan'd. She was motherless,</div> + <div class='line'>And I without a father. So from each</div> + <div class='line'>Of those two pillars which from earth uphold</div> + <div class='line'>Our childhood, one had fall'n away, and all</div> + <div class='line'>The careful burthen of our tender years</div> + <div class='line'>Trembled upon the other. He that gave</div> + <div class='line'>Her life, to me delightedly fulfill'd</div> + <div class='line'>All loving-kindnesses, all offices</div> + <div class='line'>Of watchful care and trembling tenderness.</div> + <div class='line'>He worked for both: he pray'd for both: he slept</div> + <div class='line'>Dreaming of both; nor was his love the less</div> + <div class='line'>Because it was divided, and shot forth</div> + <div class='line'>Boughs on each side, laden with wholesome shade,</div> + <div class='line'>Wherein we rested sleeping or awake,</div> + <div class='line'>And sung aloud the matin-song of life.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>She was my foster-sister: on one arm</div> + <div class='line'>The flaxen ringlets of our infancies</div> + <div class='line'>Wander'd, the while we rested: one soft lap</div> + <div class='line'>Pillow'd us both: one common light of eyes</div> + <div class='line'>Was on us as we lay: our baby lips,</div> + <div class='line'>Kissing one bosom, ever drew from thence</div> + <div class='line'>The stream of life, one stream, one life, one blood,</div> + <div class='line'>One sustenance, which, still as thought grew large,</div> + <div class='line'>Still larger moulding all the house of thought,</div> + <div class='line'>Perchance assimilated all our tastes</div> + <div class='line'>And future fancies. 'Tis a beautiful</div><a name='Page_128'></a> + <div class='line'>And pleasant meditation, what whate'er</div> + <div class='line'>Our general mother meant for me alone,</div> + <div class='line'>Our mutual mother dealt to both of us:</div> + <div class='line'>So what was earliest mine in earliest life,</div> + <div class='line'>I shared with her in whom myself remains.</div> + <div class='line'>As was our childhood, so our infancy,</div> + <div class='line'>They tell me, was a very miracle</div> + <div class='line'>Of fellow-feeling and communion.</div> + <div class='line'>They tell me that we would not be alone,—</div> + <div class='line'>We cried when we were parted; when I wept,</div> + <div class='line'>Her smile lit up the rainbow on my tears,</div> + <div class='line'>Stay'd on the clouds of sorrow; that we loved</div> + <div class='line'>The sound of one another's voices more</div> + <div class='line'>Than the grey cuckoo loves his name, and learn'd</div> + <div class='line'>To lisp in tune together; that we slept</div> + <div class='line'>In the same cradle always, face to face,</div> + <div class='line'>Heart beating time to heart, lip pressing lip,</div> + <div class='line'>Folding each other, breathing on each other,</div> + <div class='line'>Dreaming together (dreaming of each other</div> + <div class='line'>They should have added) till the morning light</div> + <div class='line'>Sloped thro' the pines, upon the dewy pane</div> + <div class='line'>Falling, unseal'd our eyelids, and we woke</div> + <div class='line'>To gaze upon each other. If this be true,</div> + <div class='line'>At thought of which my whole soul languishes</div> + <div class='line'>And faints, and hath no pulse, no breath, as tho'</div> + <div class='line'>A man in some still garden should infuse</div> + <div class='line'>Rich attar in the bosom of the rose,</div> + <div class='line'>Till, drunk with its own wine and overfull</div> + <div class='line'>Of sweetness, and in smelling of itself,</div> + <div class='line'>It fall on its own thorns—if this be true—</div><a name='Page_129'></a> + <div class='line'>And that way my wish leaneth evermore</div> + <div class='line'>Still to believe it—'tis so sweet a thought,</div> + <div class='line'>Why in the utter stillness of the soul</div> + <div class='line'>Doth question'd memory answer not, nor tell,</div> + <div class='line'>Of this our earliest, our closest drawn,</div> + <div class='line'>Most loveliest, most delicious union?</div> + <div class='line'>Oh, happy, happy outset of my days!</div> + <div class='line'>Green springtide, April promise, glad new year</div> + <div class='line'>Of Being, which with earliest violets,</div> + <div class='line'>And lavish carol of clear-throated larks,</div> + <div class='line'>Fill'd all the march of life.—I will not speak of thee;</div> + <div class='line'>These have not seen thee, these can never know thee,</div> + <div class='line'>They cannot understand me. Pass on then</div> + <div class='line'>A term of eighteen years. Ye would but laugh</div> + <div class='line'>If I should tell ye how I heard in thought</div> + <div class='line'>Those rhymes, 'The Lion and the Unicorn'</div> + <div class='line'>'The Four-and-twenty Blackbirds' 'Banbury Cross,'</div> + <div class='line'>'The Gander' and 'The man of Mitylene,'</div> + <div class='line'>And all the quaint old scraps of ancient crones,</div> + <div class='line'>Which are as gems set in my memory,</div> + <div class='line'>Because she learn'd them with me. Or what profits it</div> + <div class='line'>To tell ye that her father died, just ere</div> + <div class='line'>The daffodil was blown; or how we found</div> + <div class='line'>The drowned seaman on the shore? These things</div> + <div class='line'>Unto the quiet daylight of your minds</div> + <div class='line'>Are cloud and smoke, but in the dark of mine</div><a name='Page_130'></a> + <div class='line'>Show traced with flame. Move with me to that hour,</div> + <div class='line'>Which was the hinge on which the door of Hope,</div> + <div class='line'>Once turning, open'd far into the outward,</div> + <div class='line'>And never closed again.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line12'>I well remember,</div> + <div class='line'>It was a glorious morning, such a one</div> + <div class='line'>As dawns but once a season. Mercury</div> + <div class='line'>On such a morning would have flung himself</div> + <div class='line'>From cloud to cloud, and swum with balanced wings</div> + <div class='line'>To some tall mountain. On that day the year</div> + <div class='line'>First felt his youth and strength, and from his spring</div> + <div class='line'>Moved smiling toward his summer. On that day,</div> + <div class='line'>Love working shook his wings (that charged the winds</div> + <div class='line'>With spiced May-sweets from bound to bound) and blew</div> + <div class='line'>Fresh fire into the sun, and from within</div> + <div class='line'>Burst thro' the heated buds, and sent his soul</div> + <div class='line'>Into the songs of birds, and touch'd far-off</div> + <div class='line'>His mountain-altars, his high hills, with flame</div> + <div class='line'>Milder and purer. Up the rocks we wound;</div> + <div class='line'>The great pine shook with lovely sounds of joy,</div> + <div class='line'>That came on the sea-wind. As mountain brooks</div> + <div class='line'>Our blood ran free: the sunshine seem'd to brood</div> + <div class='line'>More warmly on the heart than on the brow.</div><a name='Page_131'></a> + <div class='line'>We often paused, and looking back, we saw</div> + <div class='line'>The clefts and openings in the hills all fill'd</div> + <div class='line'>With the blue valley and the glistening brooks,</div> + <div class='line'>And with the low dark groves—a land of Love;</div> + <div class='line'>Where Love was worshipp'd upon every height,</div> + <div class='line'>Where Love was worshipp'd under every tree—</div> + <div class='line'>A land of promise, flowing with the milk</div> + <div class='line'>And honey of delicious memories</div> + <div class='line'>Down to the sea, as far as eye could ken,</div> + <div class='line'>From verge to verge it was a holy land,</div> + <div class='line'>Still growing holier as you near'd the bay,</div> + <div class='line'>For where the temple stood. When we had reach'd</div> + <div class='line'>The grassy platform on some hill, I stoop'd,</div> + <div class='line'>I gather'd the wild herbs, and for her brows</div> + <div class='line'>And mine wove chaplets of the self-same flower,</div> + <div class='line'>Which she took smiling, and with my work there</div> + <div class='line'>Crown'd her clear forehead. Once or twice she told me</div> + <div class='line'>(For I remember all things), to let grow</div> + <div class='line'>The flowers that run poison in their veins.</div> + <div class='line'>She said, 'The evil flourish in the world';</div> + <div class='line'>Then playfully she gave herself the lie:</div> + <div class='line'>'Nothing in nature is unbeautiful,</div> + <div class='line'>So, brother, pluck and spare not.' So I wove</div> + <div class='line'>Even the dull-blooded poppy, 'whose red flower</div> + <div class='line'>Hued with the scarlet of a fierce sunrise,</div> + <div class='line'>Like to the wild youth of an evil king,</div> + <div class='line'>Is without sweetness, but who crowns himself</div> + <div class='line'>Above the secret poisons of his heart</div><a name='Page_132'></a> + <div class='line'>In his old age'—a graceful thought of hers</div> + <div class='line'>Graven on my fancy! As I said, with these</div> + <div class='line'>She crown'd her forehead. O how like a nymph,</div> + <div class='line'>A stately mountain-nymph, she look'd! how native</div> + <div class='line'>Unto the hills she trod on! What an angel!</div> + <div class='line'>How clothed with beams! My eyes, fix'd upon hers,</div> + <div class='line'>Almost forgot even to move again.</div> + <div class='line'>My spirit leap'd as with those thrills of bliss</div> + <div class='line'>That shoot across the soul in prayer, and show us</div> + <div class='line'>That we are surely heard. Methought a light</div> + <div class='line'>Burst from the garland I had woven, and stood</div> + <div class='line'>A solid glory on her bright black hair:</div> + <div class='line'>A light, methought, broke from her dark, dark eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>And shot itself into the singing winds;</div> + <div class='line'>A light, methought, flash'd even from her white robe,</div> + <div class='line'>As from a glass in the sun, and fell about</div> + <div class='line'>My footsteps on the mountains.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line12'>About sunset</div> + <div class='line'>We came unto the hill of woe, so call'd</div> + <div class='line'>Because the legend ran that, long time since,</div> + <div class='line'>One rainy night, when every wind blew loud,</div> + <div class='line'>A woful man had thrust his wife and child</div> + <div class='line'>With shouts from off the bridge, and following, plunged</div> + <div class='line'>Into the dizzy chasm below. Below,</div> + <div class='line'>Sheer thro' the black-wall'd cliff the rapid brook</div><a name='Page_133'></a> + <div class='line'>Shot down his inner thunders, built above</div> + <div class='line'>With matted bramble and the shining gloss</div> + <div class='line'>Of ivy-leaves, whose low-hung tresses, dipp'd</div> + <div class='line'>In the fierce stream, bore downward with the wave.</div> + <div class='line'>The path was steep and loosely strewn with crags</div> + <div class='line'>We mounted slowly: yet to both of us</div> + <div class='line'>It was delight, not hindrance: unto both</div> + <div class='line'>Delight from hardship to be overcome,</div> + <div class='line'>And scorn of perilous seeming: unto me</div> + <div class='line'>Intense delight and rapture that I breathed,</div> + <div class='line'>As with a sense of nigher Deity,</div> + <div class='line'>With her to whom all outward fairest things</div> + <div class='line'>Were by the busy mind referr'd, compared,</div> + <div class='line'>As bearing no essential fruits of excellence.</div> + <div class='line'>Save as they were the types and shadowings</div> + <div class='line'>Of hers—and then that I became to her</div> + <div class='line'>A tutelary angel as she rose,</div> + <div class='line'>And with a fearful self-impelling joy</div> + <div class='line'>Saw round her feet the country far away,</div> + <div class='line'>Beyond the nearest mountain's bosky brows,</div> + <div class='line'>Burst into open prospect—heath and hill,</div> + <div class='line'>And hollow lined and wooded to the lips—</div> + <div class='line'>And steep down walls of battlemented rock</div> + <div class='line'>Girded with broom or shiver'd into peaks—</div> + <div class='line'>And glory of broad waters interfused,</div> + <div class='line'>Whence rose as it were breath and steam of gold;</div> + <div class='line'>And over all the great wood rioting</div> + <div class='line'>And climbing, starr'd at slender intervals</div> + <div class='line'>With blossom tufts of purest white; and last,</div> + <div class='line'>Framing the mighty landskip to the West,</div><a name='Page_134'></a> + <div class='line'>A purple range of purple cones, between</div> + <div class='line'>Whose interspaces gush'd, in blinding bursts,</div> + <div class='line'>The incorporate light of sun and sea.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line12'>At length,</div> + <div class='line'>Upon the tremulous bridge, that from beneath</div> + <div class='line'>Seemed with a cobweb firmament to link</div> + <div class='line'>The earthquake-shattered chasm, hung with shrubs,</div> + <div class='line'>We passed with tears of rapture. All the West,</div> + <div class='line'>And even unto the middle South, was ribb'd</div> + <div class='line'>And barr'd with bloom on bloom. The sun beneath,</div> + <div class='line'>Held for a space 'twixt cloud and wave, shower'd down</div> + <div class='line'>Rays of a mighty circle, weaving over</div> + <div class='line'>That varied wilderness a tissue of light</div> + <div class='line'>Unparallel'd. On the other side the moon,</div> + <div class='line'>Half-melted into thin blue air, stood still</div> + <div class='line'>And pale and fibrous as a wither'd leaf,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor yet endured in presence of his eyes</div> + <div class='line'>To imbue his lustre; most unloverlike;</div> + <div class='line'>Since in his absence full of light and joy</div> + <div class='line'>And giving light to others. But this chiefest,</div> + <div class='line'>Next to her presence whom I loved so well,</div> + <div class='line'>Spoke loudly, even into my inmost heart,</div> + <div class='line'>As to my outward hearing: the loud stream,</div> + <div class='line'>Forth issuing from his portals in the crag</div> + <div class='line'>(A visible link unto the home of my heart),</div> + <div class='line'>Ran amber toward the West, and nigh the sea,</div> + <div class='line'>Parting my own loved mountains, was received</div><a name='Page_135'></a> + <div class='line'>Shorn of its strength, into the sympathy</div> + <div class='line'>Of that small bay, which into open main</div> + <div class='line'>Glow'd intermingling close beneath the sun</div> + <div class='line'>Spirit of Love! That little hour was bound,</div> + <div class='line'>Shut in from Time, and dedicate to thee;</div> + <div class='line'>Thy fires from heav'n had touch'd it, and the earth</div> + <div class='line'>They fell on became hallow'd evermore.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>We turn'd: our eyes met: her's were bright, and mine</div> + <div class='line'>Were dim with floating tears, that shot the sunset,</div> + <div class='line'>In light rings round me; and my name was borne</div> + <div class='line'>Upon her breath. Henceforth my name has been</div> + <div class='line'>A hallow'd memory, like the names of old;</div> + <div class='line'>A center'd, glory-circled memory,</div> + <div class='line'>And a peculiar treasure, brooking not</div> + <div class='line'>Exchange or currency; and in that hour</div> + <div class='line'>A hope flow'd round me, like a golden mist</div> + <div class='line'>Charm'd amid eddies of melodious airs,</div> + <div class='line'>A moment, ere the onward whirlwind shatter it,</div> + <div class='line'>Waver'd and floated—which was less than Hope,</div> + <div class='line'>Because it lack'd the power of perfect Hope;</div> + <div class='line'>But which was more and higher than all Hope,</div> + <div class='line'>Because all other Hope hath lower aim;</div> + <div class='line'>Even that this name to which her seraph lips</div> + <div class='line'>Did lend such gentle utterance, this one name</div> + <div class='line'>In some obscure hereafter, might inwreathe</div> + <div class='line'>(How lovelier, nobler then!) her life, her love,</div><a name='Page_136'></a> + <div class='line'>With my life, love, soul, spirit and heart and strength.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>'Brother,' she said, 'let this be call'd henceforth</div> + <div class='line'>The Hill of Hope'; and I replied: 'O sister,</div> + <div class='line'>My will is one with thine; the Hill of Hope.'</div> + <div class='line'>Nevertheless, we did not change the name.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Love lieth deep; Love dwells not in lip-depths:</div> + <div class='line'>Love wraps her wings on either side the heart,</div> + <div class='line'>Constraining it with kisses close and warm,</div> + <div class='line'>Absorbing all the incense of sweet thoughts</div> + <div class='line'>So that they pass not to the shrine of sound.</div> + <div class='line'>Else had the life of that delighted hour</div> + <div class='line'>Drunk in the largeness of the utterance</div> + <div class='line'>Of Love; but how should earthly measure mete</div> + <div class='line'>The heavenly unmeasured or unlimited Love,</div> + <div class='line'>Which scarce can tune his high majestic sense</div> + <div class='line'>Unto the thunder-song that wheels the spheres;</div> + <div class='line'>Scarce living in the Aeolian harmony,</div> + <div class='line'>And flowing odour of the spacious air;</div> + <div class='line'>Scarce housed in the circle of this earth:</div> + <div class='line'>Be cabin'd up in words and syllables,</div> + <div class='line'>Which waste with the breath that made 'em.</div> + <div class='line12'>Sooner earth</div> + <div class='line'>Might go round heaven, and the straight girth of Time</div> + <div class='line'>Inswathe the fullness of Eternity,</div> + <div class='line'>Than language grasp the infinite of Love.</div> + <div class='line'>O day, which did enwomb that happy hour,</div><a name='Page_137'></a> + <div class='line'>Thou art blest in the years, divinest day!</div> + <div class='line'>O Genius of that hour which dost uphold</div> + <div class='line'>Thy coronal of glory like a God,</div> + <div class='line'>Amid thy melancholy mates far-seen,</div> + <div class='line'>Who walk before thee, and whose eyes are dim</div> + <div class='line'>With gazing on the light and depth of thine</div> + <div class='line'>Thy name is ever worshipp'd among hours!</div> + <div class='line'>Had I died then, I had not seem'd to die</div> + <div class='line'>For bliss stood round me like the lights of heaven,</div> + <div class='line'>That cannot fade, they are so burning bright.</div> + <div class='line'>Had I died then, I had not known the death;</div> + <div class='line'>Planting my feet against this mound of time</div> + <div class='line'>I had thrown me on the vast, and from this impulse</div> + <div class='line'>Continuing and gathering ever, ever,</div> + <div class='line'>Agglomerated swiftness, I had lived</div> + <div class='line'>That intense moment thro' eternity.</div> + <div class='line'>Oh, had the Power from whose right hand the light</div> + <div class='line'>Of Life issueth, and from whose left hand floweth</div> + <div class='line'>The shadow of Death, perennial effluences,</div> + <div class='line'>Whereof to all that draw the wholesome air,</div> + <div class='line'>Somewhile the one must overflow the other;</div> + <div class='line'>Then had he stemm'd my day with night and driven</div> + <div class='line'>My current to the fountain whence it sprang—</div> + <div class='line'>Even his own abiding excellence—</div> + <div class='line'>On me, methinks, that shock of gloom had fall'n</div> + <div class='line'>Unfelt, and like the sun I gazed upon,</div> + <div class='line'>Which, lapt in seeming dissolution,</div><a name='Page_138'></a> + <div class='line'>And dipping his head low beneath the verge,</div> + <div class='line'>Yet bearing round about him his own day,</div> + <div class='line'>In confidence of unabated strength,</div> + <div class='line'>Steppeth from heaven to heaven, from light to light,</div> + <div class='line'>And holding his undimmed forehead far</div> + <div class='line'>Into a clearer zenith, pure of cloud;</div> + <div class='line'>So bearing on thro' Being limitless</div> + <div class='line'>The triumph of this foretaste, I had merged</div> + <div class='line'>Glory in glory, without sense of change.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>We trod the shadow of the downward hill;</div> + <div class='line'>We pass'd from light to dark. On the other side</div> + <div class='line'>Is scooped a cavern and a mountain-hall,</div> + <div class='line'>Which none have fathom'd. If you go far in</div> + <div class='line'>(The country people rumour) you may hear</div> + <div class='line'>The moaning of the woman and the child,</div> + <div class='line'>Shut in the secret chambers of the rock.</div> + <div class='line'>I too have heard a sound—perchance of streams</div> + <div class='line'>Running far-off within its inmost halls,</div> + <div class='line'>The home of darkness, but the cavern mouth,</div> + <div class='line'>Half overtrailed with a wanton weed</div> + <div class='line'>Gives birth to a brawling stream, that stepping lightly</div> + <div class='line'>Adown a natural stair of tangled roots,</div> + <div class='line'>Is presently received in a sweet grove</div> + <div class='line'>Of eglantine, a place of burial</div> + <div class='line'>Far lovelier than its cradle; for unseen</div> + <div class='line'>But taken with the sweetness of the place,</div> + <div class='line'>It giveth out a constant melody</div><a name='Page_139'></a> + <div class='line'>That drowns the nearer echoes. Lower down</div> + <div class='line'>Spreads out a little lake, that, flooding, makes</div> + <div class='line'>Cushions of yellow sand; and from the woods</div> + <div class='line'>That belt it rise three dark tall cypresses;</div> + <div class='line'>Three cypresses, symbols of mortal woe,</div> + <div class='line'>That men plant over graves.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line10'>Hither we came,</div> + <div class='line'>And sitting down upon the golden moss</div> + <div class='line'>Held converse sweet and low—low converse sweet,</div> + <div class='line'>In which our voices bore least part. The wind</div> + <div class='line'>Told a love-tale beside us, how he woo'd</div> + <div class='line'>The waters, and the crisp'd waters lisp'd</div> + <div class='line'>The kisses of the wind, that, sick with love,</div> + <div class='line'>Fainted at intervals, and grew again</div> + <div class='line'>To utterance of passion. Ye cannot shape</div> + <div class='line'>Fancy so fair as is this memory.</div> + <div class='line'>Methought all excellence that ever was</div> + <div class='line'>Had drawn herself from many thousand years,</div> + <div class='line'>And all the separate Edens of this earth,</div> + <div class='line'>To centre in this place and time. I listen'd,</div> + <div class='line'>And her words stole with most prevailing sweetness</div> + <div class='line'>Into my heart, as thronged fancies come,</div> + <div class='line'>All unawares, into the poet's brain;</div> + <div class='line'>Or as the dew-drops on the petal hung,</div> + <div class='line'>When summer winds break their soft sleep with sighs,</div> + <div class='line'>Creep down into the bottom of the flower.</div> + <div class='line'>Her words were like a coronal of wild blooms</div><a name='Page_140'></a> + <div class='line'>Strung in the very negligence of Art,</div> + <div class='line'>Or in the art of Nature, where each rose</div> + <div class='line'>Doth faint upon the bosom of the other,</div> + <div class='line'>Flooding its angry cheek with odorous tears.</div> + <div class='line'>So each with each inwoven lived with each,</div> + <div class='line'>And were in union more than double-sweet.</div> + <div class='line'>What marvel my Camilla told me all?</div> + <div class='line'>It was so happy an hour, so sweet a place,</div> + <div class='line'>And I was as the brother of her blood,</div> + <div class='line'>And by that name was wont to live in her speech,</div> + <div class='line'>Dear name! which had too much of nearness in it</div> + <div class='line'>And heralded the distance of this time.</div> + <div class='line'>At first her voice was very sweet and low,</div> + <div class='line'>As tho' she were afeard of utterance;</div> + <div class='line'>But in the onward current of her speech,</div> + <div class='line'>(As echoes of the hollow-banked brooks</div> + <div class='line'>Are fashioned by the channel which they keep)</div> + <div class='line'>His words did of their meaning borrow sound,</div> + <div class='line'>Her cheek did catch the colour of her words,</div> + <div class='line'>I heard and trembled, yet I could but hear;</div> + <div class='line'>My heart paused,—my raised eyelids would not fall,</div> + <div class='line'>But still I kept my eyes upon the sky.</div> + <div class='line'>I seem'd the only part of Time stood still,</div> + <div class='line'>And saw the motion of all other things;</div> + <div class='line'>While her words, syllable by syllable,</div> + <div class='line'>Like water, drop by drop, upon my ear</div> + <div class='line'>Fell, and I wish'd, yet wish'd her not to speak,</div> + <div class='line'>But she spoke on, for I did name no wish.</div><a name='Page_141'></a> + <div class='line'>What marvel my Camilla told me all</div> + <div class='line'>Her maiden dignities of Hope and Love,</div> + <div class='line'>'Perchance' she said 'return'd.' Even then the stars</div> + <div class='line'>Did tremble in their stations as I gazed;</div> + <div class='line'>But she spake on, for I did name no wish,</div> + <div class='line'>No wish—no hope. Hope was not wholly dead,</div> + <div class='line'>But breathing hard at the approach of Death,</div> + <div class='line'>Updrawn in expectation of her change—</div> + <div class='line'>Camilla, my Camilla, who was mine</div> + <div class='line'>No longer in the dearest use of mine—</div> + <div class='line'>The written secrets of her inmost soul</div> + <div class='line'>Lay like an open scroll before my view,</div> + <div class='line'>And my eyes read, they read aright, her heart</div> + <div class='line'>Was Lionel's: it seem'd as tho' a link</div> + <div class='line'>Of some light chain within my inmost frame</div> + <div class='line'>Was riven in twain: that life I heeded not</div> + <div class='line'>Flow'd from me, and the darkness of the grave,</div> + <div class='line'>The darkness of the grave and utter night,</div> + <div class='line'>Did swallow up my vision: at her feet,</div> + <div class='line'>Even the feet of her I loved, I fell,</div> + <div class='line'>Smit with exceeding sorrow unto death.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Then had the earth beneath me yawning given</div> + <div class='line'>Sign of convulsion; and tho' horrid rifts</div> + <div class='line'>Sent up the moaning of unhappy spirits</div> + <div class='line'>Imprison'd in her centre, with the heat</div> + <div class='line'>Of their infolding element; had the angels,</div> + <div class='line'>The watchers at heaven's gate, push'd them apart,</div> + <div class='line'>And from the golden threshold had down-roll'd</div><a name='Page_142'></a> + <div class='line'>Their heaviest thunder, I had lain as still,</div> + <div class='line'>And blind and motionless as then I lay!</div> + <div class='line'>White as quench'd ashes, cold as were the hopes</div> + <div class='line'>Of my lorn love! What happy air shall woo</div> + <div class='line'>The wither'd leaf fall'n in the woods, or blasted</div> + <div class='line'>Upon this bough? a lightning stroke had come</div> + <div class='line'>Even from that Heaven in whose light I bloom'd</div> + <div class='line'>And taken away the greenness of my life,</div> + <div class='line'>The blossom and the fragrance. Who was cursed</div> + <div class='line'>But I? who miserable but I? even Misery</div> + <div class='line'>Forgot herself in that extreme distress,</div> + <div class='line'>And with the overdoing of her part</div> + <div class='line'>Did fall away into oblivion.</div> + <div class='line'>The night in pity took away my day</div> + <div class='line'>Because my grief as yet was newly born,</div> + <div class='line'>Of too weak eyes to look upon the light,</div> + <div class='line'>And with the hasty notice of the ear,</div> + <div class='line'>Frail life was startled from the tender love</div> + <div class='line'>Of him she brooded over. Would I had lain</div> + <div class='line'>Until the pleached ivy tress had wound</div> + <div class='line'>Round my worn limbs, and the wild briar had driven</div> + <div class='line'>Its knotted thorns thro' my unpaining brows</div> + <div class='line'>Leaning its roses on my faded eyes.</div> + <div class='line'>The wind had blown above me, and the rain</div> + <div class='line'>Had fall'n upon me, and the gilded snake</div> + <div class='line'>Had nestled in this bosomthrone of love,</div> + <div class='line'>But I had been at rest for evermore.</div> + <div class='line'>Long time entrancement held me: all too soon,</div><a name='Page_143'></a> + <div class='line'>Life (like a wanton too-officious friend</div> + <div class='line'>Who will not hear denial, vain and rude</div> + <div class='line'>With proffer of unwished for services)</div> + <div class='line'>Entering all the avenues of sense,</div> + <div class='line'>Pass'd thro' into his citadel, the brain</div> + <div class='line'>With hated warmth of apprehensiveness:</div> + <div class='line'>And first the chillness of the mountain stream</div> + <div class='line'>Smote on my brow, and then I seem'd to hear</div> + <div class='line'>Its murmur, as the drowning seaman hears,</div> + <div class='line'>Who with his head below the surface dropt,</div> + <div class='line'>Listens the dreadful murmur indistinct</div> + <div class='line'>Of the confused seas, and knoweth not</div> + <div class='line'>Beyond the sound he lists: and then came in</div> + <div class='line'>O'erhead the white light of the weary moon,</div> + <div class='line'>Diffused and molten into flaky cloud.</div> + <div class='line'>Was my sight drunk, that it did shape to me</div> + <div class='line'>Him who should own that name? or had my fancy</div> + <div class='line'>So lethargised discernment in the sense,</div> + <div class='line'>That she did act the step-dame to mine eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>Warping their nature, till they minister'd</div> + <div class='line'>Unto her swift conceits? 'Twere better thus</div> + <div class='line'>If so be that the memory of that sound</div> + <div class='line'>With mighty evocation, had updrawn</div> + <div class='line'>The fashion and the phantasm of the form</div> + <div class='line'>It should attach to. There was no such thing.—</div> + <div class='line'>It was the man she loved, even Lionel,</div> + <div class='line'>The lover Lionel, the happy Lionel,</div> + <div class='line'>All joy; who drew the happy atmosphere</div> + <div class='line'>Of my unhappy sighs, fed with my tears,</div><a name='Page_144'></a> + <div class='line'>To him the honey dews of orient hope.</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! rather had some loathly ghastful brow,</div> + <div class='line'>Half-bursten from the shroud, in cere cloth bound,</div> + <div class='line'>The dead skin withering on the fretted bone,</div> + <div class='line'>The very spirit of Paleness made still paler</div> + <div class='line'>By the shuddering moonlight, fix'd his eyes on mine</div> + <div class='line'>Horrible with the anger and the heat</div> + <div class='line'>Of the remorseful soul alive within,</div> + <div class='line'>And damn'd unto his loathed tenement.</div> + <div class='line'>Methinks I could have sooner met that gaze!</div> + <div class='line'>Oh, how her choice did leap forth from his eyes!</div> + <div class='line'>Oh, how her love did clothe itself in smiles</div> + <div class='line'>About his lips! This was the very arch-mock</div> + <div class='line'>And insolence of uncontrolled Fate,</div> + <div class='line'>When the effect weigh'd seas upon my head</div> + <div class='line'>To twit me with the cause.</div> + <div class='line12'>Why how was this?</div> + <div class='line'>Could he not walk what paths he chose, nor breathe</div> + <div class='line'>What airs he pleased! Was not the wide world free,</div> + <div class='line'>With all her interchange of hill and plain</div> + <div class='line'>To him as well as me? I know not, faith:</div> + <div class='line'>But Misery, like a fretful, wayward child,</div> + <div class='line'>Refused to look his author in the face,</div> + <div class='line'>Must he come my way too? Was not the South,</div> + <div class='line'>The East, the West, all open, if he had fall'n</div> + <div class='line'>In love in twilight? Why should he come my way,</div> + <div class='line'>Robed in those robes of light I must not wear,</div><a name='Page_145'></a> + <div class='line'>With that great crown of beams about his brows?</div> + <div class='line'>Come like an angel to a damned soul?</div> + <div class='line'>To tell him of the bliss he had with God;</div> + <div class='line'>Come like a careless and a greedy heir,</div> + <div class='line'>That scarce can wait the reading of the will</div> + <div class='line'>Before he takes possession? Was mine a mood</div> + <div class='line'>To be invaded rudely, and not rather</div> + <div class='line'>A sacred, secret, unapproached woe</div> + <div class='line'>Unspeakable? I was shut up with grief;</div> + <div class='line'>She took the body of my past delight,</div> + <div class='line'>Narded, and swathed and balm'd it for herself,</div> + <div class='line'>And laid it in a new-hewn sepulchre,</div> + <div class='line'>Where man had never lain. I was led mute</div> + <div class='line'>Into her temple like a sacrifice;</div> + <div class='line'>I was the high-priest in her holiest place,</div> + <div class='line'>Not to be loudly broken in upon.</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! friend, thoughts deep and heavy as these well-nigh</div> + <div class='line'>O'erbore the limits of my brain; but he</div> + <div class='line'>Bent o'er me, and my neck his arm upstay'd</div> + <div class='line'>From earth. I thought it was an adder's fold,</div> + <div class='line'>And once I strove to disengage myself,</div> + <div class='line'>But fail'd, I was so feeble. She was there too:</div> + <div class='line'>She bent above me too: her cheek was pale,</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! very fair and pale: rare pity had stolen</div> + <div class='line'>The living bloom away, as tho' a red rose</div> + <div class='line'>Should change into a white one suddenly.</div> + <div class='line'>Her eyes, I saw, were full of tears in the morn,</div> + <div class='line'>And some few drops of that distressful rain</div> + <div class='line'>Being wafted on the wind, drove in my sight,</div><a name='Page_146'></a> + <div class='line'>And being there they did break forth afresh</div> + <div class='line'>In a new birth, immingled with my own,</div> + <div class='line'>And still bewept my grief. Keeping unchanged</div> + <div class='line'>The purport of their coinage. Her long ringlets,</div> + <div class='line'>Drooping and beaten with the plaining wind,</div> + <div class='line'>Did brush my forehead in their to-and-fro:</div> + <div class='line'>For in the sudden anguish of her heart</div> + <div class='line'>Loosed from their simple thrall they had flowed abroad,</div> + <div class='line'>And onward floating in a full, dark wave,</div> + <div class='line'>Parted on either side her argent neck,</div> + <div class='line'>Mantling her form half way. She, when I woke,</div> + <div class='line'>After my refluent health made tender quest</div> + <div class='line'>Unanswer'd, for I spoke not: for the sound</div> + <div class='line'>Of that dear voice so musically low,</div> + <div class='line'>And now first heard with any sense of pain,</div> + <div class='line'>As it had taken life away before,</div> + <div class='line'>Choked all the syllables that in my throat</div> + <div class='line'>Strove to uprise, laden with mournful thanks,</div> + <div class='line'>From my full heart: and ever since that hour,</div> + <div class='line'>My voice hath somewhat falter'd—and what wonder</div> + <div class='line'>That when hope died, part of her eloquence</div> + <div class='line'>Died with her? He, the blissful lover, too,</div> + <div class='line'>From his great hoard of happiness distill'd</div> + <div class='line'>Some drops of solace; like a vain rich man,</div> + <div class='line'>That, having always prosper'd in the world,</div> + <div class='line'>Folding his hands deals comfortable words</div> + <div class='line'>To hearts wounded for ever; yet, in truth,</div> + <div class='line'>Fair speech was his and delicate of phrase,</div><a name='Page_147'></a> + <div class='line'>Falling in whispers on the sense, address'd</div> + <div class='line'>More to the inward than the outward ear,</div> + <div class='line'>As rain of the midsummer midnight soft</div> + <div class='line'>Scarce-heard, recalling fragrance and the green</div> + <div class='line'>Of the dead spring—such as in other minds</div> + <div class='line'>Had film'd the margents of the recent wound.</div> + <div class='line'>And why was I to darken their pure love,</div> + <div class='line'>If, as I knew, they two did love each other,</div> + <div class='line'>Because my own was darken'd? Why was I</div> + <div class='line'>To stand within the level of their hopes,</div> + <div class='line'>Because my hope was widow'd, like the cur</div> + <div class='line'>In the child's adage? Did I love Camilla?</div> + <div class='line'>Ye know that I did love her: to this present</div> + <div class='line'>My full-orb'd love hath waned not. Did I love her,</div> + <div class='line'>And could I look upon her tearful eyes?</div> + <div class='line'>Tears wept for me; for me—weep at my grief?</div> + <div class='line'>What had <i>she</i> done to weep—let my heart</div> + <div class='line'>Break rather—whom the gentlest airs of heaven</div> + <div class='line'>Should kiss with an unwonted gentleness.</div> + <div class='line'>Her love did murder mine; what then? she deem'd</div> + <div class='line'>I wore a brother's mind: she call'd me brother:</div> + <div class='line'>She told me all her love: she shall not weep.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The brightness of a burning thought awhile</div> + <div class='line'>Battailing with the glooms of my dark will,</div> + <div class='line'>Moonlike emerged, lit up unto itself,</div> + <div class='line'>Upon the depths of an unfathom'd woe,</div> + <div class='line'>Reflex of action, starting up at once,</div><a name='Page_148'></a> + <div class='line'>As men do from a vague and horrid dream,</div> + <div class='line'>And throwing by all consciousness of self,</div> + <div class='line'>In eager haste I shook him by the hand;</div> + <div class='line'>Then flinging myself down upon my knees</div> + <div class='line'>Even where the grass was warm where I had lain,</div> + <div class='line'>I pray'd aloud to God that he would hold</div> + <div class='line'>The hand of blessing over Lionel,</div> + <div class='line'>And her whom he would make his wedded wife,</div> + <div class='line'>Camilla! May their days be golden days,</div> + <div class='line'>And their long life a dream of linked love,</div> + <div class='line'>From which may rude Death never startle them,</div> + <div class='line'>But grow upon them like a glorious vision</div> + <div class='line'>Of unconceived and awful happiness,</div> + <div class='line'>Solemn but splendid, full of shapes and sounds,</div> + <div class='line'>Swallowing its precedent in victory.</div> + <div class='line'>Let them so love that men and boys may say,</div> + <div class='line'>Lo! how they love each other! till their love</div> + <div class='line'>Shall ripen to a proverb unto all,</div> + <div class='line'>Known when their faces are forgot in the land.</div> + <div class='line'>And as for me, Camilla, as for me,</div> + <div class='line'>Think not thy tears will make my name grow green,—</div> + <div class='line'>The dew of tears is an unwholesome dew.</div> + <div class='line'>The course of Hope is dried,—the life o' the plant—</div> + <div class='line'>They will but sicken the sick plant more.</div> + <div class='line'>Deem then I love thee but as brothers do,</div> + <div class='line'>So shalt thou love me still as sisters do;</div> + <div class='line'>Or if thou dream'st aught farther, dream but how</div> + <div class='line'>I could have loved thee, had there been none else</div><a name='Page_149'></a> + <div class='line'>To love as lovers, loved again by thee.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Or this, or somewhat like to this, I spoke,</div> + <div class='line'>When I did see her weep so ruefully;</div> + <div class='line'>For sure my love should ne'er induce the front</div> + <div class='line'>And mask of Hate, whom woful ailments</div> + <div class='line'>Of unavailing tears and heart deep moans</div> + <div class='line'>Feed and envenom, as the milky blood</div> + <div class='line'>Of hateful herbs a subtle-fanged snake.</div> + <div class='line'>Shall Love pledge Hatred in her bitter draughts,</div> + <div class='line'>And batten on his poisons? Love forbid!</div> + <div class='line'>Love passeth not the threshold of cold Hate,</div> + <div class='line'>And Hate is strange beneath the roof of Love.</div> + <div class='line'>O Love, if thou be'st Love, dry up these tears</div> + <div class='line'>Shed for the love of Love; for tho' mine image,</div> + <div class='line'>The subject of thy power, be cold in her,</div> + <div class='line'>Yet, like cold snow, it melteth in the source</div> + <div class='line'>Of these sad tears, and feeds their downward flow.</div> + <div class='line'>So Love, arraign'd to judgment and to death,</div> + <div class='line'>Received unto himself a part of blame.</div> + <div class='line'>Being guiltless, as an innocent prisoner,</div> + <div class='line'>Who when the woful sentence hath been past,</div> + <div class='line'>And all the clearness of his fame hath gone</div> + <div class='line'>Beneath the shadow of the curse of men,</div> + <div class='line'>First falls asleep in swoon. Wherefrom awaked</div> + <div class='line'>And looking round upon his tearful friends,</div> + <div class='line'>Forthwith and in his agony conceives</div> + <div class='line'>A shameful sense as of a cleaving crime—</div> + <div class='line'>For whence without some guilt should such grief be?</div> + <div class='line'>So died that hour, and fell into the abysm</div><a name='Page_150'></a> + <div class='line'>Of forms outworn, but not to be outworn,</div> + <div class='line'>Who never hail'd another worth the Life</div> + <div class='line'>That made it sensible. So died that hour,</div> + <div class='line'>Like odour wrapt into the winged wind</div> + <div class='line'>Borne into alien lands and far away.</div> + <div class='line'>There be some hearts so airy-fashioned,</div> + <div class='line'>That in the death of love, if e'er they loved,</div> + <div class='line'>On that sharp ridge of utmost doom ride highly</div> + <div class='line'>Above the perilous seas of change and chance;</div> + <div class='line'>Nay, more, holds out the lights of cheerfulness;</div> + <div class='line'>As the tall ship, that many a dreary year</div> + <div class='line'>Knit to some dismal sandbank far at sea,</div> + <div class='line'>All through the lifelong hours of utter dark,</div> + <div class='line'>Showers slanting light upon the dolorous wave.</div> + <div class='line'>For me all other Hopes did sway from that</div> + <div class='line'>Which hung the frailest: falling, they fell too,</div> + <div class='line'>Crush'd link on link into the beaten earth,</div> + <div class='line'>And Love did walk with banish'd Hope no more,</div> + <div class='line'>It was ill-done to part ye, Sisters fair;</div> + <div class='line'>Love's arms were wreathed about the neck of Hope,</div> + <div class='line'>And Hope kiss'd Love, and Love drew in her breath</div> + <div class='line'>In that close kiss, and drank her whisper'd tales.</div> + <div class='line'>They said that Love would die when Hope was gone,</div> + <div class='line'>And Love mourned long, and sorrowed after Hope;</div> + <div class='line'>At last she sought out memory, and they trod</div> + <div class='line'>The same old paths where Love had walked with Hope,</div> + <div class='line'>And Memory fed the soul of Love with tears.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II<a name='Page_151'></a></div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>From that time forth I would not see her more,</div> + <div class='line'>But many weary moons I lived alone—</div> + <div class='line'>Alone, and in the heart of the great forest.</div> + <div class='line'>Sometimes upon the hills beside the sea</div> + <div class='line'>All day I watched the floating isles of shade,</div> + <div class='line'>And sometimes on the shore, upon the sands</div> + <div class='line'>Insensibly I drew her name, until</div> + <div class='line'>The meaning of the letters shot into</div> + <div class='line'>My brain: anon the wanton billow wash'd</div> + <div class='line'>Them over, till they faded like my love.</div> + <div class='line'>The hollow caverns heard me—the black brooks</div> + <div class='line'>Of the mid-forest heard me—the soft winds,</div> + <div class='line'>Laden with thistledown and seeds of flowers,</div> + <div class='line'>Paused in their course to hear me, for my voice</div> + <div class='line'>Was all of thee: the merry linnet knew me,</div> + <div class='line'>The squirrel knew me, and the dragon-fly</div> + <div class='line'>Shot by me like a flash of purple fire.</div> + <div class='line'>The rough briar tore my bleeding palms; the hemlock,</div> + <div class='line'>Brow high, did strike my forehead as I pas'd;</div> + <div class='line'>Yet trod I not the wild-flower in my path,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor bruised the wild-bird's egg.</div> + <div class='line12'>Was this the end?</div> + <div class='line'>Why grew we then together i' the same plot?</div> + <div class='line'>Why fed we the same fountain? drew the same sun?</div> + <div class='line'>Why were our mothers branches of one stem?</div> + <div class='line'>Why were we one in all things, save in that</div> + <div class='line'>Where to have been one had been the roof and crown</div><a name='Page_152'></a> + <div class='line'>Of all I hoped and fear'd? if that same nearness</div> + <div class='line'>Were father to this distance, and that <i>one</i></div> + <div class='line'>Vauntcourier this <i>double</i>? If affection</div> + <div class='line'>Living slew Love, and Sympathy hew'd out</div> + <div class='line'>The bosom-sepulchre of Sympathy.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Chiefly I sought the cavern and the hill</div> + <div class='line'>Where last we roam'd together, for the sound</div> + <div class='line'>Of the loud stream was pleasant, and the wind</div> + <div class='line'>Came wooingly with violet smells. Sometimes</div> + <div class='line'>All day I sat within the cavern-mouth,</div> + <div class='line'>Fixing my eyes on those three cypress-cones</div> + <div class='line'>Which spired above the wood; and with mad hand</div> + <div class='line'>Tearing the bright leaves of the ivy-screen,</div> + <div class='line'>I cast them in the noisy brook beneath,</div> + <div class='line'>And watch'd them till they vanished from my sight</div> + <div class='line'>Beneath the bower of wreathed eglantines:</div> + <div class='line'>And all the fragments of the living rock,</div> + <div class='line'>(Huge splinters, which the sap of earliest showers,</div> + <div class='line'>Or moisture of the vapour, left in clinging,</div> + <div class='line'>When the shrill storm-blast feeds it from behind,</div> + <div class='line'>And scatters it before, had shatter'd from</div> + <div class='line'>The mountain, till they fell, and with the shock</div> + <div class='line'>Half dug their own graves), in mine agony,</div> + <div class='line'>Did I make bear of all the deep rich moss</div> + <div class='line'>Wherewith the dashing runnel in the spring</div> + <div class='line'>Had liveried them all over. In my brain</div><a name='Page_153'></a> + <div class='line'>The spirit seem'd to flag from thought to thought,</div> + <div class='line'>Like moonlight wandering through a mist: my blood</div> + <div class='line'>Crept like the drains of a marsh thro' all my body;</div> + <div class='line'>The motions of my heart seem'd far within me,</div> + <div class='line'>Unfrequent, low, as tho' it told its pulses;</div> + <div class='line'>And yet it shook me, that my frame did shudder,</div> + <div class='line'>As it were drawn asunder by the rack.</div> + <div class='line'>But over the deep graves of Hope and Fear,</div> + <div class='line'>The wreck of ruin'd life and shatter'd thought,</div> + <div class='line'>Brooded one master-passion evermore,</div> + <div class='line'>Like to a low hung and a fiery sky</div> + <div class='line'>Above some great metropolis, earth shock'd</div> + <div class='line'>Hung round with ragged-rimmed burning folds,</div> + <div class='line'>Embathing all with wild and woful hues—</div> + <div class='line'>Great hills of ruins, and collapsed masses</div> + <div class='line'>Of thunder-shaken columns, indistinct</div> + <div class='line'>And fused together in the tyrannous light.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>So gazed I on the ruins of that thought</div> + <div class='line'>Which was the playmate of my youth—for which</div> + <div class='line'>I lived and breathed: the dew, the sun, the rain,</div> + <div class='line'>Unto the growth of body and of mind;</div> + <div class='line'>The blood, the breath, the feeling and the motion,</div> + <div class='line'>The slope into the current of my years,</div> + <div class='line'>Which drove them onward—made them sensible;</div> + <div class='line'>The precious jewel of my honour'd life,</div> + <div class='line'>Erewhile close couch'd in golden happiness,</div> + <div class='line'>Now proved counterfeit, was shaken out,</div> + <div class='line'>And, trampled on, left to its own decay.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Sometimes I thought Camilla was no more,</div><a name='Page_154'></a> + <div class='line'>Some one had told me she was dead, and ask'd me</div> + <div class='line'>If I would see her burial: then I seem'd</div> + <div class='line'>To rise, and thro' the forest-shadow borne</div> + <div class='line'>With more than mortal swiftness, I ran down</div> + <div class='line'>The sleepy sea-bank, till I came upon</div> + <div class='line'>The rear of a procession, curving round</div> + <div class='line'>The silver-sheeted bay: in front of which</div> + <div class='line'>Six stately virgins, all in white, upbare</div> + <div class='line'>A broad earth-sweeping pall of whitest lawn,</div> + <div class='line'>Wreathed round the bier with garlands: in the distance,</div> + <div class='line'>From out the yellow woods, upon the hill,</div> + <div class='line'>Look'd forth the summit and the pinnacles</div> + <div class='line'>Of a grey steeple. All the pageantry,</div> + <div class='line'>Save those six virgins which upheld the bier,</div> + <div class='line'>Were stoled from head to foot in flowing black;</div> + <div class='line'>One walk'd abreast with me, and veiled his brow,</div> + <div class='line'>And he was loud in weeping and in praise</div> + <div class='line'>Of the departed: a strong sympathy</div> + <div class='line'>Shook all my soul: I flung myself upon him</div> + <div class='line'>In tears and cries: I told him all my love,</div> + <div class='line'>How I had loved her from the first; whereat</div> + <div class='line'>He shrunk and howl'd, and from his brow drew back</div> + <div class='line'>His hand to push me from him; and the face</div> + <div class='line'>The very face and form of Lionel,</div> + <div class='line'>Flash'd through my eyes into my innermost brain,</div> + <div class='line'>And at his feet I seemed to faint and fall,</div> + <div class='line'>To fall and die away. I could not rise,</div> + <div class='line'>Albeit I strove to follow. They pass'd on,</div><a name='Page_155'></a> + <div class='line'>The lordly Phantasms; in their floating folds</div> + <div class='line'>They pass'd and were no more: but I had fall'n</div> + <div class='line'>Prone by the dashing runnel on the grass.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Always th' inaudible, invisible thought</div> + <div class='line'>Artificer and subject, lord and slave</div> + <div class='line'>Shaped by the audible and visible,</div> + <div class='line'>Moulded the audible and visible;</div> + <div class='line'>All crisped sounds of wave, and leaf and wind,</div> + <div class='line'>Flatter'd the fancy of my fading brain;</div> + <div class='line'>The storm-pavilion'd element, the wood,</div> + <div class='line'>The mountain, the three cypresses, the cave,</div> + <div class='line'>Were wrought into the tissue of my dream.</div> + <div class='line'>The moanings in the forest, the loud stream,</div> + <div class='line'>Awoke me not, but were a part of sleep;</div> + <div class='line'>And voices in the distance, calling to me,</div> + <div class='line'>And in my vision bidding me dream on,</div> + <div class='line'>Like sounds within the twilight realms of dreams,</div> + <div class='line'>Which wander round the bases of the hills,</div> + <div class='line'>And murmur in the low-dropt eaves of sleep,</div> + <div class='line'>But faint within the portals. Oftentimes</div> + <div class='line'>The vision had fair prelude, in the end</div> + <div class='line'>Opening on darkness, stately vestibules</div> + <div class='line'>To cares and shows of Death; whether the mind,</div> + <div class='line'>With a revenge even to itself unknown,</div> + <div class='line'>Made strange division of its suffering</div> + <div class='line'>With her, whom to have suffering view'd had been</div> + <div class='line'>Extremest pain; or that the clear-eyed Spirit,</div> + <div class='line'>Being blasted in the Present, grew at length</div><a name='Page_156'></a> + <div class='line'>Prophetical and prescient of whate'er</div> + <div class='line'>The Future had in store; or that which most</div> + <div class='line'>Enchains belief, the sorrow of my spirit</div> + <div class='line'>Was of so wide a compass it took in</div> + <div class='line'>All I had loved, and my dull agony.</div> + <div class='line'>Ideally to her transferred, became</div> + <div class='line'>Anguish intolerable.</div> + <div class='line8'>The day waned;</div> + <div class='line'>Alone I sat with her: about my brow</div> + <div class='line'>Her warm breath floated in the utterance</div> + <div class='line'>Of silver-chorded tones: her lips were sunder'd</div> + <div class='line'>With smiles of tranquil bliss, which broke in light</div> + <div class='line'>Like morning from her eyes—her eloquent eyes</div> + <div class='line'>(As I have seen them many hundred times),</div> + <div class='line'>Fill'd all with clear pure fire, thro' mine down rain'd</div> + <div class='line'>Their spirit-searching splendours. As a vision</div> + <div class='line'>Unto a haggard prisoner, iron-stay'd</div> + <div class='line'>In damp and dismal dungeons underground</div> + <div class='line'>Confined on points of faith, when strength is shock'd</div> + <div class='line'>With torment, and expectancy of worse</div> + <div class='line'>Upon the morrow, thro' the ragged walls,</div> + <div class='line'>All unawares before his half-shut eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>Comes in upon him in the dead of night,</div> + <div class='line'>And with th' excess of sweetness and of awe,</div> + <div class='line'>Makes the heart tremble, and the eyes run over</div> + <div class='line'>Upon his steely gyves; so those fair eyes</div> + <div class='line'>Shone on my darkness forms which ever stood</div> + <div class='line'>Within the magic cirque of memory,</div><a name='Page_157'></a> + <div class='line'>Invisible but deathless, waiting still</div> + <div class='line'>The edict of the will to reassume</div> + <div class='line'>The semblance of those rare realities</div> + <div class='line'>Of which they were the mirrors. Now the light,</div> + <div class='line'>Which was their life, burst through the cloud of thought</div> + <div class='line'>Keen, irrepressible.</div> + <div class='line12'>It was a room</div> + <div class='line'>Within the summer-house of which I spoke,</div> + <div class='line'>Hung round with paintings of the sea, and one</div> + <div class='line'>A vessel in mid-ocean, her heaved prow</div> + <div class='line'>Clambering, the mast bent, and the revin wind</div> + <div class='line'>In her sail roaring. From the outer day,</div> + <div class='line'>Betwixt the closest ivies came a broad</div> + <div class='line'>And solid beam of isolated light,</div> + <div class='line'>Crowded with driving atomies, and fell</div> + <div class='line'>Slanting upon that picture, from prime youth</div> + <div class='line'>Well-known, well-loved. She drew it long ago</div> + <div class='line'>Forth gazing on the waste and open sea,</div> + <div class='line'>One morning when the upblown billow ran</div> + <div class='line'>Shoreward beneath red clouds, and I had pour'd</div> + <div class='line'>Into the shadowing pencil's naked forms</div> + <div class='line'>Colour and life: it was a bond and seal</div> + <div class='line'>Of friendship, spoken of with tearful smiles;</div> + <div class='line'>A monument of childhood and of love,</div> + <div class='line'>The poesy of childhood; my lost love</div> + <div class='line'>Symbol'd in storm. We gazed on it together</div> + <div class='line'>In mute and glad remembrance, and each heart</div> + <div class='line'>Grew closer to the other, and the eye</div> + <div class='line'>Was riveted and charm-bound, gazing like</div><a name='Page_158'></a> + <div class='line'>The Indian on a still-eyed snake, low crouch'd</div> + <div class='line'>A beauty which is death, when all at once</div> + <div class='line'>That painted vessel, as with inner life,</div> + <div class='line'>'Gan rock and heave upon that painted sea;</div> + <div class='line'>An earthquake, my loud heartbeats, made the ground</div> + <div class='line'>Roll under us, and all at once soul, life,</div> + <div class='line'>And breath, and motion, pass'd and flow'd away</div> + <div class='line'>To those unreal billows: round and round</div> + <div class='line'>A whirlwind caught and bore us; mighty gyves,</div> + <div class='line'>Rapid and vast, of hissing spray wind-driven</div> + <div class='line'>Far through the dizzy dark. Aloud she shriek'd—</div> + <div class='line'>My heart was cloven with pain. I wound my arms</div> + <div class='line'>About her: we whirl'd giddily: the wind</div> + <div class='line'>Sung: but I clasp'd her without fear: her weight</div> + <div class='line'>Shrank in my grasp, and over my dim eyes</div> + <div class='line'>And parted lips which drank her breath, down hung</div> + <div class='line'>The jaws of Death: I, screaming, from me flung</div> + <div class='line'>The empty phantom: all the sway and whirl</div> + <div class='line'>Of the storm dropt to windless calm, and I</div> + <div class='line'>Down welter'd thro' the dark ever and ever.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<p> </p><hr /><p> </p> + +<h2><a name='Page_159'></a>Index to First Lines</h2> +<ul> + <li><a href='#Page_92'>A gate and a field half ploughed</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_55'>All thoughts, all creeds, all dreams, are true</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_33'>Angels have talked with him and showed him thrones</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_85'>As when a man, that sails in a balloon</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_80'>Blow ye the trumpets, gather from afar</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_90'>But she tarries in her place</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_65'>Check every outflash, every ruder sally</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_44'>Could I outwear my present state of woe</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_37'>Ere yet my heart was sweet Love's tomb</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_29'>Every day hath its night</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_102'>First drink a health, this solemn night</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_110'>God bless our Prince and Bride</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_41'>Heaven weeps above the earth all night</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_119'>Here far away, seen from the topmost cliff</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_25'>His eyes in eclipse</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_114'>Home they brought him slain with spears</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_105'>How much I love this writer's manly style</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_97'>How often, when a child I lay reclined</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_23'>I am any man's suitor</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_115'>I stood on a tower in the wet</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_11'>I stood upon the Mountain which o'erlooks</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_28'>I' the glooming light</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_66'>Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_77'>My Rosalind, my Rosalind</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_81'>O darling room, my heart's delight</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_71'>Oh, Beauty, passing beauty! sweetest sweet!</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_31'>Oh, go not yet, my love</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_42'>O maiden fresher than the first green leaf</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_64'>O sad <i>No more</i>! O sweet <i>No more</i></a><a name='Page_160'></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_43'>O thou whose fringèd lids I gaze upon</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_99'>Rise, Britons, rise, if manhood be not dead</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_27'>Sainted Juliet! dearest name</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_46'>Shall the hag Evil die with the child of Good</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_93'>Sure never yet was Antelope</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_56'>The lintwhite and the throstlecock</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_72'>The Northwind fall'n in the new starréd night</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_47'>The pallid thunderstricken sigh for gain</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_67'>There are three things that fill my heart with sighs</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_89'>Therefore your halls, your ancient colleges</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_52'>There is no land like England</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_38'>The varied earth, the moving heaven</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_48'>Thou, from the first, unborn, undying love</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_45'>Though Night hath climbed her peak</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_54'>Two bees within a chrystal flowerbell rockèd</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_35'>Voice of the summerwind</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_83'>We have had enough of motion</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_94'>We know him, out of Shakespeare's art</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_98'>What time I wasted youthful hours</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_61'>Where is the Giant of the Sun, which stood</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_79'>Who can say</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_50'>Who fears to die? Who fears to die</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_63'>With roses musky breathed</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_40'>You cast to ground the hope which once was mine</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_82'>You did late review my lays</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_111'>Your ringlets, your ringlets</a></li> +</ul> + + +<hr /> +<h4>Footnotes<a name='Page_161'></a></h4> + +<div class='note'><a name='Footnote_A_1'></a><a href='#FNanchor_A_1'>[A]</a> Mr Swinburne failed to find this couplet in any of +Chapman's original poems or translations, and was of opinion that it +is Tennyson's own.</div> + +<div class='note'><a name='Footnote_B_2'></a><a href='#FNanchor_B_2'>[B]</a> Be ye perfect even as your Father in Heaven is perfect.</div> + +<div class='note'><a name='Footnote_C_3'></a><a href='#FNanchor_C_3'>[C]</a> His crispè hair in ringis was yronne.—Chaucer, <i>Knight's +Tale</i>. (Tennyson's note.)</div> + +<div class='note'><a name='Footnote_D_4'></a><a href='#FNanchor_D_4'>[D]</a> 'As soon as this poem was published, I altered the second +line to "All books and pictures ranged aright"; yet "Dear room, the +apple of my sight" (which was much abused) is not as bad as "Do go, +dear rain, do go away."' [Note initialed 'A.T.' in <i>Life</i>, vol. I, p. +89.] The worthlessness of much of the criticism lavished on Tennyson +by his coterie of adulating friends may be judged from the fact that +Arthur Hallam wrote to Tennyson that this poem was 'mighty +pleasant.'</div> + +<hr /> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14094 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + + + + + diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9576ff3 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #14094 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14094) diff --git a/old/14094-8.txt b/old/14094-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9513340 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/14094-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4181 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Suppressed Poems of Alfred Lord Tennyson +by Alfred Lord Tennyson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Suppressed Poems of Alfred Lord Tennyson + +Author: Alfred Lord Tennyson + +Release Date: November 19, 2004 [EBook #14094] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS TENNYSON *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Cori Samuel and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + + + + +THE SUPPRESSED POEMS + +OF + +ALFRED LORD TENNYSON + +1830-1868 + + +Edited By J.C. Thomson + + + + +Contents + + +EDITOR'S NOTE + + +TIMBUCTOO + + +POEMS CHIEFLY LYRICAL + + i. The How and the Why + ii. The Burial of Love + iii. To ---- + iv. Song _'I' the gloaming light'_ + v. Song _'Every day hath its night'_ + vi. Hero to Leander + vii. The Mystic + viii. The Grasshopper + ix. Love, Pride and Forgetfulness + x. Chorus _'The varied earth, the moving heaven'_ + xi. Lost Hope + xii. The Tears of Heaven + xiii. Love and Sorrow + xiv. To a Lady sleeping + xv. Sonnet _'Could I outwear my present state of woe'_ + xvi. Sonnet _'Though night hath climbed'_ + xvii. Sonnet _'Shall the hag Evil die'_ +xviii. Sonnet _'The pallid thunder stricken sigh for gain'_ + xix. Love + xx. English War Song + xxi. National Song + xxii. Dualisms +xxiii. [Greek: ohi rheontes] + xxiv. Song _'The lintwhite and the throstlecock'_ + + +CONTRIBUTIONS TO PERIODICALS, 1831-32 + + xxv. A Fragment + xxvi. Anacreontics + xxvii. _'O sad no more! O sweet no more'_ +xxviii. Sonnet _'Check every outflash, every ruder sally'_ + xxix. Sonnet _'Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh'_ + xxx. Sonnet _'There are three things that fill my heart with sighs'_ + + +POEMS, 1833 + + xxxi. Sonnet _'Oh beauty, passing beauty'_ + xxxii. The Hesperides + xxxiii. Rosalind + xxxiv. Song _'Who can say'_ + xxxv. Sonnet _'Blow ye the trumpet, gather from afar'_ + xxxvi. O Darling Room + xxxvii. To Christopher North +xxxviii. The Lotos-Eaters + xxxix. A Dream of Fair Women + + +MISCELLANEOUS POEMS AND CONTRIBUTIONS TO PERIODICALS, 1833-68 + + xl. Cambridge + xli. The Germ of 'Maud' + xlii. _'A gate and afield half ploughed'_ + xliii. The Skipping-Rope + xliv. The New Timon and the Poets + xlv. Mablethorpe + xlvi. _'What time I wasted youthful hours'_ + xlvii. Britons, guard your own +xlviii. Hands all round + xlix. Suggested by reading an article in a newspaper + l. _'God bless our Prince and Bride'_ + li. The Ringlet + lii. Song _'Home they brought him slain with spears'_ + liii. 1865-1866 + + +THE LOVER'S TALE, 1833. + + +INDEX OF FIRST LINES + + + + +_Note_ + +_To those unacquainted with Tennyson's conscientious methods, it may +seem strange that a volume of 160 pages is necessary to contain those +poems written and published by him during his active literary career, +and ultimately rejected as unsatisfactory. Of this considerable body +of verse, a great part was written, not in youth or old age, but while +Tennyson's powers were at their greatest. Whatever reasons may once +have existed for suppressing the poems that follow, the student of +English literature is entitled to demand that the whole body of +Tennyson's work should now be open, without restriction or impediment, +to the critical study to which the works of his compeers are +subjected._ + +_The bibliographical notes prefixed to the various poems give, in every +case, the date and medium of first publication._ + +_J.C.T._ + + + + +=Timbuctoo= + +A Poem Which Obtained The Chancellor's Medal At The +_Cambridge Commencement_ MDCCCXXIX + +By +A. Tennyson +Of Trinity College + +[Printed in Cambridge _Chronicle and Journal_ of Friday, July 10, +1829, and at the University Press by James Smith, among the +_Prolusiones Academicæ Præmiis annuis dignatæ et in Curia +Cantabrigiensi Recitatæ Comitiis Maximis_, MDCCCXXIX. Republished in +_Cambridge Prize Poems_, 1813 to 1858, by Messrs. Macmillan in 1859, +without alteration; and in 1893 in the appendix to a reprint of _Poems +by Two Brothers_]. + + +=Timbuctoo= + + Deep in that lion-haunted inland lies + A mystic city, goal of high Emprize.[A] + --CHAPMAN. + + I stood upon the Mountain which o'erlooks + The narrow seas, whose rapid interval + Parts Afric from green Europe, when the Sun + Had fall'n below th' Atlantick, and above + The silent Heavens were blench'd with faery light, + Uncertain whether faery light or cloud, + Flowing Southward, and the chasms of deep, deep blue + Slumber'd unfathomable, and the stars + Were flooded over with clear glory and pale. + I gaz'd upon the sheeny coast beyond, + There where the Giant of old Time infixed + The limits of his prowess, pillars high + Long time eras'd from Earth: even as the sea + When weary of wild inroad buildeth up + Huge mounds whereby to stay his yeasty waves. + And much I mus'd on legends quaint and old + Which whilome won the hearts of all on Earth + Toward their brightness, ev'n as flame draws air; + But had their being in the heart of Man + As air is th' life of flame: and thou wert then + A center'd glory-circled Memory, + Divinest Atalantis, whom the waves + Have buried deep, and thou of later name + Imperial Eldorado root'd with gold: + Shadows to which, despite all shocks of Change, + All on-set of capricious Accident, + Men clung with yearning Hope which would not die. + As when in some great City where the walls + Shake, and the streets with ghastly faces throng'd + Do utter forth a subterranean voice, + Among the inner columns far retir'd + At midnight, in the lone Acropolis. + Before the awful Genius of the place + Kneels the pale Priestess in deep faith, the while + Above her head the weak lamp dips and winks + Unto the fearful summoning without: + Nathless she ever clasps the marble knees, + Bathes the cold hand with tears, and gazeth on + Those eyes which wear no light but that wherewith + Her phantasy informs them. + + Where are ye + Thrones of the Western wave, fair Islands green? + Where are your moonlight halls, your cedarn glooms, + The blossoming abysses of your hills? + Your flowering Capes and your gold-sanded bays + Blown round with happy airs of odorous winds? + Where are the infinite ways which, Seraphtrod, + Wound thro' your great Elysian solitudes, + Whose lowest depths were, as with visible love, + Fill'd with Divine effulgence, circumfus'd, + Flowing between the clear and polish'd stems, + And ever circling round their emerald cones + In coronals and glories, such as gird + The unfading foreheads of the Saints in Heaven? + For nothing visible, they say, had birth + In that blest ground but it was play'd about + With its peculiar glory. Then I rais'd + My voice and cried 'Wide Afric, doth thy Sun + Lighten, thy hills enfold a City as fair + As those which starr'd the night o' the Elder World? + Or is the rumour of thy Timbuctoo + A dream as frail as those of ancient Time?' + + A curve of whitening, flashing, ebbing light! + A rustling of white wings! The bright descent + Of a young Seraph! and he stood beside me + There on the ridge, and look'd into my face + With his unutterable, shining orbs, + So that with hasty motion I did veil + My vision with both hands, and saw before me + Such colour'd spots as dance athwart the eyes + Of those that gaze upon the noonday Sun. + Girt with a Zone of flashing gold beneath + His breast, and compass'd round about his brow + With triple arch of everchanging bows, + And circled with the glory of living light + And alternations of all hues, he stood. + 'O child of man, why muse you here alone + Upon the Mountain, on the dreams of old + Which fill'd the Earth with passing loveliness, + Which flung strange music on the howling winds, + And odours rapt from remote Paradise? + Thy sense is clogg'd with dull mortality, + Thy spirit fetter'd with the bond of clay: + Open thine eye and see.' + + I look'd, but not + Upon his face, for it was wonderful + With its exceeding brightness, and the light + Of the great angel mind which look'd from out + The starry glowing of his restless eyes. + I felt my soul grow mighty, and my spirit + With supernatural excitation bound + Within me, and my mental eye grew large + With such a vast circumference of thought, + That in my vanity I seem'd to stand + Upon the outward verge and bound alone + Of full beatitude. Each failing sense + As with a momentary flash of light + Grew thrillingly distinct and keen. I saw + The smallest grain that dappled the dark Earth, + The indistinctest atom in deep air, + The Moon's white cities, and the opal width + Of her small glowing lakes, her silver heights + Unvisited with dew of vagrant cloud, + And the unsounded, undescended depth + Of her black hollows. The clear Galaxy + Shorn of its hoary lustre, wonderful, + Distinct and vivid with sharp points of light + Blaze within blaze, an unimagin'd depth + And harmony of planet-girded Suns + And moon-encircled planets, wheel in wheel, + Arch'd the wan Sapphire. Nay, the hum of men, + Or other things talking in unknown tongues, + And notes of busy life in distant worlds + Beat like a far wave on my anxious ear. + + A maze of piercing, trackless, thrilling thoughts + Involving and embracing each with each + Rapid as fire, inextricably link'd, + Expanding momently with every sight + And sound which struck the palpitating sense, + The issue of strong impulse, hurried through + The riv'n rapt brain: as when in some large lake + From pressure of descendant crags, which lapse + Disjointed, crumbling from their parent slope + At slender interval, the level calm + Is ridg'd with restless and increasing spheres + Which break upon each other, each th' effect + Of separate impulse, but more fleet and strong + Than its precursor, till the eyes in vain + Amid the wild unrest of swimming shade + Dappled with hollow and alternate rise + Of interpenetrated arc, would scan + Definite round. + I know not if I shape + These things with accurate similitude + From visible objects, for but dimly now, + Less vivid than a half-forgotten dream, + The memory of that mental excellence + Comes o'er me, and it may be I entwine + The indecision of my present mind + With its past clearness, yet it seems to me + As even then the torrent of quick thought + Absorbed me from the nature of itself + With its own fleetness. Where is he that, borne + Adown the sloping of an arrowy stream, + Could link his shallop to the fleeting edge, + And muse midway with philosophic calm + Upon the wondrous laws which regulate + The fierceness of the bounding element? + My thoughts which long had grovell'd in the slime + Of this dull world, like dusky worms which house + Beneath unshaken waters, but at once + Upon some earth-awakening day of spring + Do pass from gloom to glory, and aloft + Winnow the purple, bearing on both sides + Double display of starlit wings which burn + Fanlike and fibred, with intensest bloom: + E'en so my thoughts, erewhile so low, now felt + Unutterable buoyancy and strength + To bear them upward through the trackless fields + Of undefin'd existence far and free. + + Then first within the South methought I saw + A wilderness of spires, and chrystal pile + Of rampart upon rampart, dome on dome, + Illimitable range of battlement + On battlement, and the Imperial height + Of Canopy o'ercanopied. + Behind, + In diamond light, upsprung the dazzling Cones + Of Pyramids, as far surpassing Earth's + As Heaven than Earth is fairer. Each aloft + Upon his renown'd Eminence bore globes + Of wheeling suns, or stars, or semblances + Of either, showering circular abyss + Of radiance. But the glory of the place + Stood out a pillar'd front of burnish'd gold + Interminably high, if gold it were + Or metal more ethereal, and beneath + Two doors of blinding brilliance, where no gaze + Might rest, stood open, and the eye could scan + Through length of porch and lake and boundless + hall, + Part of a throne of fiery flame, wherefrom + The snowy skirting of a garment hung, + And glimpse of multitudes of multitudes + That minister'd around it--if I saw + These things distinctly, for my human brain + Stagger'd beneath the vision, and thick night + Came down upon my eyelids, and I fell. + + With ministering hand he rais'd me up; + Then with a mournful and ineffable smile, + Which but to look on for a moment fill'd + My eyes with irresistible sweet tears, + In accents of majestic melody, + Like a swol'n river's gushings in still night + Mingled with floating music, thus he spake: + 'There is no mightier Spirit than I to sway + The heart of man: and teach him to attain + By shadowing forth the Unattainable; + And step by step to scale that mighty stair + Whose landing-place is wrapt about with clouds + Of glory of Heaven.[B] With earliest Light of Spring, + And in the glow of sallow Summertide, + And in red Autumn when the winds are wild + With gambols, and when full-voiced Winter roofs + The headland with inviolate white snow, + I play about his heart a thousand ways, + Visit his eyes with visions, and his ears + With harmonies of wind and wave and wood + --Of winds which tell of waters, and of waters + Betraying the close kisses of the wind-- + And win him unto me: and few there be + So gross of heart who have not felt and known + A higher than they see: They with dim eyes + Behold me darkling. Lo! I have given _thee_ + To understand my presence, and to feel + My fullness; I have fill'd thy lips with power. + I have rais'd thee higher to the Spheres of Heaven, + Man's first, last home: and thou with ravish'd sense + Listenest the lordly music flowing from + Th' illimitable years. I am the Spirit, + The permeating life which courseth through + All th' intricate and labyrinthine veins + Of the great vine of _Fable_, which, outspread + With growth of shadowing leaf and clusters rare, + Reacheth to every corner under Heaven, + Deep-rooted in the living soil of truth: + So that men's hopes and fears take refuge in + The fragrance of its complicated glooms + And cool impleachèd twilights. Child of Man, + See'st thou yon river, whose translucent wave, + Forth issuing from darkness, windeth through + The argent streets o' the City, imaging + The soft inversion of her tremulous Domes; + Her gardens frequent with the stately Palm, + Her Pagods hung with music of sweet bells: + Her obelisks of rangèd Chrysolite, + Minarets and towers? Lo! how he passeth by, + And gulphs himself in sands, as not enduring + To carry through the world those waves, which bore + The reflex of my City in their depths. + Oh City! Oh latest Throne! where I was rais'd + To be a mystery of loveliness + Unto all eyes, the time is well nigh come + When I must render up this glorious home + To keen _Discovery_: soon yon brilliant towers + Shall darken with the waving of her wand; + Darken, and shrink and shiver into huts, + Black specks amid a waste of dreary sand, + Low-built, mud-walled, Barbarian settlement, + How chang'd from this fair City!' + Thus far the Spirit: + Then parted Heavenward on the wing: and I + Was left alone on Calpe, and the Moon + Had fallen from the night, and all was dark! + + +[The following review of 'Timbuctoo' was published in the _Athenæum_ +of 22nd July, 1829: 'We have accustomed ourselves to think, perhaps +without any very good reason, that poetry was likely to perish among +us for a considerable period after the great generation of poets which +is now passing away. The age seems determined to contradict us, and +that in the most decided manner; for it has put forth poetry by a +young man, and that where we should least expect it--namely, in a +prize poem. These productions have often been ingenious and elegant +but we have never before seen one of them which indicated really +first-rate poetical genius, and which would have done honour to any +men that ever wrote. Such, we do not hesitate to affirm, is the little +work before us; and the examiners seem to have felt it like ourselves, +for they have assigned the prize to the author, though the measure in +which he writes was never before, we believe, thus selected for +honour. We extract a few lines to justify our admiration (50 lines, +62-112, quoted). How many men have lived for a century who could equal +this?' At the time when this highly eulogistic notice of the youthful +unknown poet appeared, the _Athenæum_ was edited by John Sterling and +Frederick Denison Maurice, its then proprietors.] + + +[Footnote A: Mr Swinburne failed to find this couplet in any of +Chapman's original poems or translations, and was of opinion that it +is Tennyson's own.] + +[Footnote B: Be ye perfect even as your Father in Heaven is perfect.] + + + + +=Poems Chiefly Lyrical= + +[The poems numbered I-XXIV which follow, were published in 1830 in the +volume _Poems chiefly Lyrical_. (London: Effingham Wilson, Royal +Exchange, 1830.) They were never republished by Tennyson.] + + + + +I + +=The 'How' and the 'Why'= + + I am any man's suitor, + If any will be my tutor: + Some say this life is pleasant, + Some think it speedeth fast: + In time there is no present, + In eternity no future, + In eternity no past. + We laugh, we cry, we are born, we die, + Who will riddle me the _how_ and the _why_? + + The bulrush nods unto his brother + The wheatears whisper to each other: + What is it they say? What do they there? + Why two and two make four? Why round is not square? + Why the rocks stand still, and the light clouds fly? + Why the heavy oak groans, and the white willows sigh? + Why deep is not high, and high is not deep? + Whether we wake or whether we sleep? + Whether we sleep or whether we die? + How you are you? Why I am I? + Who will riddle me the _how_ and the _why_? + + The world is somewhat; it goes on somehow; + But what is the meaning of _then_ and _now_! + I feel there is something; but how and what? + I know there is somewhat; but what and why! + I cannot tell if that somewhat be I. + + The little bird pipeth 'why! why!' + In the summerwoods when the sun falls low, + And the great bird sits on the opposite bough, + And stares in his face and shouts 'how? how?' + And the black owl scuds down the mellow twilight, + And chaunts 'how? how?' the whole of the night. + + Why the life goes when the blood is spilt? + What the life is? where the soul may lie? + Why a church is with a steeple built; + And a house with a chimney-pot? + Who will riddle me the how and the what? + Who will riddle me the what and the why? + + + + +II + +=The Burial of Love= + + His eyes in eclipse, + Pale cold his lips, + The light of his hopes unfed, + Mute his tongue, + His bow unstrung + With the tears he hath shed, + Backward drooping his graceful head. + + Love is dead; + His last arrow sped; + He hath not another dart; + Go--carry him to his dark deathbed; + Bury him in the cold, cold heart-- + Love is dead. + + Oh, truest love! art thou forlorn, + And unrevenged? Thy pleasant wiles + Forgotten, and thine innocent joy? + Shall hollow-hearted apathy, + The cruellest form of perfect scorn, + With langour of most hateful smiles, + For ever write + In the weathered light + Of the tearless eye + An epitaph that all may spy? + No! sooner she herself shall die. + + For her the showers shall not fall, + Nor the round sun that shineth to all; + Her light shall into darkness change; + For her the green grass shall not spring, + Nor the rivers flow, nor the sweet birds sing, + Till Love have his full revenge. + + + + +III + +=To ----= + + Sainted Juliet! dearest name! + If to love be life alone, + Divinest Juliet, + I love thee, and live; and yet + Love unreturned is like the fragrant flame + Folding the slaughter of the sacrifice + Offered to Gods upon an altarthrone; + My heart is lighted at thine eyes, + Changed into fire, and blown about with sighs. + + + + +IV + +=Song= + + I + + I' the glooming light + Of middle night, + So cold and white, + Worn Sorrow sits by the moaning wave; + Beside her are laid, + Her mattock and spade, + For she hath half delved her own deep grave. + Alone she is there: + The white clouds drizzle: her hair falls loose; + Her shoulders are bare; + Her tears are mixed with the bearded dews. + + II + + Death standeth by; + She will not die; + With glazèd eye + She looks at her grave: she cannot sleep; + Ever alone + She maketh her moan: + She cannot speak; she can only weep; + For she will not hope. + The thick snow falls on her flake by flake, + The dull wave mourns down the slope, + The world will not change, and her heart will not break. + + + + +V + +=Song= + + I + + Every day hath its night: + Every night its morn: + Through dark and bright + Wingèd hours are borne; + Ah! welaway! + Seasons flower and fade; + Golden calm and storm + Mingle day by day. + There is no bright form + Doth not cast a shade-- + Ah! welaway! + + II + + When we laugh, and our mirth + Apes the happy vein, + We're so kin to earth + Pleasuance fathers pain-- + Ah! welaway! + Madness laugheth loud: + Laughter bringeth tears: + Eyes are worn away + Till the end of fears + Cometh in the shroud, + Ah! welaway! + + III + + All is change, woe or weal; + Joy is sorrow's brother; + Grief and sadness steal + Symbols of each other; + Ah! welaway! + Larks in heaven's cope + Sing: the culvers mourn + All the livelong day. + Be not all forlorn; + Let us weep in hope-- + Ah! welaway! + + + + +VI + +=Hero to Leander= + + Oh go not yet, my love, + The night is dark and vast; + The white moon is hid in her heaven above, + And the waves climb high and fast. + Oh! kiss me, kiss me, once again, + Lest thy kiss should be the last. + Oh kiss me ere we part; + Grow closer to my heart. + My heart is warmer surely than the bosom of the main. + + Oh joy! O bliss of blisses! + My heart of hearts art thou. + Come bathe me with thy kisses, + My eyelids and my brow. + Hark how the wild rain hisses, + And the loud sea roars below. + + Thy heart beats through thy rosy limbs + So gladly doth it stir; + Thine eye in drops of gladness swims. + I have bathed thee with the pleasant myrrh; + Thy locks are dripping balm; + Thou shalt not wander hence to-night, + I'll stay thee with my kisses. + To-night the roaring brine + Will rend thy golden tresses; + The ocean with the morrow light + Will be both blue and calm; + And the billow will embrace thee with a kiss as soft as mine. + + No western odours wander + On the black and moaning sea, + And when thou art dead, Leander, + My soul shall follow thee! + Oh go not yet, my love, + Thy voice is sweet and low; + The deep salt wave breaks in above + Those marble steps below. + The turretstairs are wet + That lead into the sea. + Leander! go not yet. + The pleasant stars have set! + Oh! go not, go not yet, + Or I will follow thee. + + + + +VII + +=The Mystic= + + Angels have talked with him, and showed him thrones: + Ye knew him not: he was not one of ye, + Ye scorned him with an undiscerning scorn: + Ye could not read the marvel in his eye, + The still serene abstraction; he hath felt + The vanities of after and before; + Albeit, his spirit and his secret heart + The stern experiences of converse lives, + The linkèd woes of many a fiery change + Had purified, and chastened, and made free. + Always there stood before him, night and day, + Of wayward vary coloured circumstance, + The imperishable presences serene, + Colossal, without form, or sense, or sound, + Dim shadows but unwaning presences + Fourfacèd to four corners of the sky; + And yet again, three shadows, fronting one, + One forward, one respectant, three but one; + And yet again, again and evermore, + For the two first were not, but only seemed + One shadow in the midst of a great light, + One reflex from eternity on time, + One mighty countenance of perfect calm, + Awful with most invariable eyes. + For him the silent congregated hours, + Daughters of time, divinely tall, beneath + Severe and youthful brows, with shining eyes + Smiling a godlike smile (the innocent light + Of earliest youth pierced through and through with all + Keen knowledges of low-embowèd eld) + Upheld, and ever hold aloft the cloud + Which droops low hung on either gate of life, + Both birth and death; he in the centre fixed, + Saw far on each side through the grated gates + Most pale and clear and lovely distances. + He often lying broad awake, and yet + Remaining from the body, and apart + In intellect and power and will, hath heard + Time flowing in the middle of the night, + And all things creeping to a day of doom. + How could ye know him? Ye were yet within + The narrower circle; he had well nigh reached + The last, with which a region of white flame, + Pure without heat, into a larger air + Upburning, and an ether of black hue, + Investeth and ingirds all other lives. + + + + +VIII + +=The Grasshopper= + + I + + Voice of the summerwind, + Joy of the summerplain, + Life of the summerhours, + Carol clearly, bound along. + No Tithon thou as poets feign + (Shame fall 'em they are deaf and blind) + But an insect lithe and strong, + Bowing the seeded summerflowers. + Prove their falsehood and thy quarrel, + Vaulting on thine airy feet. + Clap thy shielded sides and carol, + Carol clearly, chirrup sweet + Thou art a mailèd warrior in youth and strength complete; + Armed cap-a-pie, + Full fair to see; + Unknowing fear, + Undreading loss, + A gallant cavalier + _Sans peur et sans reproche_, + In sunlight and in shadow, + The Bayard of the meadow. + + II + + I would dwell with thee, + Merry grasshopper, + Thou art so glad and free, + And as light as air; + Thou hast no sorrow or tears, + Thou hast no compt of years, + No withered immortality, + But a short youth sunny and free. + Carol clearly, bound along, + Soon thy joy is over, + A summer of loud song, + And slumbers in the clover. + What hast thou to do with evil + In thine hour of love and revel, + In thy heat of summerpride, + Pushing the thick roots aside + Of the singing flowerèd grasses, + That brush thee with their silken tresses? + What hast thou to do with evil, + Shooting, singing, ever springing + In and out the emerald glooms, + Ever leaping, ever singing, + Lighting on the golden blooms? + + + + +IX + +=Love, Pride and Forgetfulness= + + Ere yet my heart was sweet Love's tomb, + Love laboured honey busily. + I was the hive and Love the bee, + My heart the honey-comb. + One very dark and chilly night + Pride came beneath and held a light. + + The cruel vapours went through all, + Sweet Love was withered in his cell; + Pride took Love's sweets, and by a spell + Did change them into gall; + And Memory tho' fed by Pride + Did wax so thin on gall, + Awhile she scarcely lived at all, + What marvel that she died? + + + + +X + +=Chorus= + +_In an unpublished drama written very early._ + + The varied earth, the moving heaven, + The rapid waste of roving sea, + The fountainpregnant mountains riven + To shapes of wildest anarchy, + By secret fire and midnight storms + That wander round their windy cones, + The subtle life, the countless forms + Of living things, the wondrous tones + Of man and beast are full of strange + Astonishment and boundless change. + + The day, the diamonded light, + The echo, feeble child of sound, + The heavy thunder's girding might, + The herald lightning's starry bound, + The vocal spring of bursting bloom, + The naked summer's glowing birth, + The troublous autumn's sallow gloom, + The hoarhead winter paving earth + With sheeny white, are full of strange + Astonishment and boundless change. + + Each sun which from the centre flings + Grand music and redundant fire, + The burning belts, the mighty rings, + The murmurous planets' rolling choir, + The globefilled arch that, cleaving air, + Lost in its effulgence sleeps, + The lawless comets as they glare, + And thunder thro' the sapphire deeps + In wayward strength, are full of strange + Astonishment and boundless change. + + + + +XI + +=Lost Hope= + + You cast to ground the hope which once was mine, + But did the while your harsh decree deplore, + Embalming with sweet tears the vacant shrine, + My heart, where Hope had been and was no more. + + So on an oaken sprout + A goodly acorn grew; + But winds from heaven shook the acorn out, + And filled the cup with dew. + + + + +XII + +=The Tears of Heaven= + + Heaven weeps above the earth all night till morn, + In darkness weeps, as all ashamed to weep, + Because the earth hath made her state forlorn + With selfwrought evils of unnumbered years, + And doth the fruit of her dishonour reap. + And all the day heaven gathers back her tears + Into her own blue eyes so clear and deep, + And showering down the glory of lightsome day, + Smiles on the earth's worn brow to win her if she may. + + + + +XIII + +=Love and Sorrow= + + O maiden, fresher than the first green leaf + With which the fearful springtide flecks the lea, + Weep not, Almeida, that I said to thee + That thou hast half my heart, for bitter grief + Doth hold the other half in sovranty. + Thou art my heart's sun in love's crystalline: + Yet on both sides at once thou canst not shine: + Thine is the bright side of my heart, and thine + My heart's day, but the shadow of my heart, + Issue of its own substance, my heart's night + Thou canst not lighten even with _thy_ light, + All powerful in beauty as thou art. + Almeida, if my heart were substanceless, + Then might thy rays pass thro' to the other side, + So swiftly, that they nowhere would abide, + But lose themselves in utter emptiness. + Half-light, half-shadow, let my spirit sleep + They never learnt to love who never knew to weep. + + + + +XIV + +=To a Lady Sleeping= + + O thou whose fringèd lids I gaze upon, + Through whose dim brain the wingèd dreams are born, + Unroof the shrines of clearest vision, + In honour of the silverfleckèd morn: + Long hath the white wave of the virgin light + Driven back the billow of the dreamful dark. + Thou all unwittingly prolongest night, + Though long ago listening the poisèd lark, + With eyes dropt downward through the blue serene, + Over heaven's parapets the angels lean. + + + + +XV + +=Sonnet= + + Could I outwear my present state of woe + With one brief winter, and indue i' the spring + Hues of fresh youth, and mightily outgrow + The wan dark coil of faded suffering-- + Forth in the pride of beauty issuing + A sheeny snake, the light of vernal bowers, + Moving his crest to all sweet plots of flowers + And watered vallies where the young birds sing; + Could I thus hope my lost delights renewing, + I straightly would commend the tears to creep + From my charged lids; but inwardly I weep: + Some vital heat as yet my heart is wooing: + This to itself hath drawn the frozen rain + From my cold eyes and melted it again. + + + + +XVI + +=Sonnet= + + Though Night hath climbed her peak of highest noon, + And bitter blasts the screaming autumn whirl, + All night through archways of the bridgèd pearl + And portals of pure silver walks the moon. + Wake on, my soul, nor crouch to agony: + Turn cloud to light, and bitterness to joy, + And dross to gold with glorious alchemy, + Basing thy throne above the world's annoy. + Reign thou above the storms of sorrow and ruth + That roar beneath; unshaken peace hath won thee: + So shall thou pierce the woven glooms of truth; + So shall the blessing of the meek be on thee; + So in thine hour of dawn, the body's youth, + An honourable eld shall come upon thee. + + + + +XVII + +=Sonnet= + + Shall the hag Evil die with the child of Good, + Or propagate again her loathèd kind, + Thronging the cells of the diseased mind, + Hateful with hanging cheeks, a withered brood, + Though hourly pastured on the salient blood? + Oh! that the wind which bloweth cold or heat + Would shatter and o'erbear the brazen beat + Of their broad vans, and in the solitude + Of middle space confound them, and blow back + Their wild cries down their cavernthroats, and slake + With points of blastborne hail their heated eyne! + So their wan limbs no more might come between + The moon and the moon's reflex in the night; + Nor blot with floating shades the solar light. + + + + +XVIII + +=Sonnet= + + The palid thunderstricken sigh for gain, + Down an ideal stream they ever float, + And sailing on Pactolus in a boat, + Drown soul and sense, while wistfully they strain + Weak eyes upon the glistering sands that robe + The understream. The wise could he behold + Cathedralled caverns of thick-ribbèd gold + And branching silvers of the central globe, + Would marvel from so beautiful a sight + How scorn and ruin, pain and hate could flow: + But Hatred in a gold cave sits below, + Pleached with her hair, in mail of argent light + Shot into gold, a snake her forehead clips + And skins the colour from her trembling lips. + + + + +XIX + +=Love= + + I + + Thou, from the first, unborn, undying love, + Albeit we gaze not on thy glories near, + Before the face of God didst breath and move, + Though night and pain and ruin and death reign here. + Thou foldest, like a golden atmosphere, + The very throne of the eternal God: + Passing through thee the edicts of his fear + Are mellowed into music, borne abroad + By the loud winds, though they uprend the sea, + Even from his central deeps: thine empery + Is over all: thou wilt not brook eclipse; + Thou goest and returnest to His Lips + Like lightning: thou dost ever brood above + The silence of all hearts, unutterable Love. + + II + + To know thee is all wisdom, and old age + Is but to know thee: dimly we behold thee + Athwart the veils of evil which enfold thee + We beat upon our aching hearts with rage; + We cry for thee: we deem the world thy tomb. + As dwellers in lone planets look upon + The mighty disk of their majestic sun, + Hallowed in awful chasms of wheeling gloom, + Making their day dim, so we gaze on thee. + Come, thou of many crowns, white-robèd love, + Oh! rend the veil in twain: all men adore thee; + Heaven crieth after thee; earth waileth for thee: + Breathe on thy wingèd throne, and it shall move + In music and in light o'er land and sea. + + III + + And now--methinks I gaze upon thee now, + As on a serpent in his agonies + Awestricken Indians; what time laid low + And crushing the thick fragrant reeds he lies, + When the new year warm breathèd on the earth, + Waiting to light him with his purple skies, + Calls to him by the fountain to uprise. + Already with the pangs of a new birth + Strain the hot spheres of his convulsèd eyes, + And in his writhings awful hues begin + To wander down his sable sheeny sides, + Like light on troubled waters: from within + Anon he rusheth forth with merry din, + And in him light and joy and strength abides; + And from his brows a crown of living light + Looks through the thickstemmed woods by day and night + + + + +XX + +=English War Song= + + Who fears to die? Who fears to die? + Is there any here who fears to die + He shall find what he fears, and none shall grieve + For the man who fears to die: + But the withering scorn of the many shall cleave + To the man who fears to die. + + _Chorus_.--Shout for England! + Ho! for England! + George for England! + Merry England! + England for aye! + + The hollow at heart shall crouch forlorn, + He shall eat the bread of common scorn; + It shall be steeped in the salt, salt tear, + Shall be steeped in his own salt tear: + Far better, far better he never were born + Than to shame merry England here. + + _Chorus_.--Shout for England! etc. + + There standeth our ancient enemy; + Hark! he shouteth--the ancient enemy! + On the ridge of the hill his banners rise; + They stream like fire in the skies; + Hold up the Lion of England on high + Till it dazzle and blind his eyes. + + _Chorus_.--Shout for England! etc. + + Come along! we alone of the earth are free; + The child in our cradles is bolder than he; + For where is the heart and strength of slaves? + Oh! where is the strength of slaves? + He is weak! we are strong; he a slave, we are free; + Come along! we will dig their graves. + + _Chorus_.--Shout for England! etc. + + There standeth our ancient enemy; + Will he dare to battle with the free? + Spur along! spur amain! charge to the fight: + Charge! charge to the fight! + Hold up the Lion of England on high! + Shout for God and our right! + + _Chorus_.--Shout for England! etc. + + + + +XXI + +=National Song= + + There is no land like England + Where'er the light of day be; + There are no hearts like English hearts, + Such hearts of oak as they be. + There is no land like England + Where'er the light of day be; + There are no men like Englishmen, + So tall and bold as they be. + + _Chorus_.--For the French the Pope may shrive 'em, + For the devil a whit we heed 'em, + As for the French, God speed 'em + Unto their hearts' desire, + And the merry devil drive 'em + Through the water and the fire. + + _Chorus_.--Our glory is our freedom, + We lord it o'er the sea; + We are the sons of freedom, + We are free. + + There is no land like England, + Where'er the light of day be; + There are no wives like English wives, + So fair and chaste as they be. + There is no land like England, + Where'er the light of day be, + There are no maids like English maids, + So beautiful as they be. + + _Chorus_.--For the French, etc. + +[Sixty years after first publication this Song was incorporated in +'The Foresters' (published 1892) as the opening chorus of the second +act. The two verses were unaltered, but the two choruses were +re-written.] + + + + +XXII + +=Dualisms= + + Two bees within a chrystal flowerbell rockèd + Hum a lovelay to the westwind at noontide. + Both alike, they buzz together, + Both alike, they hum together + Through and through the flowered heather. + + Where in a creeping cove the wave unshockèd + Lays itself calm and wide, + Over a stream two birds of glancing feather + Do woo each other, carolling together. + Both alike, they glide together + Side by side; + Both alike, they sing together, + Arching blue-glossèd necks beneath the purple weather. + + Two children lovelier than love, adown the lea are singing, + As they gambol, lilygarlands ever stringing: + Both in blosmwhite silk are frockèd: + Like, unlike, they roam together + Under a summervault of golden weather; + Like, unlike, they sing together + Side by side; + Mid May's darling goldenlockèd, + Summer's tanling diamondeyed. + + + + +XXIII + +[Greek: ohi rheontes] + + I + + All thoughts, all creeds, all dreams are true, + All visions wild and strange; + Man is the measure of all truth + Unto himself. All truth is change: + All men do walk in sleep, and all + Have faith in that they dream: + For all things are as they seem to all, + And all things flow like a stream. + + II + + There is no rest, no calm, no pause, + Nor good nor ill, nor light nor shade, + Nor essence nor eternal laws: + For nothing is, but all is made, + But if I dream that all these are, + They are to me for that I dream; + For all things are as they seem to all, + And all things flow like a stream. + + +Argal.--This very opinion is only true relatively to the flowing +philosophers. (Tennyson's note.) + + + + +XXIV + +=Song= + + I + + The lintwhite and the throstlecock + Have voices sweet and clear; + All in the bloomèd May. + They from the blosmy brere + Call to the fleeting year, + If that he would them hear + And stay. + Alas! that one so beautiful + Should have so dull an ear. + + II + + Fair year, fair year, thy children call, + But thou art deaf as death; + All in the bloomèd May. + When thy light perisheth + That from thee issueth, + Our life evanisheth: + Oh! stay. + Alas! that lips so cruel dumb + Should have so sweet a breath! + + III + + Fair year, with brows of royal love + Thou comest, as a King. + All in the bloomèd May. + Thy golden largess fling, + And longer hear us sing; + Though thou art fleet of wing, + Yet stay. + Alas! that eyes so full of light + Should be so wandering! + + IV + + Thy locks are full of sunny sheen + In rings of gold yronne,[C] + All in the bloomèd May, + We pri' thee pass not on; + If thou dost leave the sun, + Delight is with thee gone, + Oh! stay. + Thou art the fairest of thy feres, + We pri' thee pass not on. + +[Footnote C: His crispè hair in ringis was yronne.--Chaucer, _Knight's +Tale_. (Tennyson's note.)] + + + + +=Contributions to Periodicals 1831-32= + + +XXV + +=A Fragment= + +[Published in _The Gem: a Literary Annual_. London: W. Marshall, +Holborn Bars, mdcccxxxi.] + + Where is the Giant of the Sun, which stood + In the midnoon the glory of old Rhodes, + A perfect Idol, with profulgent brows + Far sheening down the purple seas to those + Who sailed from Mizraim underneath the star + Named of the Dragon--and between whose limbs + Of brassy vastness broad-blown Argosies + Drave into haven? Yet endure unscathed + Of changeful cycles the great Pyramids + Broad-based amid the fleeting sands, and sloped + Into the slumberous summer noon; but where, + Mysterious Egypt, are thine obelisks + Graven with gorgeous emblems undiscerned? + Thy placid Sphinxes brooding o'er the Nile? + Thy shadowy Idols in the solitudes, + Awful Memnonian countenances calm + Looking athwart the burning flats, far off + Seen by the high-necked camel on the verge + Journeying southward? Where are thy monuments + Piled by the strong and sunborn Anakim + Over their crowned brethren [Greek: ON] and [Greek: ORÊ]? + Thy Memnon, when his peaceful lips are kissed + With earliest rays, that from his mother's eyes + Flow over the Arabian bay, no more + Breathes low into the charmed ears of morn + Clear melody flattering the crisped Nile + By columned Thebes. Old Memphis hath gone down: + The Pharaohs are no more: somewhere in death + They sleep with staring eyes and gilded lips, + Wrapped round with spiced cerements in old grots + Rock-hewn and sealed for ever. + + + + +XXVI + +=Anacreontics= + +[Published in _The Gem: a Literary Annual_. London: W. Marshall, +Holborn Bars, mdcccxxxi.] + + With roses musky breathed, + And drooping daffodilly, + And silverleaved lily, + And ivy darkly-wreathed, + I wove a crown before her, + For her I love so dearly, + A garland for Lenora. + With a silken cord I bound it. + Lenora, laughing clearly + A light and thrilling laughter, + About her forehead wound it, + And loved me ever after. + + + + +XXVII + +[Published in _The Gem: a Literary Annual_. London: W. Marshall, +Holborn Bars, mdcccxxxi.] + + O sad _No more!_ O sweet _No more!_ + O strange _No more!_ + By a mossed brookbank on a stone + I smelt a wildweed flower alone; + There was a ringing in my ears, + And both my eyes gushed out with tears. + Surely all pleasant things had gone before, + Low-buried fathom deep beneath with thee, + NO MORE! + + + + +XXVIII + +=Sonnet= + +[Published in the _Englishman's Magazine_, August, 1831. London: +Edward Moxon, 64 New Bond Street. Reprinted in _Friendship's Offering: +a Literary Album_ for 1833. London; Smith and Elder.] + + Check every outflash, every ruder sally + Of thought and speech; speak low, and give up wholly + Thy spirit to mild-minded Melancholy; + This is the place. Through yonder poplar alley + Below, the blue-green river windeth slowly; + But in the middle of the sombre valley + The crispèd waters whisper musically, + And all the haunted place is dark and holy. + The nightingale, with long and low preamble, + Warbled from yonder knoll of solemn larches, + And in and out the woodbine's flowery arches + The summer midges wove their wanton gambol, + And all the white-stemmed pinewood slept above-- + When in this valley first I told my love. + + + + +XXIX + +=Sonnet= + +[Published in _Friendships Offering: a Literary Album_ for 1832. +London: Smith and Elder.] + + Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh: + Thy woes are birds of passage, transitory: + Thy spirit, circled with a living glory, + In summer still a summer joy resumeth. + Alone my hopeless melancholy gloometh, + Like a lone cypress, through the twilight hoary, + From an old garden where no flower bloometh, + One cypress on an inland promontory. + But yet my lonely spirit follows thine, + As round the rolling earth night follows day: + But yet thy lights on my horizon shine + Into my night when thou art far away; + I am so dark, alas! and thou so bright, + When we two meet there's never perfect light. + + + + +XXX + +=Sonnet= + +[Published in the _Yorkshire Literary Annual_ for 1832. Edited by C.F. +Edgar, London: Longman and Co. Reprinted in the _Athenæum_, 4 May, +1867.] + + There are three things that fill my heart with sighs + And steep my soul in laughter (when I view + Fair maiden forms moving like melodies), + Dimples, roselips, and eyes of any hue. + + There are three things beneath the blessed skies + For which I live--black eyes, and brown and blue; + I hold them all most dear; but oh! black eyes, + I live and die, and only die for you. + + Of late such eyes looked at me--while I mused + At sunset, underneath a shadowy plane + In old Bayona, nigh the Southern Sea-- + From an half-open lattice looked at _me_. + + I saw no more only those eyes--confused + And dazzled to the heart with glorious pain. + + + + +=Poems, 1833= + + +[The poems numbered XXXI-XXXIX were published in the 1832 volume +(_Poems by Alfred Tennyson_. London: Edward Moxon, 94 New Bond Street. +MDCCCXXXIII; published December, 1832), and were thereafter +suppressed.] + + + + +XXXI + +=Sonnet= + + Oh, Beauty, passing beauty! sweetest Sweet! + How canst thou let me waste my youth in sighs; + I only ask to sit beside thy feet. + Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes, + Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold + My arms about thee--scarcely dare to speak. + And nothing seems to me so wild and bold, + As with one kiss to touch thy blessèd cheek. + Methinks if I should kiss thee, no control + Within the thrilling brain could keep afloat + The subtle spirit. Even while I spoke, + The bare word KISS hath made my inner soul + To tremble like a lutestring, ere the note + Hath melted in the silence that it broke. + + + + +XXXII + +=The Hesperides= + + Hesperus and his daughters three + That sing about the golden tree. + --COMUS. + + The Northwind fall'n, in the newstarréd night + Zidonian Hanno, voyaging beyond + The hoary promontory of Soloë + Past Thymiaterion, in calmèd bays, + Between the Southern and the Western Horn, + Heard neither warbling of the nightingale, + Nor melody o' the Lybian lotusflute + Blown seaward from the shore; but from a slope + That ran bloombright into the Atlantic blue, + Beneath a highland leaning down a weight + Of cliffs, and zoned below with cedarshade, + Came voices, like the voices in a dream, + Continuous till he reached the other sea. + + +_Song_ + + I + + The golden apple, the golden apple, the hallowed fruit, + Guard it well, guard it warily, + Singing airily, + Standing about the charméd root. + Round about all is mute, + As the snowfield on the mountain-peaks, + As the sandfield at the mountain-foot. + Crocodiles in briny creeks + Sleep and stir not: all is mute. + If ye sing not, if ye make false measure, + We shall lose eternal pleasure, + Worth eternal want of rest. + Laugh not loudly: watch the treasure + Of the wisdom of the West. + In a corner wisdom whispers. Five and three + (Let it not be preached abroad) make an awful mystery. + For the blossom unto three-fold music bloweth; + Evermore it is born anew; + And the sap to three-fold music floweth, + From the root + Drawn in the dark, + Up to the fruit, + Creeping under the fragrant bark, + Liquid gold, honeysweet thro' and thro'. + Keen-eyed Sisters, singing airily, + Looking warily + Every way, + Guard the apple night and day, + Lest one from the East come and take it away. + + II + + Father Hesper, Father Hesper, watch, watch, ever and aye, + Looking under silver hair with a silver eye. + Father, twinkle not thy stedfast sight; + Kingdoms lapse, and climates change, and races die; + Honour comes with mystery; + Hoarded wisdom brings delight. + Number, tell them over and number + How many the mystic fruit-tree holds, + Lest the redcombed dragon slumber + Rolled together in purple folds. + Look to him, father, lest he wink, and the golden apple be stol'n away, + For his ancient heart is drunk with overwatchings night and day, + Round about the hallowed fruit tree curled-- + Sing away, sing aloud and evermore in the wind, without stop, + Lest his scalèd eyelid drop, + For he is older than the world. + If he waken, we waken, + Rapidly levelling eager eyes. + If he sleep, we sleep, + Dropping the eyelid over the eyes. + If the golden apple be taken + The world will be overwise. + Five links, a golden chain, are we, + Hesper, the dragon, and sisters three, + Bound about the golden tree. + + III + + Father Hesper, Father Hesper, watch, watch, night and day, + Lest the old wound of the world be healèd, + The glory unsealèd, + The golden apple stol'n away, + And the ancient secret revealèd. + Look from west to east along: + Father, old Himla weakens, Caucasus is bold and strong. + Wandering waters unto wandering waters call; + Let them clash together, foam and fall. + Out of watchings, out of wiles, + Comes the bliss of secret smiles, + All things are not told to all, + Half round the mantling night is drawn, + Purplefringed with even and dawn. + Hesper hateth Phosphor, evening hateth morn. + + IV + + Every flower and every fruit the redolent breath + Of this warm seawind ripeneth, + Arching the billow in his sleep; + But the land-wind wandereth, + Broken by the highland-steep, + Two streams upon the violet deep: + For the western sun and the western star, + And the low west wind, breathing afar, + The end of day and beginning of night + Make the apple holy and bright, + Holy and bright, round and full, bright and blest, + Mellowed in a land of rest; + Watch it warily day and night; + All good things are in the west, + Till midnoon the cool east light + Is shut out by the round of the tall hillbrow; + But when the fullfaced sunset yellowly + Stays on the flowering arch of the bough, + The luscious fruitage clustereth mellowly, + Goldenkernelled, goldencored, + Sunset ripened, above on the tree, + The world is wasted with fire and sword, + But the apple of gold hangs over the sea, + Five links, a golden chain, are we, + Hesper, the dragon, and sisters three, + Daughters three, + Bound about + All round about + The gnarlèd bole of the charmèd tree, + The golden apple, the golden apple, the hallowed fruit, + Guard it well, guard it warily, + Watch it warily, + Singing airily, + Standing about the charmèd root. + + + + +XXXIII + +=Rosalind= + + My Rosalind, my Rosalind, + Bold, subtle, careless Rosalind, + Is one of those who know no strife + Of inward woe or outward fear; + To whom the slope and stream of life, + The life before, the life behind, + In the ear, from far and near, + Chimeth musically clear. + My falconhearted Rosalind + Fullsailed before a vigorous wind, + Is one of those who cannot weep + For others' woes, but overleap + All the petty shocks and fears + That trouble life in early years, + With a flash of frolic scorn + And keen delight, that never falls + Away from freshness, self-upborne + With such gladness, as, whenever + The freshflushing springtime calls + To the flooding waters cool, + Young fishes, on an April morn, + Up and down a rapid river, + Leap the little waterfalls + That sing into the pebbled pool. + My happy falcon, Rosalind, + Hath daring fancies of her own, + Fresh as the dawn before the day, + Fresh as the early seasmell blown + Through vineyards from an inland bay. + My Rosalind, my Rosalind, + Because no shadow on you falls, + Think you hearts are tennis balls + To play with, wanton Rosalind? + + + + +XXXIV + +=Song= + + Who can say + Why To-day + To-morrow will be yesterday? + Who can tell + Why to smell + The violet, recalls the dewy prime + Of youth and buried time? + The cause is nowhere found in rhyme. + + + + +XXXV + +=Sonnet= + +_Written on hearing of the outbreak of the Polish Insurrection._ + + Blow ye the trumpet, gather from afar + The hosts to battle: be not bought and sold. + Arise, brave Poles, the boldest of the bold; + Break through your iron shackles--fling them far. + O for those days of Piast, ere the Czar + Grew to this strength among his deserts cold; + When even to Moscow's cupolas were rolled + The growing murmurs of the Polish war! + Now must your noble anger blaze out more + Than when from Sobieski, clan by clan, + The Moslem myriads fell, and fled before-- + Than when Zamoysky smote the Tartar Khan, + Than earlier, when on the Baltic shore + Boleslas drove the Pomeranian. + + + + +XXXVI + +=O Darling Room=[D] + + I + + O darling room, my heart's delight, + Dear room, the apple of my sight, + With thy two couches soft and white, + There is no room so exquisite, + No little room so warm and bright + Wherein to read, wherein to write. + + II + + For I the Nonnenwerth have seen, + And Oberwinter's vineyards green, + Musical Lurlei; and between + The hills to Bingen have I been, + Bingen in Darmstadt, where the Rhene + Curves towards Mentz, a woody scene. + + III + + Yet never did there meet my sight, + In any town, to left or right, + A little room so exquisite, + With two such couches soft and white; + Not any room so warm and bright, + Wherein to read, wherein to write. + +[Footnote D: 'As soon as this poem was published, I altered the second +line to "All books and pictures ranged aright"; yet "Dear room, the +apple of my sight" (which was much abused) is not as bad as "Do go, +dear rain, do go away."' [Note initialed 'A.T.' in _Life_, vol. I, p. +89.] The worthlessness of much of the criticism lavished on Tennyson +by his coterie of adulating friends may be judged from the fact that +Arthur Hallam wrote to Tennyson that this poem was 'mighty +pleasant.'] + + + + +XXXVII + +=To Christopher North= + + You did late review my lays, + Crusty Christopher; + You did mingle blame and praise, + Rusty Christopher. + When I learnt from whom it came, + I forgave you all the blame, + Musty Christopher; + I could _not_ forgive the praise, + Fusty Christopher. + +[This epigram was Tennyson's reply to an article by Professor +Wilson--'Christopher North'--in _Blackwood's Magazine_ for May 1832, +dealing in sensible fashion with Tennyson's 1830 volume, and +ridiculing the fulsome praise lavished on him by his inconsiderate +friends--especially referring to Arthur Hallam's article in the +_Englishman's Magazine_ for August, 1831.] + + + + +XXXVIII + +=The Lotos-Eaters= + +[These forty lines formed the conclusion to the original (1833) +version of the poem. When the poem was reprinted in the 1842 volumes +these lines were suppressed.] + + We have had enough of motion, + Weariness and wild alarm, + Tossing on the tossing ocean, + Where the tuskèd seahorse walloweth + In a stripe of grassgreen calm, + At noon-tide beneath the lea; + And the monstrous narwhale swalloweth + His foamfountains in the sea. + Long enough the winedark wave our weary bark did carry. + This is lovelier and sweeter, + Men of Ithaca, this is meeter, + In the hollow rosy vale to tarry, + Like a dreamy Lotos-eater, a delirious Lotos-eater! + We will eat the Lotos, sweet + As the yellow honeycomb, + In the valley some, and some + On the ancient heights divine; + And no more roam, + On the loud hoar foam, + To the melancholy home + At the limit of the brine, + The little isle of Ithaca, beneath the day's decline. + We'll lift no more the shattered oar, + No more unfurl the straining sail; + With the blissful Lotos-eaters pale + We will abide in the golden vale + Of the Lotos-land, till the Lotos fail; + We will not wander more. + Hark! how sweet the horned ewes bleat + On the solitary steeps, + And the merry lizard leaps, + And the foam-white waters pour; + And the dark pine weeps, + And the lithe vine creeps, + And the heavy melon sleeps + On the level of the shore: + Oh! islanders of Ithaca, we will not wander more, + Surely, surely, slumber is more sweet than toil, the shore + Than labour in the ocean, and rowing with the oar, + Oh! islanders of Ithaca, we will return no more. + + + + +XXXIX + +=A Dream of Fair Women= + +[In the 1833 volume the poem opened with the following four verses, +suppressed after 1842. These Fitz Gerald considered made 'a perfect +poem by themselves.'] + + As when a man, that sails in a balloon, + Downlooking sees the solid shining ground + Stream from beneath him in the broad blue noon, + Tilth, hamlet, mead and mound: + + And takes his flags and waves them to the mob + That shout below, all faces turned to where + Glows rubylike the far-up crimson globe, + Filled with a finer air: + + So, lifted high, the poet at his will + Lets the great world flit from him, seeing all, + Higher thro' secret splendours mounting still, + Self-poised, nor fears to fall. + + Hearing apart the echoes of his fame. + While I spoke thus, the seedsman, Memory, + Sowed my deep-furrowed thought with many a name + Whose glory will not die. + + + + +=Miscellaneous Poems and Contributions to Periodicals= +=1833-1868= + + + + +XL + +=Cambridge= + +[This poem is written in pencil on the fly-leaf of a copy of _Poems_ +1833 in the Dyce Collection in South Kensington Museum. Reprinted with +many alterations in _Life_, vol. I, p. 67.] + + Therefore your halls, your ancient colleges, + Your portals statued with old kings and queens, + Your bridges and your busted libraries, + Wax-lighted chapels and rich carved screens, + Your doctors and your proctors and your deans + Shall not avail you when the day-beam sports + New-risen o'er awakened Albion--No, + Nor yet your solemn organ-pipes that blow + Melodious thunders through your vacant courts + At morn and even; for your manner sorts + Not with this age, nor with the thoughts that roll, + Because the words of little children preach + Against you,--ye that did profess to teach + And have taught nothing, feeding on the soul. + + + + +XLI + +=The Germ of 'Maud'= + +[There was published in 1837 in _The Tribute_, (a collection of +original poems by various authors, edited by Lord Northampton), a +contribution by Tennyson entitled 'Stanzas,' consisting of xvi stanzas +of varying lengths (110 lines in all). In 1855 the first xii stanzas +were published as the fourth section of the second part of 'Maud.' +Some verbal changes and transpositions of lines were made; a new +stanza (the present sixth) and several new lines were introduced, and +the xth stanza of 1837 became the xiiith of 1855. But stanzas xiii-xvi +of 1837 have never been reprinted in any edition of Tennyson's works, +though quoted in whole or part in various critical studies of the +poet. Swinburne refers to this poem as 'the poem of deepest charm and +fullest delight of pathos and melody ever written, even by Mr +Tennyson.' This poem in _The Tribute_ gained Tennyson his first notice +in the _Edinburgh Review_, which had till then ignored him.] + + XIII + + But she tarries in her place + And I paint the beauteous face + Of the maiden, that I lost, + In my inner eyes again, + Lest my heart be overborne, + By the thing I hold in scorn, + By a dull mechanic ghost + And a juggle of the brain. + + XIV + + I can shadow forth my bride + As I knew her fair and kind + As I woo'd her for my wife; + She is lovely by my side + In the silence of my life-- + 'Tis a phantom of the mind. + + XV + + 'Tis a phantom fair and good + I can call it to my side, + So to guard my life from ill, + Tho' its ghastly sister glide + And be moved around me still + With the moving of the blood + That is moved not of the will. + + XVI + + Let it pass, the dreary brow, + Let the dismal face go by, + Will it lead me to the grave? + Then I lose it: it will fly: + Can it overlast the nerves? + Can it overlive the eye? + But the other, like a star, + Thro' the channel windeth far + Till it fade and fail and die, + To its Archetype that waits + Clad in light by golden gates, + Clad in light the Spirit waits + To embrace me in the sky. + + + + +XLII + +[On the fly-leaf of a book illustrated by Bewick, in the library of +the late Lord Ravensworth, the following lines in Tennyson's autograph +were discovered in 1903.] + + A gate and a field half ploughed, + A solitary cow, + A child with a broken slate, + And a titmarsh in the bough. + But where, alack, is Bewick + To tell the meaning now? + + + + +XLIII + +=The Skipping-Rope= + +[This poem, published in the second volume of _Poems by Alfred +Tennyson_ (in two volumes, London, Edward Moxon, MDCCCXLII), was +reprinted in every edition until 1851, when it was suppressed.] + + Sure never yet was Antelope + Could skip so lightly by. + Stand off, or else my skipping-rope + Will hit you in the eye. + How lightly whirls the skipping-rope! + How fairy-like you fly! + Go, get you gone, you muse and mope-- + I hate that silly sigh. + Nay, dearest, teach me how to hope, + Or tell me how to die. + There, take it, take my skipping-rope + And hang yourself thereby. + + + + +XLIV + +=The New Timon and the Poets= + +[From _Punch_, February 28, 1846. Bulwer Lytton published in 1845 his +satirical poem 'New Timon: a Romance of London,' in which he bitterly +attacked Tennyson for the civil list pension granted the previous +year, particularly referring to the poem 'O Darling Room' in the 1833 +volume. Tennyson replied in the following vigorous verses, which made +the literary sensation of the year. Tennyson afterwards declared: 'I +never sent my lines to _Punch_. John Forster did. They were too +bitter. I do not think that I should ever have published +them.'--_Life_, vol. I, p. 245.] + + We know him, out of Shakespeare's art, + And those fine curses which he spoke; + The old Timon, with his noble heart, + That, strongly loathing, greatly broke. + + So died the Old: here comes the New: + Regard him: a familiar face: + I _thought_ we knew him: What, it's you + The padded man--that wears the stays-- + + Who killed the girls and thrill'd the boys + With dandy pathos when you wrote, + A Lion, you, that made a noise, + And shook a mane en papillotes. + + And once you tried the Muses too: + You fail'd, Sir: therefore now you turn, + You fall on those who are to you + As captain is to subaltern. + + But men of long enduring hopes, + And careless what this hour may bring, + Can pardon little would-be Popes + And Brummels, when they try to sting. + + An artist, Sir, should rest in art, + And wave a little of his claim; + To have the deep poetic heart + Is more than all poetic fame. + + But you, Sir, you are hard to please; + You never look but half content: + Nor like a gentleman at ease + With moral breadth of temperament. + + And what with spites and what with fears, + You cannot let a body be: + It's always ringing in your ears, + 'They call this man as good as _me_.' + + What profits now to understand + The merits of a spotless shirt-- + A dapper boot--a little hand-- + If half the little soul is dirt? + + _You_ talk of tinsel! why we see + The old mark of rouge upon your cheeks. + _You_ prate of nature! you are he + That spilt his life about the cliques. + + A Timon you! Nay, nay, for shame: + It looks too arrogant a jest-- + The fierce old man--to take _his_ name + You bandbox. Off, and let him rest. + + + + +XLV + +=Mablethorpe= + +[Published in _Manchester Athænaum Album_, 1850. Written, 1837. +Republished, altered, in _Life_, vol. I, p. 161.] + + How often, when a child I lay reclined, + I took delight in this locality! + Here stood the infant Ilion of the mind, + And here the Grecian ships did seem to be. + + And here again I come and only find + The drain-cut levels of the marshy lea,-- + Gray sand banks and pale sunsets--dreary wind, + Dim shores, dense rains, and heavy clouded sea. + + + + +XLVI + +[Published in _The Keepsake for 1851: an illustrated annual_, edited +by Miss Power. London: David Bogue. To this issue of the Keepsake +Tennyson also contributed 'Come not when I am dead' now included in +the collected Works.] + + What time I wasted youthful hours + One of the shining wingèd powers, + Show'd me vast cliffs with crown of towers, + + As towards the gracious light I bow'd, + They seem'd high palaces and proud, + Hid now and then with sliding cloud. + + He said, 'The labour is not small; + Yet winds the pathway free to all:-- + Take care thou dost not fear to fall!' + + + + +XLVII + +=Britons, Guard your Own= + +[Published in _The Examiner_, January 31, 1852. Verses 1 (considerably +altered), 7, 8 and 10, are reprinted in Life, vol. I, p. 344.] + + Rise, Britons, rise, if manhood be not dead; + The world's last tempest darkens overhead; + The Pope has bless'd him; + The Church caress'd him; + He triumphs; maybe, we shall stand alone: + Britons, guard your own. + + His ruthless host is bought with plunder'd gold, + By lying priest's the peasant's votes controlled. + All freedom vanish'd, + The true men banished, + He triumphs; maybe, we shall stand alone. + Britons, guard your own. + + Peace-lovers we--sweet Peace we all desire-- + Peace-lovers we--but who can trust a liar?-- + Peace-lovers, haters + Of shameless traitors, + We hate not France, but this man's heart of stone. + Britons, guard your own. + + We hate not France, but France has lost her voice + This man is France, the man they call her choice. + By tricks and spying, + By craft and lying, + And murder was her freedom overthrown. + Britons, guard your own. + + 'Vive l'Empereur' may follow by and bye; + 'God save the Queen' is here a truer cry. + God save the Nation, + The toleration, + And the free speech that makes a Briton known. + Britons, guard your own. + + Rome's dearest daughter now is captive France, + The Jesuit laughs, and reckoning on his chance, + Would, unrelenting, + Kill all dissenting, + Till we were left to fight for truth alone. + Britons, guard your own. + + Call home your ships across Biscayan tides, + To blow the battle from their oaken sides. + Why waste they yonder + Their idle thunder? + Why stay they there to guard a foreign throne? + Seamen, guard your own. + + We were the best of marksmen long ago, + We won old battles with our strength, the bow. + Now practise, yeomen, + Like those bowmen, + Till your balls fly as their true shafts have flown. + Yeomen, guard your own. + + His soldier-ridden Highness might incline + To take Sardinia, Belgium, or the Rhine: + Shall we stand idle, + Nor seek to bridle + His vile aggressions, till we stand alone? + Make their cause your own. + + Should he land here, and for one hour prevail, + There must no man go back to bear the tale: + No man to bear it-- + Swear it! We swear it! + Although we fought the banded world alone, + We swear to guard our own. + + + + +XLVIII + +=Hands all Round= + +[Published in _The Examiner_, February 7, 1852. Reprinted, slightly +altered, in Life, vol. I, p. 345. Included, almost entirely +re-written, in collected Works.] + + First drink a health, this solemn night, + A health to England, every guest; + That man's the best cosmopolite + Who loves his native country best. + May Freedom's oak for ever live + With stronger life from day to day; + That man's the best Conservative + Who lops the mouldered branch away. + Hands all round! + God the tyrant's hope confound! + To this great cause of Freedom drink, my friends, + And the great name of England round and round. + + A health to Europe's honest men! + Heaven guard them from her tyrants' jails! + From wronged Poerio's noisome den, + From iron limbs and tortured nails! + We curse the crimes of Southern kings, + The Russian whips and Austrian rods-- + We likewise have our evil things; + Too much we make our Ledgers, Gods. + Yet hands all round! + God the tyrant's cause confound! + To Europe's better health we drink, my friends, + And the great name of England round and round. + + What health to France, if France be she + Whom martial progress only charms? + Yet tell her--better to be free + Than vanquish all the world in arms. + Her frantic city's flashing heats + But fire, to blast the hopes of men. + Why change the titles of your streets? + You fools, you'll want them all again. + Hands all round! + God the tyrant's cause confound! + To France, the wiser France, we drink, my friends, + And the great name of England round and round. + + Gigantic daughter of the West, + We drink to thee across the flood, + We know thee most, we love thee best, + For art thou not of British blood? + Should war's mad blast again be blown, + Permit not thou the tyrant powers + To fight thy mother here alone, + But let thy broadsides roar with ours. + Hands all round! + God the tyrant's cause confound! + To our great kinsmen of the West, my friends, + And the great name of England round and round. + + O rise, our strong Atlantic sons, + When war against our freedom springs! + O speak to Europe through your guns! + They _can_ be understood by kings. + You must not mix our Queen with those + That wish to keep their people fools; + Our freedom's foemen are her foes, + She comprehends the race she rules. + Hands all round! + God the tyrant's cause confound! + To our dear kinsmen of the West, my friends, + And the great name of England round and round. + + + + +XLIX + +=Suggested by Reading an Article in a Newspaper= + +[Published in _The Examiner_, February 14, 1852, and never reprinted +nor acknowledged. The proof sheets of the poem, with alterations in +Tennyson's autograph, were offered for public sale in 1906.] + +To the Editor of _The Examiner_. + +SIR,--I have read with much interest the poems of Merlin. The enclosed +is longer than either of those, and certainly not so good: yet as I +flatter myself that it has a smack of Merlin's style in it, and as I +feel that it expresses forcibly enough some of the feelings of our +time, perhaps you may be induced to admit it. + +TALIESSEN. + + + How much I love this writer's manly style! + By such men led, our press had ever been + The public conscience of our noble isle, + Severe and quick to feel a civic sin, + To raise the people and chastise the times + With such a heat as lives in great creative rhymes. + + O you, the Press! what good from you might spring! + What power is yours to blast a cause or bless! + I fear for you, as for some youthful king, + Lest you go wrong from power in excess. + Take heed of your wide privileges! we + The thinking men of England, loathe a tyranny. + + A freeman is, I doubt not, freest here; + The single voice may speak his mind aloud; + An honest isolation need not fear + The Court, the Church, the Parliament, the crowd. + No, nor the Press! and look you well to that-- + We must not dread in you the nameless autocrat. + + And you, dark Senate of the public pen, + You may not, like yon tyrant, deal in spies. + Yours are the public acts of public men, + But yours are not their household privacies. + I grant you one of the great Powers on earth, + But be not you the blatant traitors of the hearth. + + You hide the hand that writes: it must be so, + For better so you fight for public ends; + But some you strike can scarce return the blow; + You should be all the nobler, O my friends. + Be noble, you! nor work with faction's tools + To charm a lower sphere of fulminating fools. + + But knowing all your power to heat or cool, + To soothe a civic wound or keep it raw, + Be loyal, if you wish for wholesome rule: + Our ancient boast is this--we reverence law. + We still were loyal in our wildest fights, + Or loyally disloyal battled for our rights. + + O Grief and Shame if while I preach of laws + Whereby to guard our Freedom from offence-- + And trust an ancient manhood and the cause + Of England and her health of commonsense-- + There hang within the heavens a dark disgrace, + Some vast Assyrian doom to burst upon our race. + + I feel the thousand cankers of our State, + I fain would shake their triple-folded ease, + The hogs who can believe in nothing great, + Sneering bedridden in the down of Peace + Over their scrips and shares, their meats and wine, + With stony smirks at all things human and divine! + + I honour much, I say, this man's appeal. + We drag so deep in our commercial mire, + We move so far from greatness, that I feel + Exception to be character'd in fire. + Who looks for Godlike greatness here shall see + The British Goddess, sleek Respectability. + + Alas for her and all her small delights! + She feels not how the social frame is rack'd. + She loves a little scandal which excites; + A little feeling is a want of tact. + For her there lie in wait millions of foes, + And yet the 'not too much' is all the rule she knows. + + Poor soul! behold her: what decorous calm! + She, with her week-day worldliness sufficed, + Stands in her pew and hums her decent psalm + With decent dippings at the name of Christ! + And she has mov'd in that smooth way so long, + She hardly can believe that she shall suffer wrong. + + Alas, our Church! alas, her growing ills, + And those who tolerate not her tolerance, + But needs must sell the burthen of their wills + To that half-pagan harlot kept by France! + Free subjects of the kindliest of all thrones, + Headlong they plunge their doubts among old rags and bones. + + Alas, Church writers, altercating tribes-- + The vessel and your Church may sink in storms. + Christ cried: Woe, woe, to Pharisees and Scribes! + Like them, you bicker less for truth than forms. + I sorrow when I read the things you write, + What unheroic pertness! what un-Christian spite! + + Alas, our youth, so clever yet so small, + Thin dilletanti deep in nature's plan, + Who make the emphatic One, by whom is all, + An essence less concentred than a man! + Better wild Mahmoud's war-cry once again! + O fools, we want a manlike God and Godlike men! + + Go, frightful omens. Yet once more I turn + To you that mould men's thoughts; I call on you + To make opinion warlike, lest we learn + A sharper lesson than we ever knew. + I hear a thunder though the skies are fair, + But shrill you, loud and long, the warning-note: + Prepare! + + + + +L + +[Lord Tennyson wrote, by Royal request, two stanzas which were sung as +part of _God Save the Queen_ at a State concert in connection with the +Princess Royal's marriage: these were printed in the _Times_ of +January 26, 1858.] + + God bless our Prince and Bride! + God keep their lands allied, + God save the Queen! + Clothe them with righteousness, + Crown them with happiness, + Them with all blessings bless, + God save the Queen. + + Fair fall this hallow'd hour, + Farewell our England's flower, + God save the Queen! + Farewell, fair rose of May! + Let both the peoples say, + God bless thy marriage-day, + God bless the Queen. + + + + +LI + +=The Ringlet= + +[Published in _Enoch Arden_ volume (London: E. Moxon & Co, 1864) and +never reprinted.] + + 'Your ringlets, your ringlets, + That look so golden-gay, + If you will give me one, but one, + To kiss it night and day, + Then never chilling touch of Time + Will turn it silver-gray; + And then shall I know it is all true gold + To flame and sparkle and stream as of old, + Till all the comets in heaven are cold, + And all her stars decay.' + 'Then take it, love, and put it by; + This cannot change, nor yet can I.' + + 'My ringlet, my ringlet, + That art so golden-gay, + Now never chilling touch of Time + Can turn thee silver-gray; + And a lad may wink, and a girl may hint, + And a fool may say his say; + For my doubts and fears were all amiss, + And I swear henceforth by this and this, + That a doubt will only come for a kiss, + And a fear to be kissed away.' + 'Then kiss it, love, and put it by: + If this can change, why so can I.' + + O Ringlet, O Ringlet, + I kiss'd you night and day, + And Ringlet, O Ringlet, + You still are golden-gay, + But Ringlet, O Ringlet, + You should be silver-gray: + For what is this which now I'm told, + I that took you for true gold, + She that gave you's bought and sold, + Sold, sold. + + O Ringlet, O Ringlet, + She blush'd a rosy red, + When Ringlet, O Ringlet, + She clipt you from her head, + And Ringlet, O Ringlet, + She gave you me, and said, + 'Come, kiss it, love, and put it by: + If this can change, why so can I.' + O fie, you golden nothing, fie + You golden lie. + + O Ringlet, O Ringlet, + I count you much to blame, + For Ringlet, O Ringlet, + You put me much to shame, + So Ringlet, O Ringlet, + I doom you to the flame. + For what is this which now I learn, + Has given all my faith a turn? + Burn, you glossy heretic, burn, + Burn, burn. + + + + +LII + +=Song= + +[This first form of the Song in _The Princess_ ('Home they brought her +warrior dead') was published only in _Selections from Tennyson_. +London: E. Moxon & Co, 1864.] + + Home they brought him slain with spears. + They brought him home at even-fall: + All alone she sits and hears + Echoes in his empty hall, + Sounding on the morrow. + + The Sun peeped in from open field, + The boy began to leap and prance, + Rode upon his father's lance, + Beat upon his father's shield-- + 'Oh hush, my joy, my sorrow.' + + + + +LIII + +=1865-1866= + +[Published in _Good Words_ for March 1, 1868 as a decorative page, +with an accompanying full page plate by T. Dalziel. The lines were +never reprinted.] + + I stood on a tower in the wet, + And New Year and Old Year met, + And winds were roaring and blowing; + And I said, 'O years that meet in tears, + Have ye aught that is worth the knowing? + + 'Science enough and exploring + Wanderers coming and going + Matter enough for deploring + But aught that is worth the knowing?' + + Seas at my feet were flowing + Waves on the shingle pouring, + Old Year roaring and blowing + And New Year blowing and roaring. + + + + +=The Lover's Tale= +1833 + +[It was originally intended by Tennyson that this poem should +form part of his 1833 volume. It was put in type and, according to +custom, copies were distributed among his friends, when, on the eve of +publication, he decided to omit it. Again, in 1869, it was sent to +press with a new third part added, and was again withdrawn, the third +part only--'The Golden Supper,' founded on a story in Boccaccio's +_Decameron_--being published in the volume, 'The Holy Grail.' In 1866, +1870 and 1875, attempts had been made by Mr Herne Shepherd to publish +editions of 'The Lover's Tale,' reprinted from stray proof copies of +the 1833 printing. Each of these attempts was repressed by Tennyson, +and at last in 1879 the complete poem, as now included in the +collected Works, was issued, with an apologetic reference to the +necessity of reprinting the poem to prevent its circulation in an +unauthorised form. But the 1879 issue is considerably altered from the +original issue of 1833, as written by Tennyson in his nineteenth year. +Since only as a product of Tennyson's youth does the poem merit any +attention, it has seemed good to reprint it here as originally +written.] + +A FRAGMENT + +The Poem of the Lover's Tale (the lover is supposed to be himself a +poet) was written in my nineteenth year, and consequently contains +nearly as many faults as words. That I deemed it not wholly unoriginal +is my only apology for its publication--an apology lame and poor, and +somewhat impertinent to boot: so that if its infirmities meet with +more laughter than charity in the world, I shall not raise my voice in +its defence. I am aware how deficient the Poem is in point of art, and +it is not without considerable misgivings that I have ventured to +publish even this fragment of it. 'Enough,' says the old proverb, 'is +as good as a feast.'--(Tennyson's original introductory note.) + + Here far away, seen from the topmost cliff, + Filling with purple gloom the vacancies + Between the tufted hills the sloping seas + Hung in mid-heaven, and half-way down rare sails, + White as white clouds, floated from sky to sky. + Oh! pleasant breast of waters, quiet bay, + Like to a quiet mind in the loud world, + Where the chafed breakers of the outer sea + Sunk powerless, even as anger falls aside, + And withers on the breast of peaceful love, + Thou didst receive that belt of pines, that fledged + The hills that watch'd thee, as Love watcheth Love,-- + In thine own essence, and delight thyself + To make it wholly thine on sunny days. + Keep thou thy name of 'Lover's bay': See, Sirs, + Even now the Goddess of the Past, that takes + The heart, and sometimes toucheth but one string, + That quivers, and is silent, and sometimes + Sweeps suddenly all its half-moulder'd chords + To an old melody, begins to play + On those first-moved fibres of the brain. + I come, Great mistress of the ear and eye: + Oh! lead me tenderly, for fear the mind + Rain thro' my sight, and strangling sorrow weigh + Mine utterance with lameness. Tho' long years + Have hallowed out a valley and a gulf + Betwixt the native land of Love and me, + Breathe but a little on me, and the sail + Will draw me to the rising of the sun, + The lucid chambers of the morning star, + And East of life. + Permit me, friend, I prithee, + To pass my hand across my brows, and muse + On those dear hills, that nevermore will meet + The sight that throbs and aches beneath my touch, + As tho' there beat a heart in either eye; + For when the outer lights are darken'd thus, + The memory's vision hath a keener edge. + It grows upon me now--the semicircle + Of dark blue waters and the narrow fringe + Of curving beach--its wreaths of dripping green-- + Its pale pink shells--the summer-house aloft + That open'd on the pines with doors of glass, + A mountain nest the pleasure boat that rock'd + Light-green with its own shadow, keel to keel, + Upon the crispings of the dappled waves + That blanched upon its side. + O Love, O Hope, + They come, they crowd upon me all at once, + Moved from the cloud of unforgotten things, + That sometimes on the horizon of the mind + Lies folded--often sweeps athwart in storm-- + They flash across the darkness of my brain, + The many pleasant days, the moolit nights, + The dewy dawnings and the amber eyes, + When thou and I, Camilla, thou and I + Were borne about the bay, or safely moor'd + Beneath some low brow'd cavern, where the wave + Plash'd sapping its worn ribs (the while without, + And close above us, sang the wind-tost pine, + And shook its earthly socket, for we heard, + In rising and in falling with the tide, + Close by our ears, the huge roots strain and creak), + Eye feeding upon eye with deep intent; + And mine, with love too high to be express'd + Arrested in its sphere, and ceasing from + All contemplation of all forms, did pause + To worship mine own image, laved in light, + The centre of the splendours, all unworthy + Of such a shrine--mine image in her eyes, + By diminution made most glorious, + Moved with their motions, as those eyes were moved + With motions of the soul, as my heart beat + Twice to the melody of hers. Her face + Was starry-fair, not pale, tenderly flush'd + As 'twere with dawn. She was dark-hair'd, dark-eyed; + Oh, such dark eyes! A single glance of them + Will govern a whole life from birth to death, + Careless of all things else, led on with light + In trances and in visions: look at them, + You lose yourself in utter ignorance, + You cannot find their depth; for they go back, + And farther back, and still withdraw themselves + Quite into the deep soul, that evermore, + Fresh springing from her fountains in the brain, + Still pouring thro', floods with redundant light + Her narrow portals. + + Trust me, long ago + I should have died, if it were possible + To die in gazing on that perfectness + Which I do bear within me; I had died + But from my farthest lapse, my latest ebb, + Thine image, like a charm of light and strength + Upon the waters, pushed me back again + On these deserted sands of barren life. + Tho' from the deep vault, where the heart of hope + Fell into dust, and crumbled in the dark-- + Forgetting who to render beautiful + Her countenance with quick and healthful blood-- + Thou didst not sway me upward, could I perish + With such a costly casket in the grasp + Of memory? He, that saith it, hath o'erstepp'd + The slippery footing of his narrow wit, + And fall'n away from judgment. Thou art light, + To which my spirit leaneth all her flowers, + And length of days, and immortality + Of thought, and freshness ever self-renew'd. + For Time and Grief abode too long with Life, + And like all other friends i' the world, at last + They grew aweary of her fellowship: + So Time and Grief did beckon unto Death, + And Death drew nigh and beat the doors of Life; + But thou didst sit alone in the inner house, + A wakeful port'ress and didst parle with Death, + 'This is a charmed dwelling which I hold'; + So Death gave back, and would no further come. + Yet is my life nor in the present time, + Nor in the present place. To me alone, + Pushed from his chair of regal heritage, + The Present is the vassal of the Past: + So that, in that I _have_ lived, do I live, + And cannot die, and am, in having been, + A portion of the pleasant yesterday, + Thrust forward on to-day and out of place; + A body journeying onward, sick with toil, + The lithe limbs bow'd as with a heavy weight + And all the senses weaken'd in all save that + Which, long ago, they had glean'd and garner'd up + Into the granaries of memory-- + The clear brow, bulwark of the precious brain, + Now seam'd and chink'd with years--and all the while + The light soul twines and mingles with the growths + Of vigorous early days, attracted, won, + Married, made one with, molten into all + The beautiful in Past of act or place. + Even as the all-enduring camel, driven + Far from the diamond fountain by the palms, + Toils onward thro' the middle moonlight nights, + Shadow'd and crimson'd with the drifting dust, + Or when the white heats of the blinding noons + Beat from the concave sand; yet in him keeps + A draught of that sweet fountain that he loves, + To stay his feet from falling, and his spirit + From bitterness of death. + + Ye ask me, friends, + When I began to love. How should I tell ye? + Or from the after fulness of my heart, + Flow back again unto my slender spring + And first of love, tho' every turn and depth + Between is clearer in my life than all + Its present flow. Ye know not what ye ask. + How should the broad and open flower tell + What sort of bud it was, when press'd together + In its green sheath, close lapt in silken folds? + It seemed to keep its sweetness to itself, + Yet was not the less sweet for that it seem'd. + For young Life knows not when young Life was born, + But takes it all for granted: neither Love, + Warm in the heart, his cradle can remember + Love in the womb, but resteth satisfied, + Looking on her that brought him to the light: + Or as men know not when they fall asleep + Into delicious dreams, our other life, + So know I not when I began to love. + This is my sum of knowledge--that my love + Grew with myself--and say rather, was my growth, + My inward sap, the hold I have on earth, + My outward circling air wherein I breathe, + Which yet upholds my life, and evermore + Was to me daily life and daily death: + For how should I have lived and not have loved? + Can ye take off the sweetness from the flower, + The colour and the sweetness from the rose, + And place them by themselves? or set apart + Their motions and their brightness from the stars, + And then point out the flower or the star? + Or build a wall betwixt my life and love, + And tell me where I am? 'Tis even thus: + In that I live I love; because I love + I live: whate'er is fountain to the one + Is fountain to the other; and whene'er + Our God unknits the riddle of the one, + There is no shade or fold of mystery + Swathing the other. + + Many, many years, + For they seem many and my most of life, + And well I could have linger'd in that porch, + So unproportioned to the dwelling place, + In the maydews of childhood, opposite + The flush and dawn of youth, we lived together, + Apart, alone together on those hills. + Before he saw my day my father died, + And he was happy that he saw it not: + But I and the first daisy on his grave + From the same clay came into light at once. + As Love and I do number equal years + So she, my love, is of an age with me. + How like each other was the birth of each! + The sister of my mother--she that bore + Camilla close beneath her beating heart, + Which to the imprisoned spirit of the child, + With its true touched pulses in the flow + And hourly visitation of the blood, + Sent notes of preparation manifold, + And mellow'd echoes of the outer world-- + My mother's sister, mother of my love, + Who had a twofold claim upon my heart, + One twofold mightier than the other was, + In giving so much beauty to the world, + And so much wealth as God had charged her with, + Loathing to put it from herself for ever, + Crown'd with her highest act the placid face + And breathless body of her good deeds past. + So we were born, so orphan'd. She was motherless, + And I without a father. So from each + Of those two pillars which from earth uphold + Our childhood, one had fall'n away, and all + The careful burthen of our tender years + Trembled upon the other. He that gave + Her life, to me delightedly fulfill'd + All loving-kindnesses, all offices + Of watchful care and trembling tenderness. + He worked for both: he pray'd for both: he slept + Dreaming of both; nor was his love the less + Because it was divided, and shot forth + Boughs on each side, laden with wholesome shade, + Wherein we rested sleeping or awake, + And sung aloud the matin-song of life. + + She was my foster-sister: on one arm + The flaxen ringlets of our infancies + Wander'd, the while we rested: one soft lap + Pillow'd us both: one common light of eyes + Was on us as we lay: our baby lips, + Kissing one bosom, ever drew from thence + The stream of life, one stream, one life, one blood, + One sustenance, which, still as thought grew large, + Still larger moulding all the house of thought, + Perchance assimilated all our tastes + And future fancies. 'Tis a beautiful + And pleasant meditation, what whate'er + Our general mother meant for me alone, + Our mutual mother dealt to both of us: + So what was earliest mine in earliest life, + I shared with her in whom myself remains. + As was our childhood, so our infancy, + They tell me, was a very miracle + Of fellow-feeling and communion. + They tell me that we would not be alone,-- + We cried when we were parted; when I wept, + Her smile lit up the rainbow on my tears, + Stay'd on the clouds of sorrow; that we loved + The sound of one another's voices more + Than the grey cuckoo loves his name, and learn'd + To lisp in tune together; that we slept + In the same cradle always, face to face, + Heart beating time to heart, lip pressing lip, + Folding each other, breathing on each other, + Dreaming together (dreaming of each other + They should have added) till the morning light + Sloped thro' the pines, upon the dewy pane + Falling, unseal'd our eyelids, and we woke + To gaze upon each other. If this be true, + At thought of which my whole soul languishes + And faints, and hath no pulse, no breath, as tho' + A man in some still garden should infuse + Rich attar in the bosom of the rose, + Till, drunk with its own wine and overfull + Of sweetness, and in smelling of itself, + It fall on its own thorns--if this be true-- + And that way my wish leaneth evermore + Still to believe it--'tis so sweet a thought, + Why in the utter stillness of the soul + Doth question'd memory answer not, nor tell, + Of this our earliest, our closest drawn, + Most loveliest, most delicious union? + Oh, happy, happy outset of my days! + Green springtide, April promise, glad new year + Of Being, which with earliest violets, + And lavish carol of clear-throated larks, + Fill'd all the march of life.--I will not speak of thee; + These have not seen thee, these can never know thee, + They cannot understand me. Pass on then + A term of eighteen years. Ye would but laugh + If I should tell ye how I heard in thought + Those rhymes, 'The Lion and the Unicorn' + 'The Four-and-twenty Blackbirds' 'Banbury Cross,' + 'The Gander' and 'The man of Mitylene,' + And all the quaint old scraps of ancient crones, + Which are as gems set in my memory, + Because she learn'd them with me. Or what profits it + To tell ye that her father died, just ere + The daffodil was blown; or how we found + The drowned seaman on the shore? These things + Unto the quiet daylight of your minds + Are cloud and smoke, but in the dark of mine + Show traced with flame. Move with me to that hour, + Which was the hinge on which the door of Hope, + Once turning, open'd far into the outward, + And never closed again. + + I well remember, + It was a glorious morning, such a one + As dawns but once a season. Mercury + On such a morning would have flung himself + From cloud to cloud, and swum with balanced wings + To some tall mountain. On that day the year + First felt his youth and strength, and from his spring + Moved smiling toward his summer. On that day, + Love working shook his wings (that charged the winds + With spiced May-sweets from bound to bound) and blew + Fresh fire into the sun, and from within + Burst thro' the heated buds, and sent his soul + Into the songs of birds, and touch'd far-off + His mountain-altars, his high hills, with flame + Milder and purer. Up the rocks we wound; + The great pine shook with lovely sounds of joy, + That came on the sea-wind. As mountain brooks + Our blood ran free: the sunshine seem'd to brood + More warmly on the heart than on the brow. + We often paused, and looking back, we saw + The clefts and openings in the hills all fill'd + With the blue valley and the glistening brooks, + And with the low dark groves--a land of Love; + Where Love was worshipp'd upon every height, + Where Love was worshipp'd under every tree-- + A land of promise, flowing with the milk + And honey of delicious memories + Down to the sea, as far as eye could ken, + From verge to verge it was a holy land, + Still growing holier as you near'd the bay, + For where the temple stood. When we had reach'd + The grassy platform on some hill, I stoop'd, + I gather'd the wild herbs, and for her brows + And mine wove chaplets of the self-same flower, + Which she took smiling, and with my work there + Crown'd her clear forehead. Once or twice she told me + (For I remember all things), to let grow + The flowers that run poison in their veins. + She said, 'The evil flourish in the world'; + Then playfully she gave herself the lie: + 'Nothing in nature is unbeautiful, + So, brother, pluck and spare not.' So I wove + Even the dull-blooded poppy, 'whose red flower + Hued with the scarlet of a fierce sunrise, + Like to the wild youth of an evil king, + Is without sweetness, but who crowns himself + Above the secret poisons of his heart + In his old age'--a graceful thought of hers + Graven on my fancy! As I said, with these + She crown'd her forehead. O how like a nymph, + A stately mountain-nymph, she look'd! how native + Unto the hills she trod on! What an angel! + How clothed with beams! My eyes, fix'd upon hers, + Almost forgot even to move again. + My spirit leap'd as with those thrills of bliss + That shoot across the soul in prayer, and show us + That we are surely heard. Methought a light + Burst from the garland I had woven, and stood + A solid glory on her bright black hair: + A light, methought, broke from her dark, dark eyes, + And shot itself into the singing winds; + A light, methought, flash'd even from her white robe, + As from a glass in the sun, and fell about + My footsteps on the mountains. + + About sunset + We came unto the hill of woe, so call'd + Because the legend ran that, long time since, + One rainy night, when every wind blew loud, + A woful man had thrust his wife and child + With shouts from off the bridge, and following, plunged + Into the dizzy chasm below. Below, + Sheer thro' the black-wall'd cliff the rapid brook + Shot down his inner thunders, built above + With matted bramble and the shining gloss + Of ivy-leaves, whose low-hung tresses, dipp'd + In the fierce stream, bore downward with the wave. + The path was steep and loosely strewn with crags + We mounted slowly: yet to both of us + It was delight, not hindrance: unto both + Delight from hardship to be overcome, + And scorn of perilous seeming: unto me + Intense delight and rapture that I breathed, + As with a sense of nigher Deity, + With her to whom all outward fairest things + Were by the busy mind referr'd, compared, + As bearing no essential fruits of excellence. + Save as they were the types and shadowings + Of hers--and then that I became to her + A tutelary angel as she rose, + And with a fearful self-impelling joy + Saw round her feet the country far away, + Beyond the nearest mountain's bosky brows, + Burst into open prospect--heath and hill, + And hollow lined and wooded to the lips-- + And steep down walls of battlemented rock + Girded with broom or shiver'd into peaks-- + And glory of broad waters interfused, + Whence rose as it were breath and steam of gold; + And over all the great wood rioting + And climbing, starr'd at slender intervals + With blossom tufts of purest white; and last, + Framing the mighty landskip to the West, + A purple range of purple cones, between + Whose interspaces gush'd, in blinding bursts, + The incorporate light of sun and sea. + + At length, + Upon the tremulous bridge, that from beneath + Seemed with a cobweb firmament to link + The earthquake-shattered chasm, hung with shrubs, + We passed with tears of rapture. All the West, + And even unto the middle South, was ribb'd + And barr'd with bloom on bloom. The sun beneath, + Held for a space 'twixt cloud and wave, shower'd down + Rays of a mighty circle, weaving over + That varied wilderness a tissue of light + Unparallel'd. On the other side the moon, + Half-melted into thin blue air, stood still + And pale and fibrous as a wither'd leaf, + Nor yet endured in presence of his eyes + To imbue his lustre; most unloverlike; + Since in his absence full of light and joy + And giving light to others. But this chiefest, + Next to her presence whom I loved so well, + Spoke loudly, even into my inmost heart, + As to my outward hearing: the loud stream, + Forth issuing from his portals in the crag + (A visible link unto the home of my heart), + Ran amber toward the West, and nigh the sea, + Parting my own loved mountains, was received + Shorn of its strength, into the sympathy + Of that small bay, which into open main + Glow'd intermingling close beneath the sun + Spirit of Love! That little hour was bound, + Shut in from Time, and dedicate to thee; + Thy fires from heav'n had touch'd it, and the earth + They fell on became hallow'd evermore. + + We turn'd: our eyes met: her's were bright, and mine + Were dim with floating tears, that shot the sunset, + In light rings round me; and my name was borne + Upon her breath. Henceforth my name has been + A hallow'd memory, like the names of old; + A center'd, glory-circled memory, + And a peculiar treasure, brooking not + Exchange or currency; and in that hour + A hope flow'd round me, like a golden mist + Charm'd amid eddies of melodious airs, + A moment, ere the onward whirlwind shatter it, + Waver'd and floated--which was less than Hope, + Because it lack'd the power of perfect Hope; + But which was more and higher than all Hope, + Because all other Hope hath lower aim; + Even that this name to which her seraph lips + Did lend such gentle utterance, this one name + In some obscure hereafter, might inwreathe + (How lovelier, nobler then!) her life, her love, + With my life, love, soul, spirit and heart and strength. + + 'Brother,' she said, 'let this be call'd henceforth + The Hill of Hope'; and I replied: 'O sister, + My will is one with thine; the Hill of Hope.' + Nevertheless, we did not change the name. + + Love lieth deep; Love dwells not in lip-depths: + Love wraps her wings on either side the heart, + Constraining it with kisses close and warm, + Absorbing all the incense of sweet thoughts + So that they pass not to the shrine of sound. + Else had the life of that delighted hour + Drunk in the largeness of the utterance + Of Love; but how should earthly measure mete + The heavenly unmeasured or unlimited Love, + Which scarce can tune his high majestic sense + Unto the thunder-song that wheels the spheres; + Scarce living in the Aeolian harmony, + And flowing odour of the spacious air; + Scarce housed in the circle of this earth: + Be cabin'd up in words and syllables, + Which waste with the breath that made 'em. + Sooner earth + Might go round heaven, and the straight girth of Time + Inswathe the fullness of Eternity, + Than language grasp the infinite of Love. + O day, which did enwomb that happy hour, + Thou art blest in the years, divinest day! + O Genius of that hour which dost uphold + Thy coronal of glory like a God, + Amid thy melancholy mates far-seen, + Who walk before thee, and whose eyes are dim + With gazing on the light and depth of thine + Thy name is ever worshipp'd among hours! + Had I died then, I had not seem'd to die + For bliss stood round me like the lights of heaven, + That cannot fade, they are so burning bright. + Had I died then, I had not known the death; + Planting my feet against this mound of time + I had thrown me on the vast, and from this impulse + Continuing and gathering ever, ever, + Agglomerated swiftness, I had lived + That intense moment thro' eternity. + Oh, had the Power from whose right hand the light + Of Life issueth, and from whose left hand floweth + The shadow of Death, perennial effluences, + Whereof to all that draw the wholesome air, + Somewhile the one must overflow the other; + Then had he stemm'd my day with night and driven + My current to the fountain whence it sprang-- + Even his own abiding excellence-- + On me, methinks, that shock of gloom had fall'n + Unfelt, and like the sun I gazed upon, + Which, lapt in seeming dissolution, + And dipping his head low beneath the verge, + Yet bearing round about him his own day, + In confidence of unabated strength, + Steppeth from heaven to heaven, from light to light, + And holding his undimmed forehead far + Into a clearer zenith, pure of cloud; + So bearing on thro' Being limitless + The triumph of this foretaste, I had merged + Glory in glory, without sense of change. + + We trod the shadow of the downward hill; + We pass'd from light to dark. On the other side + Is scooped a cavern and a mountain-hall, + Which none have fathom'd. If you go far in + (The country people rumour) you may hear + The moaning of the woman and the child, + Shut in the secret chambers of the rock. + I too have heard a sound--perchance of streams + Running far-off within its inmost halls, + The home of darkness, but the cavern mouth, + Half overtrailed with a wanton weed + Gives birth to a brawling stream, that stepping lightly + Adown a natural stair of tangled roots, + Is presently received in a sweet grove + Of eglantine, a place of burial + Far lovelier than its cradle; for unseen + But taken with the sweetness of the place, + It giveth out a constant melody + That drowns the nearer echoes. Lower down + Spreads out a little lake, that, flooding, makes + Cushions of yellow sand; and from the woods + That belt it rise three dark tall cypresses; + Three cypresses, symbols of mortal woe, + That men plant over graves. + + Hither we came, + And sitting down upon the golden moss + Held converse sweet and low--low converse sweet, + In which our voices bore least part. The wind + Told a love-tale beside us, how he woo'd + The waters, and the crisp'd waters lisp'd + The kisses of the wind, that, sick with love, + Fainted at intervals, and grew again + To utterance of passion. Ye cannot shape + Fancy so fair as is this memory. + Methought all excellence that ever was + Had drawn herself from many thousand years, + And all the separate Edens of this earth, + To centre in this place and time. I listen'd, + And her words stole with most prevailing sweetness + Into my heart, as thronged fancies come, + All unawares, into the poet's brain; + Or as the dew-drops on the petal hung, + When summer winds break their soft sleep with sighs, + Creep down into the bottom of the flower. + Her words were like a coronal of wild blooms + Strung in the very negligence of Art, + Or in the art of Nature, where each rose + Doth faint upon the bosom of the other, + Flooding its angry cheek with odorous tears. + So each with each inwoven lived with each, + And were in union more than double-sweet. + What marvel my Camilla told me all? + It was so happy an hour, so sweet a place, + And I was as the brother of her blood, + And by that name was wont to live in her speech, + Dear name! which had too much of nearness in it + And heralded the distance of this time. + At first her voice was very sweet and low, + As tho' she were afeard of utterance; + But in the onward current of her speech, + (As echoes of the hollow-banked brooks + Are fashioned by the channel which they keep) + His words did of their meaning borrow sound, + Her cheek did catch the colour of her words, + I heard and trembled, yet I could but hear; + My heart paused,--my raised eyelids would not fall, + But still I kept my eyes upon the sky. + I seem'd the only part of Time stood still, + And saw the motion of all other things; + While her words, syllable by syllable, + Like water, drop by drop, upon my ear + Fell, and I wish'd, yet wish'd her not to speak, + But she spoke on, for I did name no wish. + What marvel my Camilla told me all + Her maiden dignities of Hope and Love, + 'Perchance' she said 'return'd.' Even then the stars + Did tremble in their stations as I gazed; + But she spake on, for I did name no wish, + No wish--no hope. Hope was not wholly dead, + But breathing hard at the approach of Death, + Updrawn in expectation of her change-- + Camilla, my Camilla, who was mine + No longer in the dearest use of mine-- + The written secrets of her inmost soul + Lay like an open scroll before my view, + And my eyes read, they read aright, her heart + Was Lionel's: it seem'd as tho' a link + Of some light chain within my inmost frame + Was riven in twain: that life I heeded not + Flow'd from me, and the darkness of the grave, + The darkness of the grave and utter night, + Did swallow up my vision: at her feet, + Even the feet of her I loved, I fell, + Smit with exceeding sorrow unto death. + + Then had the earth beneath me yawning given + Sign of convulsion; and tho' horrid rifts + Sent up the moaning of unhappy spirits + Imprison'd in her centre, with the heat + Of their infolding element; had the angels, + The watchers at heaven's gate, push'd them apart, + And from the golden threshold had down-roll'd + Their heaviest thunder, I had lain as still, + And blind and motionless as then I lay! + White as quench'd ashes, cold as were the hopes + Of my lorn love! What happy air shall woo + The wither'd leaf fall'n in the woods, or blasted + Upon this bough? a lightning stroke had come + Even from that Heaven in whose light I bloom'd + And taken away the greenness of my life, + The blossom and the fragrance. Who was cursed + But I? who miserable but I? even Misery + Forgot herself in that extreme distress, + And with the overdoing of her part + Did fall away into oblivion. + The night in pity took away my day + Because my grief as yet was newly born, + Of too weak eyes to look upon the light, + And with the hasty notice of the ear, + Frail life was startled from the tender love + Of him she brooded over. Would I had lain + Until the pleached ivy tress had wound + Round my worn limbs, and the wild briar had driven + Its knotted thorns thro' my unpaining brows + Leaning its roses on my faded eyes. + The wind had blown above me, and the rain + Had fall'n upon me, and the gilded snake + Had nestled in this bosomthrone of love, + But I had been at rest for evermore. + Long time entrancement held me: all too soon, + Life (like a wanton too-officious friend + Who will not hear denial, vain and rude + With proffer of unwished for services) + Entering all the avenues of sense, + Pass'd thro' into his citadel, the brain + With hated warmth of apprehensiveness: + And first the chillness of the mountain stream + Smote on my brow, and then I seem'd to hear + Its murmur, as the drowning seaman hears, + Who with his head below the surface dropt, + Listens the dreadful murmur indistinct + Of the confused seas, and knoweth not + Beyond the sound he lists: and then came in + O'erhead the white light of the weary moon, + Diffused and molten into flaky cloud. + Was my sight drunk, that it did shape to me + Him who should own that name? or had my fancy + So lethargised discernment in the sense, + That she did act the step-dame to mine eyes, + Warping their nature, till they minister'd + Unto her swift conceits? 'Twere better thus + If so be that the memory of that sound + With mighty evocation, had updrawn + The fashion and the phantasm of the form + It should attach to. There was no such thing.-- + It was the man she loved, even Lionel, + The lover Lionel, the happy Lionel, + All joy; who drew the happy atmosphere + Of my unhappy sighs, fed with my tears, + To him the honey dews of orient hope. + Oh! rather had some loathly ghastful brow, + Half-bursten from the shroud, in cere cloth bound, + The dead skin withering on the fretted bone, + The very spirit of Paleness made still paler + By the shuddering moonlight, fix'd his eyes on mine + Horrible with the anger and the heat + Of the remorseful soul alive within, + And damn'd unto his loathed tenement. + Methinks I could have sooner met that gaze! + Oh, how her choice did leap forth from his eyes! + Oh, how her love did clothe itself in smiles + About his lips! This was the very arch-mock + And insolence of uncontrolled Fate, + When the effect weigh'd seas upon my head + To twit me with the cause. + Why how was this? + Could he not walk what paths he chose, nor breathe + What airs he pleased! Was not the wide world free, + With all her interchange of hill and plain + To him as well as me? I know not, faith: + But Misery, like a fretful, wayward child, + Refused to look his author in the face, + Must he come my way too? Was not the South, + The East, the West, all open, if he had fall'n + In love in twilight? Why should he come my way, + Robed in those robes of light I must not wear, + With that great crown of beams about his brows? + Come like an angel to a damned soul? + To tell him of the bliss he had with God; + Come like a careless and a greedy heir, + That scarce can wait the reading of the will + Before he takes possession? Was mine a mood + To be invaded rudely, and not rather + A sacred, secret, unapproached woe + Unspeakable? I was shut up with grief; + She took the body of my past delight, + Narded, and swathed and balm'd it for herself, + And laid it in a new-hewn sepulchre, + Where man had never lain. I was led mute + Into her temple like a sacrifice; + I was the high-priest in her holiest place, + Not to be loudly broken in upon. + Oh! friend, thoughts deep and heavy as these well-nigh + O'erbore the limits of my brain; but he + Bent o'er me, and my neck his arm upstay'd + From earth. I thought it was an adder's fold, + And once I strove to disengage myself, + But fail'd, I was so feeble. She was there too: + She bent above me too: her cheek was pale, + Oh! very fair and pale: rare pity had stolen + The living bloom away, as tho' a red rose + Should change into a white one suddenly. + Her eyes, I saw, were full of tears in the morn, + And some few drops of that distressful rain + Being wafted on the wind, drove in my sight, + And being there they did break forth afresh + In a new birth, immingled with my own, + And still bewept my grief. Keeping unchanged + The purport of their coinage. Her long ringlets, + Drooping and beaten with the plaining wind, + Did brush my forehead in their to-and-fro: + For in the sudden anguish of her heart + Loosed from their simple thrall they had flowed abroad, + And onward floating in a full, dark wave, + Parted on either side her argent neck, + Mantling her form half way. She, when I woke, + After my refluent health made tender quest + Unanswer'd, for I spoke not: for the sound + Of that dear voice so musically low, + And now first heard with any sense of pain, + As it had taken life away before, + Choked all the syllables that in my throat + Strove to uprise, laden with mournful thanks, + From my full heart: and ever since that hour, + My voice hath somewhat falter'd--and what wonder + That when hope died, part of her eloquence + Died with her? He, the blissful lover, too, + From his great hoard of happiness distill'd + Some drops of solace; like a vain rich man, + That, having always prosper'd in the world, + Folding his hands deals comfortable words + To hearts wounded for ever; yet, in truth, + Fair speech was his and delicate of phrase, + Falling in whispers on the sense, address'd + More to the inward than the outward ear, + As rain of the midsummer midnight soft + Scarce-heard, recalling fragrance and the green + Of the dead spring--such as in other minds + Had film'd the margents of the recent wound. + And why was I to darken their pure love, + If, as I knew, they two did love each other, + Because my own was darken'd? Why was I + To stand within the level of their hopes, + Because my hope was widow'd, like the cur + In the child's adage? Did I love Camilla? + Ye know that I did love her: to this present + My full-orb'd love hath waned not. Did I love her, + And could I look upon her tearful eyes? + Tears wept for me; for me--weep at my grief? + What had _she_ done to weep--let my heart + Break rather--whom the gentlest airs of heaven + Should kiss with an unwonted gentleness. + Her love did murder mine; what then? she deem'd + I wore a brother's mind: she call'd me brother: + She told me all her love: she shall not weep. + + The brightness of a burning thought awhile + Battailing with the glooms of my dark will, + Moonlike emerged, lit up unto itself, + Upon the depths of an unfathom'd woe, + Reflex of action, starting up at once, + As men do from a vague and horrid dream, + And throwing by all consciousness of self, + In eager haste I shook him by the hand; + Then flinging myself down upon my knees + Even where the grass was warm where I had lain, + I pray'd aloud to God that he would hold + The hand of blessing over Lionel, + And her whom he would make his wedded wife, + Camilla! May their days be golden days, + And their long life a dream of linked love, + From which may rude Death never startle them, + But grow upon them like a glorious vision + Of unconceived and awful happiness, + Solemn but splendid, full of shapes and sounds, + Swallowing its precedent in victory. + Let them so love that men and boys may say, + Lo! how they love each other! till their love + Shall ripen to a proverb unto all, + Known when their faces are forgot in the land. + And as for me, Camilla, as for me, + Think not thy tears will make my name grow green,-- + The dew of tears is an unwholesome dew. + The course of Hope is dried,--the life o' the plant-- + They will but sicken the sick plant more. + Deem then I love thee but as brothers do, + So shalt thou love me still as sisters do; + Or if thou dream'st aught farther, dream but how + I could have loved thee, had there been none else + To love as lovers, loved again by thee. + + Or this, or somewhat like to this, I spoke, + When I did see her weep so ruefully; + For sure my love should ne'er induce the front + And mask of Hate, whom woful ailments + Of unavailing tears and heart deep moans + Feed and envenom, as the milky blood + Of hateful herbs a subtle-fanged snake. + Shall Love pledge Hatred in her bitter draughts, + And batten on his poisons? Love forbid! + Love passeth not the threshold of cold Hate, + And Hate is strange beneath the roof of Love. + O Love, if thou be'st Love, dry up these tears + Shed for the love of Love; for tho' mine image, + The subject of thy power, be cold in her, + Yet, like cold snow, it melteth in the source + Of these sad tears, and feeds their downward flow. + So Love, arraign'd to judgment and to death, + Received unto himself a part of blame. + Being guiltless, as an innocent prisoner, + Who when the woful sentence hath been past, + And all the clearness of his fame hath gone + Beneath the shadow of the curse of men, + First falls asleep in swoon. Wherefrom awaked + And looking round upon his tearful friends, + Forthwith and in his agony conceives + A shameful sense as of a cleaving crime-- + For whence without some guilt should such grief be? + So died that hour, and fell into the abysm + Of forms outworn, but not to be outworn, + Who never hail'd another worth the Life + That made it sensible. So died that hour, + Like odour wrapt into the winged wind + Borne into alien lands and far away. + There be some hearts so airy-fashioned, + That in the death of love, if e'er they loved, + On that sharp ridge of utmost doom ride highly + Above the perilous seas of change and chance; + Nay, more, holds out the lights of cheerfulness; + As the tall ship, that many a dreary year + Knit to some dismal sandbank far at sea, + All through the lifelong hours of utter dark, + Showers slanting light upon the dolorous wave. + For me all other Hopes did sway from that + Which hung the frailest: falling, they fell too, + Crush'd link on link into the beaten earth, + And Love did walk with banish'd Hope no more, + It was ill-done to part ye, Sisters fair; + Love's arms were wreathed about the neck of Hope, + And Hope kiss'd Love, and Love drew in her breath + In that close kiss, and drank her whisper'd tales. + They said that Love would die when Hope was gone, + And Love mourned long, and sorrowed after Hope; + At last she sought out memory, and they trod + The same old paths where Love had walked with Hope, + And Memory fed the soul of Love with tears. + + II + + From that time forth I would not see her more, + But many weary moons I lived alone-- + Alone, and in the heart of the great forest. + Sometimes upon the hills beside the sea + All day I watched the floating isles of shade, + And sometimes on the shore, upon the sands + Insensibly I drew her name, until + The meaning of the letters shot into + My brain: anon the wanton billow wash'd + Them over, till they faded like my love. + The hollow caverns heard me--the black brooks + Of the mid-forest heard me--the soft winds, + Laden with thistledown and seeds of flowers, + Paused in their course to hear me, for my voice + Was all of thee: the merry linnet knew me, + The squirrel knew me, and the dragon-fly + Shot by me like a flash of purple fire. + The rough briar tore my bleeding palms; the hemlock, + Brow high, did strike my forehead as I pas'd; + Yet trod I not the wild-flower in my path, + Nor bruised the wild-bird's egg. + Was this the end? + Why grew we then together i' the same plot? + Why fed we the same fountain? drew the same sun? + Why were our mothers branches of one stem? + Why were we one in all things, save in that + Where to have been one had been the roof and crown + Of all I hoped and fear'd? if that same nearness + Were father to this distance, and that _one_ + Vauntcourier this _double_? If affection + Living slew Love, and Sympathy hew'd out + The bosom-sepulchre of Sympathy. + + Chiefly I sought the cavern and the hill + Where last we roam'd together, for the sound + Of the loud stream was pleasant, and the wind + Came wooingly with violet smells. Sometimes + All day I sat within the cavern-mouth, + Fixing my eyes on those three cypress-cones + Which spired above the wood; and with mad hand + Tearing the bright leaves of the ivy-screen, + I cast them in the noisy brook beneath, + And watch'd them till they vanished from my sight + Beneath the bower of wreathed eglantines: + And all the fragments of the living rock, + (Huge splinters, which the sap of earliest showers, + Or moisture of the vapour, left in clinging, + When the shrill storm-blast feeds it from behind, + And scatters it before, had shatter'd from + The mountain, till they fell, and with the shock + Half dug their own graves), in mine agony, + Did I make bear of all the deep rich moss + Wherewith the dashing runnel in the spring + Had liveried them all over. In my brain + The spirit seem'd to flag from thought to thought, + Like moonlight wandering through a mist: my blood + Crept like the drains of a marsh thro' all my body; + The motions of my heart seem'd far within me, + Unfrequent, low, as tho' it told its pulses; + And yet it shook me, that my frame did shudder, + As it were drawn asunder by the rack. + But over the deep graves of Hope and Fear, + The wreck of ruin'd life and shatter'd thought, + Brooded one master-passion evermore, + Like to a low hung and a fiery sky + Above some great metropolis, earth shock'd + Hung round with ragged-rimmed burning folds, + Embathing all with wild and woful hues-- + Great hills of ruins, and collapsed masses + Of thunder-shaken columns, indistinct + And fused together in the tyrannous light. + + So gazed I on the ruins of that thought + Which was the playmate of my youth--for which + I lived and breathed: the dew, the sun, the rain, + Unto the growth of body and of mind; + The blood, the breath, the feeling and the motion, + The slope into the current of my years, + Which drove them onward--made them sensible; + The precious jewel of my honour'd life, + Erewhile close couch'd in golden happiness, + Now proved counterfeit, was shaken out, + And, trampled on, left to its own decay. + + + + +The Lover's Tale + + Sometimes I thought Camilla was no more, + Some one had told me she was dead, and ask'd me + If I would see her burial: then I seem'd + To rise, and thro' the forest-shadow borne + With more than mortal swiftness, I ran down + The sleepy sea-bank, till I came upon + The rear of a procession, curving round + The silver-sheeted bay: in front of which + Six stately virgins, all in white, upbare + A broad earth-sweeping pall of whitest lawn, + Wreathed round the bier with garlands: in the distance, + From out the yellow woods, upon the hill, + Look'd forth the summit and the pinnacles + Of a grey steeple. All the pageantry, + Save those six virgins which upheld the bier, + Were stoled from head to foot in flowing black; + One walk'd abreast with me, and veiled his brow, + And he was loud in weeping and in praise + Of the departed: a strong sympathy + Shook all my soul: I flung myself upon him + In tears and cries: I told him all my love, + How I had loved her from the first; whereat + He shrunk and howl'd, and from his brow drew back + His hand to push me from him; and the face + The very face and form of Lionel, + Flash'd through my eyes into my innermost brain, + And at his feet I seemed to faint and fall, + To fall and die away. I could not rise, + Albeit I strove to follow. They pass'd on, + The lordly Phantasms; in their floating folds + They pass'd and were no more: but I had fall'n + Prone by the dashing runnel on the grass. + + Always th' inaudible, invisible thought + Artificer and subject, lord and slave + Shaped by the audible and visible, + Moulded the audible and visible; + All crisped sounds of wave, and leaf and wind, + Flatter'd the fancy of my fading brain; + The storm-pavilion'd element, the wood, + The mountain, the three cypresses, the cave, + Were wrought into the tissue of my dream. + The moanings in the forest, the loud stream, + Awoke me not, but were a part of sleep; + And voices in the distance, calling to me, + And in my vision bidding me dream on, + Like sounds within the twilight realms of dreams, + Which wander round the bases of the hills, + And murmur in the low-dropt eaves of sleep, + But faint within the portals. Oftentimes + The vision had fair prelude, in the end + Opening on darkness, stately vestibules + To cares and shows of Death; whether the mind, + With a revenge even to itself unknown, + Made strange division of its suffering + With her, whom to have suffering view'd had been + Extremest pain; or that the clear-eyed Spirit, + Being blasted in the Present, grew at length + Prophetical and prescient of whate'er + The Future had in store; or that which most + Enchains belief, the sorrow of my spirit + Was of so wide a compass it took in + All I had loved, and my dull agony. + Ideally to her transferred, became + Anguish intolerable. + The day waned; + Alone I sat with her: about my brow + Her warm breath floated in the utterance + Of silver-chorded tones: her lips were sunder'd + With smiles of tranquil bliss, which broke in light + Like morning from her eyes--her eloquent eyes + (As I have seen them many hundred times), + Fill'd all with clear pure fire, thro' mine down rain'd + Their spirit-searching splendours. As a vision + Unto a haggard prisoner, iron-stay'd + In damp and dismal dungeons underground + Confined on points of faith, when strength is shock'd + With torment, and expectancy of worse + Upon the morrow, thro' the ragged walls, + All unawares before his half-shut eyes, + Comes in upon him in the dead of night, + And with th' excess of sweetness and of awe, + Makes the heart tremble, and the eyes run over + Upon his steely gyves; so those fair eyes + Shone on my darkness forms which ever stood + Within the magic cirque of memory, + Invisible but deathless, waiting still + The edict of the will to reassume + The semblance of those rare realities + Of which they were the mirrors. Now the light, + Which was their life, burst through the cloud of thought + Keen, irrepressible. + It was a room + Within the summer-house of which I spoke, + Hung round with paintings of the sea, and one + A vessel in mid-ocean, her heaved prow + Clambering, the mast bent, and the revin wind + In her sail roaring. From the outer day, + Betwixt the closest ivies came a broad + And solid beam of isolated light, + Crowded with driving atomies, and fell + Slanting upon that picture, from prime youth + Well-known, well-loved. She drew it long ago + Forth gazing on the waste and open sea, + One morning when the upblown billow ran + Shoreward beneath red clouds, and I had pour'd + Into the shadowing pencil's naked forms + Colour and life: it was a bond and seal + Of friendship, spoken of with tearful smiles; + A monument of childhood and of love, + The poesy of childhood; my lost love + Symbol'd in storm. We gazed on it together + In mute and glad remembrance, and each heart + Grew closer to the other, and the eye + Was riveted and charm-bound, gazing like + The Indian on a still-eyed snake, low crouch'd + A beauty which is death, when all at once + That painted vessel, as with inner life, + 'Gan rock and heave upon that painted sea; + An earthquake, my loud heartbeats, made the ground + Roll under us, and all at once soul, life, + And breath, and motion, pass'd and flow'd away + To those unreal billows: round and round + A whirlwind caught and bore us; mighty gyves, + Rapid and vast, of hissing spray wind-driven + Far through the dizzy dark. Aloud she shriek'd-- + My heart was cloven with pain. I wound my arms + About her: we whirl'd giddily: the wind + Sung: but I clasp'd her without fear: her weight + Shrank in my grasp, and over my dim eyes + And parted lips which drank her breath, down hung + The jaws of Death: I, screaming, from me flung + The empty phantom: all the sway and whirl + Of the storm dropt to windless calm, and I + Down welter'd thro' the dark ever and ever. + + + + +Index to First Lines + + +A gate and a field half ploughed +All thoughts, all creeds, all dreams, are true +Angels have talked with him and showed him thrones +As when a man, that sails in a balloon +Blow ye the trumpets, gather from afar +But she tarries in her place +Check every outflash, every ruder sally +Could I outwear my present state of woe +Ere yet my heart was sweet Love's tomb +Every day hath its night +First drink a health, this solemn night +God bless our Prince and Bride +Heaven weeps above the earth all night +Here far away, seen from the topmost cliff +His eyes in eclipse +Home they brought him slain with spears +How much I love this writer's manly style +How often, when a child I lay reclined +I am any man's suitor +I stood on a tower in the wet +I stood upon the Mountain which o'erlooks +I' the glooming light +Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh +My Rosalind, my Rosalind +O darling room, my heart's delight +Oh, Beauty, passing beauty! sweetest sweet! +Oh, go not yet, my love +O maiden fresher than the first green leaf +O sad _No more_! O sweet _No more_ +O thou whose fringèd lids I gaze upon +Rise, Britons, rise, if manhood be not dead +Sainted Juliet! dearest name +Shall the hag Evil die with the child of Good +Sure never yet was Antelope +The lintwhite and the throstlecock +The Northwind fall'n in the new starréd night +The pallid thunderstricken sigh for gain +There are three things that fill my heart with sighs +Therefore your halls, your ancient colleges +There is no land like England +The varied earth, the moving heaven +Thou, from the first, unborn, undying love +Though Night hath climbed her peak +Two bees within a chrystal flowerbell rockèd +Voice of the summerwind +We have had enough of motion +We know him, out of Shakespeare's art +What time I wasted youthful hours +Where is the Giant of the Sun, which stood +Who can say +Who fears to die? Who fears to die +With roses musky breathed +You cast to ground the hope which once was mine +You did late review my lays +Your ringlets, your ringlets + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Suppressed Poems of Alfred Lord +Tennyson, by Alfred Lord Tennyson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS TENNYSON *** + +***** This file should be named 14094-8.txt or 14094-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/0/9/14094/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Cori Samuel and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thomson. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + } + HR { width: 60%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + .section {width: 35%;} + + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* footnote */ + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 1em; font-size: smaller; float: right; clear: right;} + .greek {cursor: help;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .title {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em; font-weight: bold;} + .poem .heading {font-weight: bold;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem .line {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem .line2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem .line3 {display: block; margin-left: 3em;} + .poem .line4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .poem .line5 {display: block; margin-left: 5em;} + .poem .line6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em;} + .poem .line8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em;} + .poem .line9 {display: block; margin-left: 9em;} + .poem .line10 {display: block; margin-left: 10em;} + .poem .line12 {display: block; margin-left: 12em;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Suppressed Poems of Alfred Lord Tennyson +by Alfred Lord Tennyson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Suppressed Poems of Alfred Lord Tennyson + +Author: Alfred Lord Tennyson + +Release Date: November 19, 2004 [EBook #14094] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS TENNYSON *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Cori Samuel and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + +<p><a name='Page_1'></a><a name='Page_2'></a><a name='Page_3'></a></p> + +<h1>THE SUPPRESSED POEMS</h1> +<h2>OF</h2> +<h1>ALFRED LORD TENNYSON</h1> +<h2>1830-1868</h2> +<h3>EDITED BY J.C. THOMSON</h3> + + +<p> <a name='Page_4'></a> +<b>Contents</b> +<a name='Page_5'></a></p> +<ul> + <li><a href='#Page_8'>EDITOR'S NOTE</a><br /> </li> + <li><a href='#Page_9'>TIMBUCTOO</a><br /> </li> + <li><a href='#Page_21'>POEMS CHIEFLY LYRICAL</a> + <ul> + <li><a href='#Page_23'>i. The How and the Why</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_25'>ii. The Burial of Love</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_27'>iii. To ——</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_28'>iv. Song <i>'I' the gloaming light'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_29'>v. Song <i>'Every day hath its night'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_31'>vi. Hero to Leander</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_33'>vii. The Mystic</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_35'>viii. The Grasshopper</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_37'>ix. Love, Pride and Forgetfulness</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_38'>x. Chorus <i>'The varied earth, the moving heaven'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_40'>xi. Lost Hope</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_41'>xii. The Tears of Heaven</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_42'>xiii. Love and Sorrow</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_43'>xiv. To a Lady sleeping</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_44'>xv. Sonnet <i>'Could I outwear my present state of woe'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_45'>xvi. Sonnet <i>'Though night hath climbed'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_46'>xvii. Sonnet <i>'Shall the hag Evil die'</i></a></li> + <li><a name='Page_6'></a><a href='#Page_47'>xviii. Sonnet <i>'The pallid thunder stricken sigh for gain'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_48'>xix. Love</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_50'>xx. English War Song</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_52'>xxi. National Song</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_54'>xxii. Dualisms</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_55'>xxiii. <span class="greek" title="[Greek: ohi rheontes]">οἱ ρἑοντες</span></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_56'>xxiv. Song <i>'The lintwhite and the throstlecock'</i></a><br /> </li> + </ul> + </li> + <li><a href='#Page_59'>CONTRIBUTIONS TO PERIODICALS, 1831-32</a> + <ul> + <li><a href='#Page_61'>xxv. A Fragment</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_63'>xxvi. Anacreontics</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_64'>xxvii. <i>'O sad no more! O sweet no more'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_65'>xxviii. Sonnet <i>'Check every outflash, every ruder sally'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_66'>xxix. Sonnet <i>'Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_67'>xxx. Sonnet <i>'There are three things that fill my heart with sighs'</i></a><br /> </li> + </ul> + </li> + <li><a href='#Page_69'>POEMS, 1833</a> + <ul> + <li><a href='#Page_71'>xxxi. Sonnet <i>'Oh beauty, passing beauty'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_72'>xxxii. The Hesperides</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_77'>xxxiii. Rosalind</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_79'>xxxiv. Song <i>'Who can say'</i></a></li> + <li><a name='Page_7'></a><a href='#Page_80'>xxxv. Sonnet <i>'Blow ye the trumpet, gather from afar'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_81'>xxxvi. O Darling Room</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_82'>xxxvii. To Christopher North</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_83'>xxxviii. The Lotos-Eaters</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_85'>xxxix. A Dream of Fair Women</a><br /> </li> + </ul> + </li> + <li><a href='#Page_87'>MISCELLANEOUS POEMS AND CONTRIBUTIONS TO PERIODICALS, 1833-68</a> + <ul> + <li><a href='#Page_89'>xl. Cambridge</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_90'>xli. The Germ of 'Maud'</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_92'>xlii. <i>'A gate and afield half ploughed'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_93'>xliii. The Skipping-Rope</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_94'>xliv. The New Timon and the Poets</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_97'>xlv. Mablethorpe</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_98'>xlvi. <i>'What time I wasted youthful hours'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_99'>xlvii. Britons, guard your own</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_102'>xlviii. Hands all round</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_105'>xlix. Suggested by reading an article in a newspaper</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_110'>l. <i>'God bless our Prince and Bride'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_111'>li. The Ringlet</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_114'>lii. Song <i>'Home they brought him slain with spears'</i></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_115'>liii. 1865-1866</a><br /> </li> + </ul> + </li> + <li><a href='#Page_117'>THE LOVER'S TALE, 1833</a><br /> </li> + <li><a href='#Page_159'>INDEX OF FIRST LINES</a></li> +</ul> + +<hr class='section' /> + +<p><a name='Page_8'></a><b><i>Note</i></b></p> + +<p><i>To those unacquainted with Tennyson's conscientious methods, it may +seem strange that a volume of 160 pages is necessary to contain those +poems written and published by him during his active literary career, +and ultimately rejected as unsatisfactory. Of this considerable body +of verse, a great part was written, not in youth or old age, but while +Tennyson's powers were at their greatest. Whatever reasons may once +have existed for suppressing the poems that follow, the student of +English literature is entitled to demand that the whole body of +Tennyson's work should now be open, without restriction or impediment, +to the critical study to which the works of his compeers are +subjected.</i></p> + +<p><i>The bibliographical notes prefixed to the various poems give, in every +case, the date and medium of first publication.</i></p> + +<p><i>J.C.T.</i></p> + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2>Timbuctoo</h2> + +<p> +<a name='Page_9'></a> +A POEM<br /> +WHICH OBTAINED<br /> +THE CHANCELLOR'S MEDAL<br /> +AT THE<br /> +<i>Cambridge Commencement</i><br /> +<br /> +MDCCCXXIX<br /> +<br /> +BY<br /> +A. TENNYSON<br /> +<br /> +Of Trinity College<br /> +</p> + +<p><a name='Page_10'></a>[Printed in Cambridge <i>Chronicle and Journal</i> of Friday, July 10, +1829, and at the University Press by James Smith, among the +<i>Prolusiones Academicæ Præmiis annuis dignatæ et in Curia +Cantabrigiensi Recitatæ Comitiis Maximis</i>, MDCCCXXIX. Republished in +<i>Cambridge Prize Poems</i>, 1813 to 1858, by Messrs. Macmillan in 1859, +without alteration; and in 1893 in the appendix to a reprint of <i>Poems +by Two Brothers</i>].</p> + +<p><a name='Page_11'></a><br /></p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Timbuctoo</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line2'>Deep in that lion-haunted inland lies</div> + <div class='line2'>A mystic city, goal of high Emprize.<a name='FNanchor_A_1'></a><a href='#Footnote_A_1'><sup>[A]</sup></a></div> + <div class='line2'>—CHAPMAN.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>I stood upon the Mountain which o'erlooks</div> + <div class='line'>The narrow seas, whose rapid interval</div> + <div class='line'>Parts Afric from green Europe, when the Sun</div> + <div class='line'>Had fall'n below th' Atlantick, and above</div> + <div class='line'>The silent Heavens were blench'd with faery light,</div> + <div class='line'>Uncertain whether faery light or cloud,</div> + <div class='line'>Flowing Southward, and the chasms of deep, deep blue</div> + <div class='line'>Slumber'd unfathomable, and the stars</div> + <div class='line'>Were flooded over with clear glory and pale.</div> + <div class='line'>I gaz'd upon the sheeny coast beyond,</div> + <div class='line'>There where the Giant of old Time infixed</div> + <div class='line'>The limits of his prowess, pillars high</div> + <div class='line'>Long time eras'd from Earth: even as the sea</div> + <div class='line'>When weary of wild inroad buildeth up</div> + <div class='line'>Huge mounds whereby to stay his yeasty waves.</div> + <div class='line'>And much I mus'd on legends quaint and old</div> + <div class='line'>Which whilome won the hearts of all on Earth</div><a name='Page_12'></a> + <div class='line'>Toward their brightness, ev'n as flame draws air;</div> + <div class='line'>But had their being in the heart of Man</div> + <div class='line'>As air is th' life of flame: and thou wert then</div> + <div class='line'>A center'd glory-circled Memory,</div> + <div class='line'>Divinest Atalantis, whom the waves</div> + <div class='line'>Have buried deep, and thou of later name</div> + <div class='line'>Imperial Eldorado root'd with gold:</div> + <div class='line'>Shadows to which, despite all shocks of Change,</div> + <div class='line'>All on-set of capricious Accident,</div> + <div class='line'>Men clung with yearning Hope which would not die.</div> + <div class='line'>As when in some great City where the walls</div> + <div class='line'>Shake, and the streets with ghastly faces throng'd</div> + <div class='line'>Do utter forth a subterranean voice,</div> + <div class='line'>Among the inner columns far retir'd</div> + <div class='line'>At midnight, in the lone Acropolis.</div> + <div class='line'>Before the awful Genius of the place</div> + <div class='line'>Kneels the pale Priestess in deep faith, the while</div> + <div class='line'>Above her head the weak lamp dips and winks</div> + <div class='line'>Unto the fearful summoning without:</div> + <div class='line'>Nathless she ever clasps the marble knees,</div> + <div class='line'>Bathes the cold hand with tears, and gazeth on</div> + <div class='line'>Those eyes which wear no light but that wherewith</div> + <div class='line'>Her phantasy informs them.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line10'>Where are ye</div> + <div class='line'>Thrones of the Western wave, fair Islands green?</div> + <div class='line'>Where are your moonlight halls, your cedarn glooms,</div> + <div class='line'>The blossoming abysses of your hills?</div><a name='Page_13'></a> + <div class='line'>Your flowering Capes and your gold-sanded bays</div> + <div class='line'>Blown round with happy airs of odorous winds?</div> + <div class='line'>Where are the infinite ways which, Seraphtrod,</div> + <div class='line'>Wound thro' your great Elysian solitudes,</div> + <div class='line'>Whose lowest depths were, as with visible love,</div> + <div class='line'>Fill'd with Divine effulgence, circumfus'd,</div> + <div class='line'>Flowing between the clear and polish'd stems,</div> + <div class='line'>And ever circling round their emerald cones</div> + <div class='line'>In coronals and glories, such as gird</div> + <div class='line'>The unfading foreheads of the Saints in Heaven?</div> + <div class='line'>For nothing visible, they say, had birth</div> + <div class='line'>In that blest ground but it was play'd about</div> + <div class='line'>With its peculiar glory. Then I rais'd</div> + <div class='line'>My voice and cried 'Wide Afric, doth thy Sun</div> + <div class='line'>Lighten, thy hills enfold a City as fair</div> + <div class='line'>As those which starr'd the night o' the Elder World?</div> + <div class='line'>Or is the rumour of thy Timbuctoo</div> + <div class='line'>A dream as frail as those of ancient Time?'</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>A curve of whitening, flashing, ebbing light!</div> + <div class='line'>A rustling of white wings! The bright descent</div> + <div class='line'>Of a young Seraph! and he stood beside me</div> + <div class='line'>There on the ridge, and look'd into my face</div> + <div class='line'>With his unutterable, shining orbs,</div> + <div class='line'>So that with hasty motion I did veil</div> + <div class='line'>My vision with both hands, and saw before me</div> + <div class='line'>Such colour'd spots as dance athwart the eyes</div> + <div class='line'>Of those that gaze upon the noonday Sun.</div> + <div class='line'>Girt with a Zone of flashing gold beneath</div> + <div class='line'>His breast, and compass'd round about his brow</div> + <div class='line'>With triple arch of everchanging bows,</div><a name='Page_14'></a> + <div class='line'>And circled with the glory of living light</div> + <div class='line'>And alternations of all hues, he stood.</div> + <div class='line'>'O child of man, why muse you here alone</div> + <div class='line'>Upon the Mountain, on the dreams of old</div> + <div class='line'>Which fill'd the Earth with passing loveliness,</div> + <div class='line'>Which flung strange music on the howling winds,</div> + <div class='line'>And odours rapt from remote Paradise?</div> + <div class='line'>Thy sense is clogg'd with dull mortality,</div> + <div class='line'>Thy spirit fetter'd with the bond of clay:</div> + <div class='line'>Open thine eye and see.'</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line10'>I look'd, but not</div> + <div class='line'>Upon his face, for it was wonderful</div> + <div class='line'>With its exceeding brightness, and the light</div> + <div class='line'>Of the great angel mind which look'd from out</div> + <div class='line'>The starry glowing of his restless eyes.</div> + <div class='line'>I felt my soul grow mighty, and my spirit</div> + <div class='line'>With supernatural excitation bound</div> + <div class='line'>Within me, and my mental eye grew large</div> + <div class='line'>With such a vast circumference of thought,</div> + <div class='line'>That in my vanity I seem'd to stand</div> + <div class='line'>Upon the outward verge and bound alone</div> + <div class='line'>Of full beatitude. Each failing sense</div> + <div class='line'>As with a momentary flash of light</div> + <div class='line'>Grew thrillingly distinct and keen. I saw</div> + <div class='line'>The smallest grain that dappled the dark Earth,</div> + <div class='line'>The indistinctest atom in deep air,</div> + <div class='line'>The Moon's white cities, and the opal width</div> + <div class='line'>Of her small glowing lakes, her silver heights</div> + <div class='line'>Unvisited with dew of vagrant cloud,</div> + <div class='line'>And the unsounded, undescended depth</div><a name='Page_15'></a> + <div class='line'>Of her black hollows. The clear Galaxy</div> + <div class='line'>Shorn of its hoary lustre, wonderful,</div> + <div class='line'>Distinct and vivid with sharp points of light</div> + <div class='line'>Blaze within blaze, an unimagin'd depth</div> + <div class='line'>And harmony of planet-girded Suns</div> + <div class='line'>And moon-encircled planets, wheel in wheel,</div> + <div class='line'>Arch'd the wan Sapphire. Nay, the hum of men,</div> + <div class='line'>Or other things talking in unknown tongues,</div> + <div class='line'>And notes of busy life in distant worlds</div> + <div class='line'>Beat like a far wave on my anxious ear.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>A maze of piercing, trackless, thrilling thoughts</div> + <div class='line'>Involving and embracing each with each</div> + <div class='line'>Rapid as fire, inextricably link'd,</div> + <div class='line'>Expanding momently with every sight</div> + <div class='line'>And sound which struck the palpitating sense,</div> + <div class='line'>The issue of strong impulse, hurried through</div> + <div class='line'>The riv'n rapt brain: as when in some large lake</div> + <div class='line'>From pressure of descendant crags, which lapse</div> + <div class='line'>Disjointed, crumbling from their parent slope</div> + <div class='line'>At slender interval, the level calm</div> + <div class='line'>Is ridg'd with restless and increasing spheres</div> + <div class='line'>Which break upon each other, each th' effect</div> + <div class='line'>Of separate impulse, but more fleet and strong</div> + <div class='line'>Than its precursor, till the eyes in vain</div> + <div class='line'>Amid the wild unrest of swimming shade</div> + <div class='line'>Dappled with hollow and alternate rise</div> + <div class='line'>Of interpenetrated arc, would scan</div> + <div class='line'>Definite round.</div> + <div class='line8'>I know not if I shape</div> + <div class='line'>These things with accurate similitude</div><a name='Page_16'></a> + <div class='line'>From visible objects, for but dimly now,</div> + <div class='line'>Less vivid than a half-forgotten dream,</div> + <div class='line'>The memory of that mental excellence</div> + <div class='line'>Comes o'er me, and it may be I entwine</div> + <div class='line'>The indecision of my present mind</div> + <div class='line'>With its past clearness, yet it seems to me</div> + <div class='line'>As even then the torrent of quick thought</div> + <div class='line'>Absorbed me from the nature of itself</div> + <div class='line'>With its own fleetness. Where is he that, borne</div> + <div class='line'>Adown the sloping of an arrowy stream,</div> + <div class='line'>Could link his shallop to the fleeting edge,</div> + <div class='line'>And muse midway with philosophic calm</div> + <div class='line'>Upon the wondrous laws which regulate</div> + <div class='line'>The fierceness of the bounding element?</div> + <div class='line'>My thoughts which long had grovell'd in the slime</div> + <div class='line'>Of this dull world, like dusky worms which house</div> + <div class='line'>Beneath unshaken waters, but at once</div> + <div class='line'>Upon some earth-awakening day of spring</div> + <div class='line'>Do pass from gloom to glory, and aloft</div> + <div class='line'>Winnow the purple, bearing on both sides</div> + <div class='line'>Double display of starlit wings which burn</div> + <div class='line'>Fanlike and fibred, with intensest bloom:</div> + <div class='line'>E'en so my thoughts, erewhile so low, now felt</div> + <div class='line'>Unutterable buoyancy and strength</div> + <div class='line'>To bear them upward through the trackless fields</div> + <div class='line'>Of undefin'd existence far and free.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Then first within the South methought I saw</div> + <div class='line'>A wilderness of spires, and chrystal pile</div> + <div class='line'>Of rampart upon rampart, dome on dome,</div> + <div class='line'>Illimitable range of battlement</div><a name='Page_17'></a> + <div class='line'>On battlement, and the Imperial height</div> + <div class='line'>Of Canopy o'ercanopied.</div> + <div class='line12'>Behind,</div> + <div class='line'>In diamond light, upsprung the dazzling Cones</div> + <div class='line'>Of Pyramids, as far surpassing Earth's</div> + <div class='line'>As Heaven than Earth is fairer. Each aloft</div> + <div class='line'>Upon his renown'd Eminence bore globes</div> + <div class='line'>Of wheeling suns, or stars, or semblances</div> + <div class='line'>Of either, showering circular abyss</div> + <div class='line'>Of radiance. But the glory of the place</div> + <div class='line'>Stood out a pillar'd front of burnish'd gold</div> + <div class='line'>Interminably high, if gold it were</div> + <div class='line'>Or metal more ethereal, and beneath</div> + <div class='line'>Two doors of blinding brilliance, where no gaze</div> + <div class='line'>Might rest, stood open, and the eye could scan</div> + <div class='line'>Through length of porch and lake and boundless hall,</div> + <div class='line'>Part of a throne of fiery flame, wherefrom</div> + <div class='line'>The snowy skirting of a garment hung,</div> + <div class='line'>And glimpse of multitudes of multitudes</div> + <div class='line'>That minister'd around it—if I saw</div> + <div class='line'>These things distinctly, for my human brain</div> + <div class='line'>Stagger'd beneath the vision, and thick night</div> + <div class='line'>Came down upon my eyelids, and I fell.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>With ministering hand he rais'd me up;</div> + <div class='line'>Then with a mournful and ineffable smile,</div> + <div class='line'>Which but to look on for a moment fill'd</div> + <div class='line'>My eyes with irresistible sweet tears,</div> + <div class='line'>In accents of majestic melody,</div> + <div class='line'>Like a swol'n river's gushings in still night</div><a name='Page_18'></a> + <div class='line'>Mingled with floating music, thus he spake:</div> + <div class='line'>'There is no mightier Spirit than I to sway</div> + <div class='line'>The heart of man: and teach him to attain</div> + <div class='line'>By shadowing forth the Unattainable;</div> + <div class='line'>And step by step to scale that mighty stair</div> + <div class='line'>Whose landing-place is wrapt about with clouds</div> + <div class='line'>Of glory of Heaven.<a name='FNanchor_B_2'></a><a href='#Footnote_B_2'><sup>[B]</sup></a> With earliest Light of Spring,</div> + <div class='line'>And in the glow of sallow Summertide,</div> + <div class='line'>And in red Autumn when the winds are wild</div> + <div class='line'>With gambols, and when full-voiced Winter roofs</div> + <div class='line'>The headland with inviolate white snow,</div> + <div class='line'>I play about his heart a thousand ways,</div> + <div class='line'>Visit his eyes with visions, and his ears</div> + <div class='line'>With harmonies of wind and wave and wood</div> + <div class='line'>—Of winds which tell of waters, and of waters</div> + <div class='line'>Betraying the close kisses of the wind—</div> + <div class='line'>And win him unto me: and few there be</div> + <div class='line'>So gross of heart who have not felt and known</div> + <div class='line'>A higher than they see: They with dim eyes</div> + <div class='line'>Behold me darkling. Lo! I have given <i>thee</i></div> + <div class='line'>To understand my presence, and to feel</div> + <div class='line'>My fullness; I have fill'd thy lips with power.</div> + <div class='line'>I have rais'd thee higher to the Spheres of Heaven,</div> + <div class='line'>Man's first, last home: and thou with ravish'd sense</div> + <div class='line'>Listenest the lordly music flowing from</div> + <div class='line'>Th' illimitable years. I am the Spirit,</div><a name='Page_19'></a> + <div class='line'>The permeating life which courseth through</div> + <div class='line'>All th' intricate and labyrinthine veins</div> + <div class='line'>Of the great vine of <i>Fable</i>, which, outspread</div> + <div class='line'>With growth of shadowing leaf and clusters rare,</div> + <div class='line'>Reacheth to every corner under Heaven,</div> + <div class='line'>Deep-rooted in the living soil of truth:</div> + <div class='line'>So that men's hopes and fears take refuge in</div> + <div class='line'>The fragrance of its complicated glooms</div> + <div class='line'>And cool impleachèd twilights. Child of Man,</div> + <div class='line'>See'st thou yon river, whose translucent wave,</div> + <div class='line'>Forth issuing from darkness, windeth through</div> + <div class='line'>The argent streets o' the City, imaging</div> + <div class='line'>The soft inversion of her tremulous Domes;</div> + <div class='line'>Her gardens frequent with the stately Palm,</div> + <div class='line'>Her Pagods hung with music of sweet bells:</div> + <div class='line'>Her obelisks of rangèd Chrysolite,</div> + <div class='line'>Minarets and towers? Lo! how he passeth by,</div> + <div class='line'>And gulphs himself in sands, as not enduring</div> + <div class='line'>To carry through the world those waves, which bore</div> + <div class='line'>The reflex of my City in their depths.</div> + <div class='line'>Oh City! Oh latest Throne! where I was rais'd</div> + <div class='line'>To be a mystery of loveliness</div> + <div class='line'>Unto all eyes, the time is well nigh come</div> + <div class='line'>When I must render up this glorious home</div> + <div class='line'>To keen <i>Discovery</i>: soon yon brilliant towers</div> + <div class='line'>Shall darken with the waving of her wand;</div> + <div class='line'>Darken, and shrink and shiver into huts,</div> + <div class='line'>Black specks amid a waste of dreary sand,</div> + <div class='line'>Low-built, mud-walled, Barbarian settlement,</div> + <div class='line'>How chang'd from this fair City!'</div> + <div class='line10'>Thus far the Spirit:<a name='Page_20'></a></div> + <div class='line'>Then parted Heavenward on the wing: and I</div> + <div class='line'>Was left alone on Calpe, and the Moon</div> + <div class='line'>Had fallen from the night, and all was dark!</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<p>[The following review of 'Timbuctoo' was published in the <i>Athenæum</i> +of 22nd July, 1829: 'We have accustomed ourselves to think, perhaps +without any very good reason, that poetry was likely to perish among +us for a considerable period after the great generation of poets which +is now passing away. The age seems determined to contradict us, and +that in the most decided manner; for it has put forth poetry by a +young man, and that where we should least expect it—namely, in a +prize poem. These productions have often been ingenious and elegant +but we have never before seen one of them which indicated really +first-rate poetical genius, and which would have done honour to any +men that ever wrote. Such, we do not hesitate to affirm, is the little +work before us; and the examiners seem to have felt it like ourselves, +for they have assigned the prize to the author, though the measure in +which he writes was never before, we believe, thus selected for +honour. We extract a few lines to justify our admiration (50 lines, +62-112, quoted). How many men have lived for a century who could equal +this?' At the time when this highly eulogistic notice of the youthful +unknown poet appeared, the <i>Athenæum</i> was edited by John Sterling and +Frederick Denison Maurice, its then proprietors.]</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><a name='Page_21'></a>Poems Chiefly Lyrical</h2> + +<p><a name='Page_22'></a>[The poems numbered I-XXIV which follow, were published in 1830 in the +volume <i>Poems chiefly Lyrical</i>. (London: Effingham Wilson, Royal +Exchange, 1830.) They were never republished by Tennyson.]</p> + +<h2><a name='Page_23'></a>I</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>The 'How' and the 'Why'</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line3'>I am any man's suitor,</div> + <div class='line3'>If any will be my tutor:</div> + <div class='line'>Some say this life is pleasant,</div> + <div class='line3'>Some think it speedeth fast:</div> + <div class='line'>In time there is no present,</div> + <div class='line3'>In eternity no future,</div> + <div class='line3'>In eternity no past.</div> + <div class='line'>We laugh, we cry, we are born, we die,</div> + <div class='line'>Who will riddle me the <i>how</i> and the <i>why</i>?</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The bulrush nods unto his brother</div> + <div class='line'>The wheatears whisper to each other:</div> + <div class='line'>What is it they say? What do they there?</div> + <div class='line'>Why two and two make four? Why round is not square?</div> + <div class='line'>Why the rocks stand still, and the light clouds fly?</div> + <div class='line'>Why the heavy oak groans, and the white willows sigh?</div> + <div class='line'>Why deep is not high, and high is not deep?</div> + <div class='line'>Whether we wake or whether we sleep?</div> + <div class='line'>Whether we sleep or whether we die?</div> + <div class='line'>How you are you? Why I am I?</div> + <div class='line'>Who will riddle me the <i>how</i> and the <i>why</i>?</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The world is somewhat; it goes on somehow;</div><a name='Page_24'></a> + <div class='line'>But what is the meaning of <i>then</i> and <i>now</i>!</div> + <div class='line'>I feel there is something; but how and what?</div> + <div class='line'>I know there is somewhat; but what and why!</div> + <div class='line'>I cannot tell if that somewhat be I.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The little bird pipeth 'why! why!'</div> + <div class='line'>In the summerwoods when the sun falls low,</div> + <div class='line'>And the great bird sits on the opposite bough,</div> + <div class='line'>And stares in his face and shouts 'how? how?'</div> + <div class='line'>And the black owl scuds down the mellow twilight,</div> + <div class='line'>And chaunts 'how? how?' the whole of the night.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Why the life goes when the blood is spilt?</div> + <div class='line'>What the life is? where the soul may lie?</div> + <div class='line'>Why a church is with a steeple built;</div> + <div class='line'>And a house with a chimney-pot?</div> + <div class='line'>Who will riddle me the how and the what?</div> + <div class='line'>Who will riddle me the what and the why?</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_25'></a>II</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>The Burial of Love</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line3'>His eyes in eclipse,</div> + <div class='line3'>Pale cold his lips,</div> + <div class='line'>The light of his hopes unfed,</div> + <div class='line3'>Mute his tongue,</div> + <div class='line3'>His bow unstrung</div> + <div class='line'>With the tears he hath shed,</div> + <div class='line'>Backward drooping his graceful head.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line3'>Love is dead;</div> + <div class='line3'>His last arrow sped;</div> + <div class='line'>He hath not another dart;</div> + <div class='line3'>Go—carry him to his dark deathbed;</div> + <div class='line'>Bury him in the cold, cold heart—</div> + <div class='line3'>Love is dead.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Oh, truest love! art thou forlorn,</div> + <div class='line3'>And unrevenged? Thy pleasant wiles</div> + <div class='line'>Forgotten, and thine innocent joy?</div> + <div class='line3'>Shall hollow-hearted apathy,</div> + <div class='line'>The cruellest form of perfect scorn,</div> + <div class='line3'>With langour of most hateful smiles,</div> + <div class='line'>For ever write</div> + <div class='line'>In the weathered light</div> + <div class='line3'>Of the tearless eye</div> + <div class='line3'>An epitaph that all may spy?</div> + <div class='line3'>No! sooner she herself shall die.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>For her the showers shall not fall,</div><a name='Page_26'></a> + <div class='line'>Nor the round sun that shineth to all;</div> + <div class='line3'>Her light shall into darkness change;</div> + <div class='line'>For her the green grass shall not spring,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor the rivers flow, nor the sweet birds sing,</div> + <div class='line3'>Till Love have his full revenge.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_27'></a>III</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>To ——</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Sainted Juliet! dearest name!</div> + <div class='line3'>If to love be life alone,</div> + <div class='line4'>Divinest Juliet,</div> + <div class='line3'>I love thee, and live; and yet</div> + <div class='line'>Love unreturned is like the fragrant flame</div> + <div class='line3'>Folding the slaughter of the sacrifice</div> + <div class='line3'>Offered to Gods upon an altarthrone;</div> + <div class='line'>My heart is lighted at thine eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>Changed into fire, and blown about with sighs.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_28'></a>IV</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Song</div> + <div class='heading'>I</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line3'>I' the glooming light</div> + <div class='line3'>Of middle night,</div> + <div class='line3'>So cold and white,</div> + <div class='line'>Worn Sorrow sits by the moaning wave;</div> + <div class='line3'>Beside her are laid,</div> + <div class='line3'>Her mattock and spade,</div> + <div class='line'>For she hath half delved her own deep grave.</div> + <div class='line3'>Alone she is there:</div> + <div class='line'>The white clouds drizzle: her hair falls loose;</div> + <div class='line3'>Her shoulders are bare;</div> + <div class='line'>Her tears are mixed with the bearded dews.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line3'>Death standeth by;</div> + <div class='line3'>She will not die;</div> + <div class='line3'>With glazèd eye</div> + <div class='line'>She looks at her grave: she cannot sleep;</div> + <div class='line3'>Ever alone</div> + <div class='line3'>She maketh her moan:</div> + <div class='line'>She cannot speak; she can only weep;</div> + <div class='line3'>For she will not hope.</div> + <div class='line'>The thick snow falls on her flake by flake,</div> + <div class='line3'>The dull wave mourns down the slope,</div> + <div class='line'>The world will not change, and her heart will not break.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_29'></a>V</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Song</div> + <div class='heading'>I</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Every day hath its night:</div> + <div class='line3'>Every night its morn:</div> + <div class='line'>Through dark and bright</div> + <div class='line3'>Wingèd hours are borne;</div> + <div class='line5'>Ah! welaway!</div> + <div class='line'>Seasons flower and fade;</div> + <div class='line3'>Golden calm and storm</div> + <div class='line5'>Mingle day by day.</div> + <div class='line3'>There is no bright form</div> + <div class='line'>Doth not cast a shade—</div> + <div class='line5'>Ah! welaway!</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>When we laugh, and our mirth</div> + <div class='line3'>Apes the happy vein,</div> + <div class='line'>We're so kin to earth</div> + <div class='line3'>Pleasuance fathers pain—</div> + <div class='line5'>Ah! welaway!</div> + <div class='line'>Madness laugheth loud:</div> + <div class='line3'>Laughter bringeth tears:</div> + <div class='line5'>Eyes are worn away</div> + <div class='line3'>Till the end of fears</div> + <div class='line'>Cometh in the shroud,</div> + <div class='line5'>Ah! welaway!</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>III</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>All is change, woe or weal;</div> + <div class='line3'>Joy is sorrow's brother;</div> + <div class='line'>Grief and sadness steal</div> + <div class='line3'>Symbols of each other;</div> + <div class='line5'>Ah! welaway!</div> + <div class='line'>Larks in heaven's cope</div> + <div class='line3'>Sing: the culvers mourn</div> + <div class='line5'>All the livelong day.</div> + <div class='line3'>Be not all forlorn;</div> + <div class='line'>Let us weep in hope—</div> + <div class='line5'>Ah! welaway!</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_31'></a>VI</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Hero to Leander</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Oh go not yet, my love,</div> + <div class='line3'>The night is dark and vast;</div> + <div class='line'>The white moon is hid in her heaven above,</div> + <div class='line3'>And the waves climb high and fast.</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! kiss me, kiss me, once again,</div> + <div class='line3'>Lest thy kiss should be the last.</div> + <div class='line3'>Oh kiss me ere we part;</div> + <div class='line3'>Grow closer to my heart.</div> + <div class='line'>My heart is warmer surely than the bosom of the main.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Oh joy! O bliss of blisses!</div> + <div class='line3'>My heart of hearts art thou.</div> + <div class='line'>Come bathe me with thy kisses,</div> + <div class='line3'>My eyelids and my brow.</div> + <div class='line'>Hark how the wild rain hisses,</div> + <div class='line3'>And the loud sea roars below.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Thy heart beats through thy rosy limbs</div> + <div class='line3'>So gladly doth it stir;</div> + <div class='line'>Thine eye in drops of gladness swims.</div> + <div class='line3'>I have bathed thee with the pleasant myrrh;</div> + <div class='line'>Thy locks are dripping balm;</div><a name='Page_32'></a> + <div class='line3'>Thou shalt not wander hence to-night,</div> + <div class='line'>I'll stay thee with my kisses.</div> + <div class='line3'>To-night the roaring brine</div> + <div class='line'>Will rend thy golden tresses;</div> + <div class='line3'>The ocean with the morrow light</div> + <div class='line'>Will be both blue and calm;</div> + <div class='line3'>And the billow will embrace thee with a kiss as soft as mine.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>No western odours wander</div> + <div class='line3'>On the black and moaning sea,</div> + <div class='line'>And when thou art dead, Leander,</div> + <div class='line3'>My soul shall follow thee!</div> + <div class='line'>Oh go not yet, my love,</div> + <div class='line3'>Thy voice is sweet and low;</div> + <div class='line'>The deep salt wave breaks in above</div> + <div class='line3'>Those marble steps below.</div> + <div class='line'>The turretstairs are wet</div> + <div class='line3'>That lead into the sea.</div> + <div class='line'>Leander! go not yet.</div> + <div class='line'>The pleasant stars have set!</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! go not, go not yet,</div> + <div class='line3'>Or I will follow thee.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_33'></a>VII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>The Mystic</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Angels have talked with him, and showed him thrones:</div> + <div class='line'>Ye knew him not: he was not one of ye,</div> + <div class='line'>Ye scorned him with an undiscerning scorn:</div> + <div class='line'>Ye could not read the marvel in his eye,</div> + <div class='line'>The still serene abstraction; he hath felt</div> + <div class='line'>The vanities of after and before;</div> + <div class='line'>Albeit, his spirit and his secret heart</div> + <div class='line'>The stern experiences of converse lives,</div> + <div class='line'>The linkèd woes of many a fiery change</div> + <div class='line'>Had purified, and chastened, and made free.</div> + <div class='line'>Always there stood before him, night and day,</div> + <div class='line'>Of wayward vary coloured circumstance,</div> + <div class='line'>The imperishable presences serene,</div> + <div class='line'>Colossal, without form, or sense, or sound,</div> + <div class='line'>Dim shadows but unwaning presences</div> + <div class='line'>Fourfacèd to four corners of the sky;</div> + <div class='line'>And yet again, three shadows, fronting one,</div> + <div class='line'>One forward, one respectant, three but one;</div> + <div class='line'>And yet again, again and evermore,</div> + <div class='line'>For the two first were not, but only seemed</div> + <div class='line'>One shadow in the midst of a great light,</div> + <div class='line'>One reflex from eternity on time,</div><a name='Page_34'></a> + <div class='line'>One mighty countenance of perfect calm,</div> + <div class='line'>Awful with most invariable eyes.</div> + <div class='line'>For him the silent congregated hours,</div> + <div class='line'>Daughters of time, divinely tall, beneath</div> + <div class='line'>Severe and youthful brows, with shining eyes</div> + <div class='line'>Smiling a godlike smile (the innocent light</div> + <div class='line'>Of earliest youth pierced through and through with all</div> + <div class='line'>Keen knowledges of low-embowèd eld)</div> + <div class='line'>Upheld, and ever hold aloft the cloud</div> + <div class='line'>Which droops low hung on either gate of life,</div> + <div class='line'>Both birth and death; he in the centre fixed,</div> + <div class='line'>Saw far on each side through the grated gates</div> + <div class='line'>Most pale and clear and lovely distances.</div> + <div class='line'>He often lying broad awake, and yet</div> + <div class='line'>Remaining from the body, and apart</div> + <div class='line'>In intellect and power and will, hath heard</div> + <div class='line'>Time flowing in the middle of the night,</div> + <div class='line'>And all things creeping to a day of doom.</div> + <div class='line'>How could ye know him? Ye were yet within</div> + <div class='line'>The narrower circle; he had well nigh reached</div> + <div class='line'>The last, with which a region of white flame,</div> + <div class='line'>Pure without heat, into a larger air</div> + <div class='line'>Upburning, and an ether of black hue,</div> + <div class='line'>Investeth and ingirds all other lives.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_35'></a>VIII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>The Grasshopper</div> + <div class='heading'>I</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Voice of the summerwind,</div> + <div class='line3'>Joy of the summerplain,</div> + <div class='line3'>Life of the summerhours,</div> + <div class='line2'>Carol clearly, bound along.</div> + <div class='line3'>No Tithon thou as poets feign</div> + <div class='line'>(Shame fall 'em they are deaf and blind)</div> + <div class='line2'>But an insect lithe and strong,</div> + <div class='line3'>Bowing the seeded summerflowers.</div> + <div class='line'>Prove their falsehood and thy quarrel,</div> + <div class='line3'>Vaulting on thine airy feet.</div> + <div class='line'>Clap thy shielded sides and carol,</div> + <div class='line3'>Carol clearly, chirrup sweet</div> + <div class='line'>Thou art a mailèd warrior in youth and strength complete;</div> + <div class='line3'>Armed cap-a-pie,</div> + <div class='line3'>Full fair to see;</div> + <div class='line4'>Unknowing fear,</div> + <div class='line3'>Undreading loss,</div> + <div class='line4'>A gallant cavalier</div> + <div class='line'><i>Sans peur et sans reproche,</i></div> + <div class='line3'>In sunlight and in shadow,</div> + <div class='line3'>The Bayard of the meadow.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>I would dwell with thee,</div> + <div class='line3'>Merry grasshopper,</div> + <div class='line'>Thou art so glad and free,</div> + <div class='line3'>And as light as air;</div> + <div class='line'>Thou hast no sorrow or tears,</div> + <div class='line'>Thou hast no compt of years,</div> + <div class='line'>No withered immortality,</div> + <div class='line'>But a short youth sunny and free.</div> + <div class='line'>Carol clearly, bound along,</div> + <div class='line3'>Soon thy joy is over,</div> + <div class='line'>A summer of loud song,</div> + <div class='line3'>And slumbers in the clover.</div> + <div class='line3'>What hast thou to do with evil</div> + <div class='line3'>In thine hour of love and revel,</div> + <div class='line3'>In thy heat of summerpride,</div> + <div class='line3'>Pushing the thick roots aside</div> + <div class='line3'>Of the singing flowerèd grasses,</div> + <div class='line3'>That brush thee with their silken tresses?</div> + <div class='line'>What hast thou to do with evil,</div> + <div class='line'>Shooting, singing, ever springing</div> + <div class='line3'>In and out the emerald glooms,</div> + <div class='line'>Ever leaping, ever singing,</div> + <div class='line3'>Lighting on the golden blooms?</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_37'></a>IX</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Love, Pride and Forgetfulness</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Ere yet my heart was sweet Love's tomb,</div> + <div class='line'>Love laboured honey busily.</div> + <div class='line'>I was the hive and Love the bee,</div> + <div class='line'>My heart the honey-comb.</div> + <div class='line'>One very dark and chilly night</div> + <div class='line'>Pride came beneath and held a light.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The cruel vapours went through all,</div> + <div class='line'>Sweet Love was withered in his cell;</div> + <div class='line'>Pride took Love's sweets, and by a spell</div> + <div class='line'>Did change them into gall;</div> + <div class='line'>And Memory tho' fed by Pride</div> + <div class='line'>Did wax so thin on gall,</div> + <div class='line'>Awhile she scarcely lived at all,</div> + <div class='line'>What marvel that she died?</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_38'></a>X</h2> + +<p><b>Chorus</b></p> + +<p><i>In an unpublished drama written very early.</i></p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The varied earth, the moving heaven,</div> + <div class='line3'>The rapid waste of roving sea,</div> + <div class='line'>The fountainpregnant mountains riven</div> + <div class='line3'>To shapes of wildest anarchy,</div> + <div class='line'>By secret fire and midnight storms</div> + <div class='line3'>That wander round their windy cones,</div> + <div class='line'>The subtle life, the countless forms</div> + <div class='line3'>Of living things, the wondrous tones</div> + <div class='line'>Of man and beast are full of strange</div> + <div class='line'>Astonishment and boundless change.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The day, the diamonded light,</div> + <div class='line3'>The echo, feeble child of sound,</div> + <div class='line'>The heavy thunder's girding might,</div> + <div class='line3'>The herald lightning's starry bound,</div> + <div class='line'>The vocal spring of bursting bloom,</div> + <div class='line3'>The naked summer's glowing birth,</div> + <div class='line'>The troublous autumn's sallow gloom,</div> + <div class='line3'>The hoarhead winter paving earth</div> + <div class='line'>With sheeny white, are full of strange</div> + <div class='line'>Astonishment and boundless change.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Each sun which from the centre flings</div><a name='Page_39'></a> + <div class='line3'>Grand music and redundant fire,</div> + <div class='line'>The burning belts, the mighty rings,</div> + <div class='line3'>The murmurous planets' rolling choir,</div> + <div class='line'>The globefilled arch that, cleaving air,</div> + <div class='line3'>Lost in its effulgence sleeps,</div> + <div class='line'>The lawless comets as they glare,</div> + <div class='line3'>And thunder thro' the sapphire deeps</div> + <div class='line'>In wayward strength, are full of strange</div> + <div class='line'>Astonishment and boundless change.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_40'></a>XI</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Lost Hope</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>You cast to ground the hope which once was mine,</div> + <div class='line3'>But did the while your harsh decree deplore,</div> + <div class='line'>Embalming with sweet tears the vacant shrine,</div> + <div class='line3'>My heart, where Hope had been and was no more.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>So on an oaken sprout</div> + <div class='line3'>A goodly acorn grew;</div> + <div class='line'>But winds from heaven shook the acorn out,</div> + <div class='line3'>And filled the cup with dew.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_41'></a>XII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>The Tears of Heaven</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Heaven weeps above the earth all night till morn,</div> + <div class='line'>In darkness weeps, as all ashamed to weep,</div> + <div class='line'>Because the earth hath made her state forlorn</div> + <div class='line'>With selfwrought evils of unnumbered years,</div> + <div class='line'>And doth the fruit of her dishonour reap.</div> + <div class='line'>And all the day heaven gathers back her tears</div> + <div class='line'>Into her own blue eyes so clear and deep,</div> + <div class='line'>And showering down the glory of lightsome day,</div> + <div class='line'>Smiles on the earth's worn brow to win her if she may.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_42'></a>XIII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Love and Sorrow</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O maiden, fresher than the first green leaf</div> + <div class='line'>With which the fearful springtide flecks the lea,</div> + <div class='line'>Weep not, Almeida, that I said to thee</div> + <div class='line'>That thou hast half my heart, for bitter grief</div> + <div class='line'>Doth hold the other half in sovranty.</div> + <div class='line'>Thou art my heart's sun in love's crystalline:</div> + <div class='line'>Yet on both sides at once thou canst not shine:</div> + <div class='line'>Thine is the bright side of my heart, and thine</div> + <div class='line'>My heart's day, but the shadow of my heart,</div> + <div class='line'>Issue of its own substance, my heart's night</div> + <div class='line'>Thou canst not lighten even with <i>thy</i> light,</div> + <div class='line'>All powerful in beauty as thou art.</div> + <div class='line'>Almeida, if my heart were substanceless,</div> + <div class='line'>Then might thy rays pass thro' to the other side,</div> + <div class='line'>So swiftly, that they nowhere would abide,</div> + <div class='line'>But lose themselves in utter emptiness.</div> + <div class='line'>Half-light, half-shadow, let my spirit sleep</div> + <div class='line'>They never learnt to love who never knew to weep.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_43'></a>XIV</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>To a Lady Sleeping</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O thou whose fringèd lids I gaze upon,</div> + <div class='line'>Through whose dim brain the wingèd dreams are born,</div> + <div class='line'>Unroof the shrines of clearest vision,</div> + <div class='line'>In honour of the silverfleckèd morn:</div> + <div class='line'>Long hath the white wave of the virgin light</div> + <div class='line'>Driven back the billow of the dreamful dark.</div> + <div class='line'>Thou all unwittingly prolongest night,</div> + <div class='line'>Though long ago listening the poisèd lark,</div> + <div class='line'>With eyes dropt downward through the blue serene,</div> + <div class='line'>Over heaven's parapets the angels lean.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_44'></a>XV</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Sonnet</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Could I outwear my present state of woe</div> + <div class='line'>With one brief winter, and indue i' the spring</div> + <div class='line'>Hues of fresh youth, and mightily outgrow</div> + <div class='line'>The wan dark coil of faded suffering—</div> + <div class='line'>Forth in the pride of beauty issuing</div> + <div class='line'>A sheeny snake, the light of vernal bowers,</div> + <div class='line'>Moving his crest to all sweet plots of flowers</div> + <div class='line'>And watered vallies where the young birds sing;</div> + <div class='line'>Could I thus hope my lost delights renewing,</div> + <div class='line'>I straightly would commend the tears to creep</div> + <div class='line'>From my charged lids; but inwardly I weep:</div> + <div class='line'>Some vital heat as yet my heart is wooing:</div> + <div class='line'>This to itself hath drawn the frozen rain</div> + <div class='line'>From my cold eyes and melted it again.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_45'></a>XVI</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Sonnet</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Though Night hath climbed her peak of highest noon,</div> + <div class='line'>And bitter blasts the screaming autumn whirl,</div> + <div class='line'>All night through archways of the bridgèd pearl</div> + <div class='line'>And portals of pure silver walks the moon.</div> + <div class='line'>Wake on, my soul, nor crouch to agony:</div> + <div class='line'>Turn cloud to light, and bitterness to joy,</div> + <div class='line'>And dross to gold with glorious alchemy,</div> + <div class='line'>Basing thy throne above the world's annoy.</div> + <div class='line'>Reign thou above the storms of sorrow and ruth</div> + <div class='line'>That roar beneath; unshaken peace hath won thee:</div> + <div class='line'>So shall thou pierce the woven glooms of truth;</div> + <div class='line'>So shall the blessing of the meek be on thee;</div> + <div class='line'>So in thine hour of dawn, the body's youth,</div> + <div class='line'>An honourable eld shall come upon thee.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_46'></a>XVII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Sonnet</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Shall the hag Evil die with the child of Good,</div> + <div class='line'>Or propagate again her loathèd kind,</div> + <div class='line'>Thronging the cells of the diseased mind,</div> + <div class='line'>Hateful with hanging cheeks, a withered brood,</div> + <div class='line'>Though hourly pastured on the salient blood?</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! that the wind which bloweth cold or heat</div> + <div class='line'>Would shatter and o'erbear the brazen beat</div> + <div class='line'>Of their broad vans, and in the solitude</div> + <div class='line'>Of middle space confound them, and blow back</div> + <div class='line'>Their wild cries down their cavernthroats, and slake</div> + <div class='line'>With points of blastborne hail their heated eyne!</div> + <div class='line'>So their wan limbs no more might come between</div> + <div class='line'>The moon and the moon's reflex in the night;</div> + <div class='line'>Nor blot with floating shades the solar light.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_47'></a>XVIII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Sonnet</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The palid thunderstricken sigh for gain,</div> + <div class='line'>Down an ideal stream they ever float,</div> + <div class='line'>And sailing on Pactolus in a boat,</div> + <div class='line'>Drown soul and sense, while wistfully they strain</div> + <div class='line'>Weak eyes upon the glistering sands that robe</div> + <div class='line'>The understream. The wise could he behold</div> + <div class='line'>Cathedralled caverns of thick-ribbèd gold</div> + <div class='line'>And branching silvers of the central globe,</div> + <div class='line'>Would marvel from so beautiful a sight</div> + <div class='line'>How scorn and ruin, pain and hate could flow:</div> + <div class='line'>But Hatred in a gold cave sits below,</div> + <div class='line'>Pleached with her hair, in mail of argent light</div> + <div class='line'>Shot into gold, a snake her forehead clips</div> + <div class='line'>And skins the colour from her trembling lips.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_48'></a>XIX</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Love</div> + <div class='heading'>I</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Thou, from the first, unborn, undying love,</div> + <div class='line'>Albeit we gaze not on thy glories near,</div> + <div class='line'>Before the face of God didst breath and move,</div> + <div class='line'>Though night and pain and ruin and death reign here.</div> + <div class='line'>Thou foldest, like a golden atmosphere,</div> + <div class='line'>The very throne of the eternal God:</div> + <div class='line'>Passing through thee the edicts of his fear</div> + <div class='line'>Are mellowed into music, borne abroad</div> + <div class='line'>By the loud winds, though they uprend the sea,</div> + <div class='line'>Even from his central deeps: thine empery</div> + <div class='line'>Is over all: thou wilt not brook eclipse;</div> + <div class='line'>Thou goest and returnest to His Lips</div> + <div class='line'>Like lightning: thou dost ever brood above</div> + <div class='line'>The silence of all hearts, unutterable Love.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>To know thee is all wisdom, and old age</div> + <div class='line'>Is but to know thee: dimly we behold thee</div> + <div class='line'>Athwart the veils of evil which enfold thee</div> + <div class='line'>We beat upon our aching hearts with rage;</div> + <div class='line'>We cry for thee: we deem the world thy tomb.</div> + <div class='line'>As dwellers in lone planets look upon</div><a name='Page_49'></a> + <div class='line'>The mighty disk of their majestic sun,</div> + <div class='line'>Hallowed in awful chasms of wheeling gloom,</div> + <div class='line'>Making their day dim, so we gaze on thee.</div> + <div class='line'>Come, thou of many crowns, white-robèd love,</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! rend the veil in twain: all men adore thee;</div> + <div class='line'>Heaven crieth after thee; earth waileth for thee:</div> + <div class='line'>Breathe on thy wingèd throne, and it shall move</div> + <div class='line'>In music and in light o'er land and sea.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>III</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>And now—methinks I gaze upon thee now,</div> + <div class='line'>As on a serpent in his agonies</div> + <div class='line'>Awestricken Indians; what time laid low</div> + <div class='line'>And crushing the thick fragrant reeds he lies,</div> + <div class='line'>When the new year warm breathèd on the earth,</div> + <div class='line'>Waiting to light him with his purple skies,</div> + <div class='line'>Calls to him by the fountain to uprise.</div> + <div class='line'>Already with the pangs of a new birth</div> + <div class='line'>Strain the hot spheres of his convulsèd eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>And in his writhings awful hues begin</div> + <div class='line'>To wander down his sable sheeny sides,</div> + <div class='line'>Like light on troubled waters: from within</div> + <div class='line'>Anon he rusheth forth with merry din,</div> + <div class='line'>And in him light and joy and strength abides;</div> + <div class='line'>And from his brows a crown of living light</div> + <div class='line'>Looks through the thickstemmed woods by day and night</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_50'></a>XX</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>English War Song</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line3'>Who fears to die? Who fears to die?</div> + <div class='line3'>Is there any here who fears to die</div> + <div class='line'>He shall find what he fears, and none shall grieve</div> + <div class='line3'>For the man who fears to die:</div> + <div class='line'>But the withering scorn of the many shall cleave</div> + <div class='line3'>To the man who fears to die.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>Chorus</i>.—Shout for England!</div> + <div class='line9'>Ho! for England!</div> + <div class='line9'>George for England!</div> + <div class='line9'>Merry England!</div> + <div class='line9'>England for aye!</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The hollow at heart shall crouch forlorn,</div> + <div class='line'>He shall eat the bread of common scorn;</div> + <div class='line3'>It shall be steeped in the salt, salt tear,</div> + <div class='line3'>Shall be steeped in his own salt tear:</div> + <div class='line'>Far better, far better he never were born</div> + <div class='line3'>Than to shame merry England here.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>Chorus</i>.—Shout for England! <i>etc</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>There standeth our ancient enemy;</div><a name='Page_51'></a> + <div class='line'>Hark! he shouteth—the ancient enemy!</div> + <div class='line3'>On the ridge of the hill his banners rise;</div> + <div class='line3'>They stream like fire in the skies;</div> + <div class='line'>Hold up the Lion of England on high</div> + <div class='line3'>Till it dazzle and blind his eyes.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>Chorus</i>.—Shout for England! <i>etc</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Come along! we alone of the earth are free;</div> + <div class='line'>The child in our cradles is bolder than he;</div> + <div class='line3'>For where is the heart and strength of slaves?</div> + <div class='line3'>Oh! where is the strength of slaves?</div> + <div class='line'>He is weak! we are strong; he a slave, we are free;</div> + <div class='line3'>Come along! we will dig their graves.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>Chorus</i>.—Shout for England! <i>etc</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>There standeth our ancient enemy;</div> + <div class='line'>Will he dare to battle with the free?</div> + <div class='line3'>Spur along! spur amain! charge to the fight:</div> + <div class='line3'>Charge! charge to the fight!</div> + <div class='line'>Hold up the Lion of England on high!</div> + <div class='line3'>Shout for God and our right!</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>Chorus</i>.—Shout for England! <i>etc</i>.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_52'></a>XXI</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>National Song</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>There is no land like England</div> + <div class='line2'>Where'er the light of day be;</div> + <div class='line'>There are no hearts like English hearts,</div> + <div class='line2'>Such hearts of oak as they be.</div> + <div class='line'>There is no land like England</div> + <div class='line2'>Where'er the light of day be;</div> + <div class='line'>There are no men like Englishmen,</div> + <div class='line2'>So tall and bold as they be.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>Chorus</i>.—For the French the Pope may shrive 'em,</div> + <div class='line5'>For the devil a whit we heed 'em,</div> + <div class='line5'>As for the French, God speed 'em</div> + <div class='line6'>Unto their hearts' desire,</div> + <div class='line5'>And the merry devil drive 'em</div> + <div class='line6'>Through the water and the fire.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>Chorus</i>.—Our glory is our freedom,</div> + <div class='line6'>We lord it o'er the sea;</div> + <div class='line5'>We are the sons of freedom,</div> + <div class='line6'>We are free.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>There is no land like England,</div><a name='Page_53'></a> + <div class='line2'>Where'er the light of day be;</div> + <div class='line'>There are no wives like English wives,</div> + <div class='line2'>So fair and chaste as they be.</div> + <div class='line'>There is no land like England,</div> + <div class='line2'>Where'er the light of day be,</div> + <div class='line'>There are no maids like English maids,</div> + <div class='line2'>So beautiful as they be.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>Chorus</i>.—For the French, <i>etc</i>.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>[Sixty years after first publication this Song was incorporated in +'The Foresters' (published 1892) as the opening chorus of the second +act. The two verses were unaltered, but the two choruses were +re-written.]</p> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_54'></a>XXII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Dualisms</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Two bees within a chrystal flowerbell rockèd</div> + <div class='line'>Hum a lovelay to the westwind at noontide.</div> + <div class='line'>Both alike, they buzz together,</div> + <div class='line'>Both alike, they hum together</div> + <div class='line'>Through and through the flowered heather.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Where in a creeping cove the wave unshockèd</div> + <div class='line2'>Lays itself calm and wide,</div> + <div class='line'>Over a stream two birds of glancing feather</div> + <div class='line'>Do woo each other, carolling together.</div> + <div class='line'>Both alike, they glide together</div> + <div class='line2'>Side by side;</div> + <div class='line'>Both alike, they sing together,</div> + <div class='line'>Arching blue-glossèd necks beneath the purple weather.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Two children lovelier than love, adown the lea are singing,</div> + <div class='line'>As they gambol, lilygarlands ever stringing:</div> + <div class='line'>Both in blosmwhite silk are frockèd:</div> + <div class='line'>Like, unlike, they roam together</div> + <div class='line'>Under a summervault of golden weather;</div> + <div class='line'>Like, unlike, they sing together</div> + <div class='line2'>Side by side;</div> + <div class='line'>Mid May's darling goldenlockèd,</div> + <div class='line'>Summer's tanling diamondeyed.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_55'></a>XXIII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'><span class="greek" title="[Greek: ohi rheontes]">οἱ ρἑοντες</span></div> + <div class='heading'>I</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>All thoughts, all creeds, all dreams are true,</div> + <div class='line2'>All visions wild and strange;</div> + <div class='line'>Man is the measure of all truth</div> + <div class='line2'>Unto himself. All truth is change:</div> + <div class='line'>All men do walk in sleep, and all</div> + <div class='line2'>Have faith in that they dream:</div> + <div class='line'>For all things are as they seem to all,</div> + <div class='line2'>And all things flow like a stream.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>There is no rest, no calm, no pause,</div> + <div class='line2'>Nor good nor ill, nor light nor shade,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor essence nor eternal laws:</div> + <div class='line2'>For nothing is, but all is made,</div> + <div class='line'>But if I dream that all these are,</div> + <div class='line2'>They are to me for that I dream;</div> + <div class='line'>For all things are as they seem to all,</div> + <div class='line2'>And all things flow like a stream.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Argal.—This very opinion is only true relatively to the flowing +philosophers. (Tennyson's note.)</p> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_56'></a>XXIV</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Song</div> + <div class='heading'>I</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The lintwhite and the throstlecock</div> + <div class='line3'>Have voices sweet and clear;</div> + <div class='line2'>All in the bloomèd May.</div> + <div class='line'>They from the blosmy brere</div> + <div class='line'>Call to the fleeting year,</div> + <div class='line'>If that he would them hear</div> + <div class='line3'>And stay.</div> + <div class='line'>Alas! that one so beautiful</div> + <div class='line2'>Should have so dull an ear.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Fair year, fair year, thy children call,</div> + <div class='line3'>But thou art deaf as death;</div> + <div class='line2'>All in the bloomèd May.</div> + <div class='line'>When thy light perisheth</div> + <div class='line'>That from thee issueth,</div> + <div class='line'>Our life evanisheth:</div> + <div class='line3'>Oh! stay.</div> + <div class='line'>Alas! that lips so cruel dumb</div> + <div class='line2'>Should have so sweet a breath!</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>III<a name='Page_57'></a></div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Fair year, with brows of royal love</div> + <div class='line3'>Thou comest, as a King.</div> + <div class='line2'>All in the bloomèd May.</div> + <div class='line'>Thy golden largess fling,</div> + <div class='line'>And longer hear us sing;</div> + <div class='line'>Though thou art fleet of wing,</div> + <div class='line3'>Yet stay.</div> + <div class='line'>Alas! that eyes so full of light</div> + <div class='line'>Should be so wandering!</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>IV</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Thy locks are full of sunny sheen</div> + <div class='line3'>In rings of gold yronne,<a name='FNanchor_C_3'></a><a href='#Footnote_C_3'><sup>[C]</sup></a></div> + <div class='line2'>All in the bloomèd May,</div> + <div class='line'>We pri' thee pass not on;</div> + <div class='line'>If thou dost leave the sun,</div> + <div class='line'>Delight is with thee gone,</div> + <div class='line3'>Oh! stay.</div> + <div class='line'>Thou art the fairest of thy feres,</div> + <div class='line2'>We pri' thee pass not on.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name='Page_59'></a><a name='Page_58'></a>Contributions to Periodicals 1831-32<a name='Page_60'></a></h2> + +<h2><a name='Page_61'></a>XXV</h2> + +<p><b>A Fragment</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>The Gem: a Literary Annual</i>. London: W. Marshall, +Holborn Bars, mdcccxxxi.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Where is the Giant of the Sun, which stood</div> + <div class='line'>In the midnoon the glory of old Rhodes,</div> + <div class='line'>A perfect Idol, with profulgent brows</div> + <div class='line'>Far sheening down the purple seas to those</div> + <div class='line'>Who sailed from Mizraim underneath the star</div> + <div class='line'>Named of the Dragon—and between whose limbs</div> + <div class='line'>Of brassy vastness broad-blown Argosies</div> + <div class='line'>Drave into haven? Yet endure unscathed</div> + <div class='line'>Of changeful cycles the great Pyramids</div> + <div class='line'>Broad-based amid the fleeting sands, and sloped</div> + <div class='line'>Into the slumberous summer noon; but where,</div> + <div class='line'>Mysterious Egypt, are thine obelisks</div> + <div class='line'>Graven with gorgeous emblems undiscerned?</div> + <div class='line'>Thy placid Sphinxes brooding o'er the Nile?</div> + <div class='line'>Thy shadowy Idols in the solitudes,</div> + <div class='line'>Awful Memnonian countenances calm</div> + <div class='line'>Looking athwart the burning flats, far off</div> + <div class='line'>Seen by the high-necked camel on the verge</div> + <div class='line'>Journeying southward? Where are thy monuments</div><a name='Page_62'></a> + <div class='line'>Piled by the strong and sunborn Anakim</div> + <div class='line'>Over their crowned brethren <span class="greek" title="[Greek: ON]">ΟΝ</span> and <span class="greek" title="[Greek: ORÊ]">ΟΡΕ</span>?</div> + <div class='line'>Thy Memnon, when his peaceful lips are kissed</div> + <div class='line'>With earliest rays, that from his mother's eyes</div> + <div class='line'>Flow over the Arabian bay, no more</div> + <div class='line'>Breathes low into the charmed ears of morn</div> + <div class='line'>Clear melody flattering the crisped Nile</div> + <div class='line'>By columned Thebes. Old Memphis hath gone down:</div> + <div class='line'>The Pharaohs are no more: somewhere in death</div> + <div class='line'>They sleep with staring eyes and gilded lips,</div> + <div class='line'>Wrapped round with spiced cerements in old grots</div> + <div class='line'>Rock-hewn and sealed for ever.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_63'></a>XXVI</h2> + +<p><b>Anacreontics</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>The Gem: a Literary Annual</i>. London: W. Marshall, +Holborn Bars, mdcccxxxi.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>With roses musky breathed,</div> + <div class='line'>And drooping daffodilly,</div> + <div class='line'>And silverleaved lily,</div> + <div class='line'>And ivy darkly-wreathed,</div> + <div class='line'>I wove a crown before her,</div> + <div class='line'>For her I love so dearly,</div> + <div class='line'>A garland for Lenora.</div> + <div class='line'>With a silken cord I bound it.</div> + <div class='line'>Lenora, laughing clearly</div> + <div class='line'>A light and thrilling laughter,</div> + <div class='line'>About her forehead wound it,</div> + <div class='line'>And loved me ever after.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_64'></a>XXVII</h2> + +<p>[Published in <i>The Gem: a Literary Annual</i>. London: W. Marshall, +Holborn Bars, mdcccxxxi.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line3'>O sad <i>No more!</i> O sweet <i>No more!</i></div> + <div class='line8'>O strange <i>No more!</i></div> + <div class='line3'>By a mossed brookbank on a stone</div> + <div class='line3'>I smelt a wildweed flower alone;</div> + <div class='line3'>There was a ringing in my ears,</div> + <div class='line3'>And both my eyes gushed out with tears.</div> + <div class='line'>Surely all pleasant things had gone before,</div> + <div class='line'>Low-buried fathom deep beneath with thee,</div> + <div class='line8'>NO MORE!</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_65'></a>XXVIII</h2> + +<p><b>Sonnet</b></p> + +<p>[Published in the <i>Englishman's Magazine</i>, August, 1831. London: +Edward Moxon, 64 New Bond Street. Reprinted in <i>Friendship's Offering: +a Literary Album</i> for 1833. London; Smith and Elder.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Check every outflash, every ruder sally</div> + <div class='line2'>Of thought and speech; speak low, and give up wholly</div> + <div class='line2'>Thy spirit to mild-minded Melancholy;</div> + <div class='line'>This is the place. Through yonder poplar alley</div> + <div class='line'>Below, the blue-green river windeth slowly;</div> + <div class='line2'>But in the middle of the sombre valley</div> + <div class='line2'>The crispèd waters whisper musically,</div> + <div class='line'>And all the haunted place is dark and holy.</div> + <div class='line'>The nightingale, with long and low preamble,</div> + <div class='line2'>Warbled from yonder knoll of solemn larches,</div> + <div class='line2'>And in and out the woodbine's flowery arches</div> + <div class='line'>The summer midges wove their wanton gambol,</div> + <div class='line2'>And all the white-stemmed pinewood slept above—</div> + <div class='line2'>When in this valley first I told my love.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_66'></a>XXIX</h2> + +<p><b>Sonnet</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>Friendships Offering: a Literary Album</i> for 1832. +London: Smith and Elder.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh:</div> + <div class='line2'>Thy woes are birds of passage, transitory:</div> + <div class='line2'>Thy spirit, circled with a living glory,</div> + <div class='line'>In summer still a summer joy resumeth.</div> + <div class='line'>Alone my hopeless melancholy gloometh,</div> + <div class='line2'>Like a lone cypress, through the twilight hoary,</div> + <div class='line'>From an old garden where no flower bloometh,</div> + <div class='line2'>One cypress on an inland promontory.</div> + <div class='line'>But yet my lonely spirit follows thine,</div> + <div class='line2'>As round the rolling earth night follows day:</div> + <div class='line'>But yet thy lights on my horizon shine</div> + <div class='line2'>Into my night when thou art far away;</div> + <div class='line'>I am so dark, alas! and thou so bright,</div> + <div class='line'>When we two meet there's never perfect light.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_67'></a>XXX</h2> + +<p><b>Sonnet</b></p> + +<p>[Published in the <i>Yorkshire Literary Annual</i> for 1832. Edited by C.F. +Edgar, London: Longman and Co. Reprinted in the <i>Athenæum</i>, 4 May, +1867.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>There are three things that fill my heart with sighs</div> + <div class='line'>And steep my soul in laughter (when I view</div> + <div class='line'>Fair maiden forms moving like melodies),</div> + <div class='line'>Dimples, roselips, and eyes of any hue.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>There are three things beneath the blessed skies</div> + <div class='line'>For which I live—black eyes, and brown and blue;</div> + <div class='line'>I hold them all most dear; but oh! black eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>I live and die, and only die for you.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Of late such eyes looked at me—while I mused</div> + <div class='line'>At sunset, underneath a shadowy plane</div> + <div class='line'>In old Bayona, nigh the Southern Sea—</div> + <div class='line'>From an half-open lattice looked at <i>me</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>I saw no more only those eyes—confused</div> + <div class='line'>And dazzled to the heart with glorious pain.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name='Page_69'></a>Poems, 1833</h2> + +<p><a name='Page_70'></a>[The poems numbered XXXI-XXXIX were published in the 1832 volume +(<i>Poems by Alfred Tennyson</i>. London: Edward Moxon, 94 New Bond Street. +MDCCCXXXIII; published December, 1832), and were thereafter +suppressed.]</p> + +<h2><a name='Page_71'></a>XXXI</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Sonnet</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Oh, Beauty, passing beauty! sweetest Sweet!</div> + <div class='line2'>How canst thou let me waste my youth in sighs;</div> + <div class='line'>I only ask to sit beside thy feet.</div> + <div class='line2'>Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold</div> + <div class='line2'>My arms about thee—scarcely dare to speak.</div> + <div class='line'>And nothing seems to me so wild and bold,</div> + <div class='line2'>As with one kiss to touch thy blessèd cheek.</div> + <div class='line'>Methinks if I should kiss thee, no control</div> + <div class='line2'>Within the thrilling brain could keep afloat</div> + <div class='line2'>The subtle spirit. Even while I spoke,</div> + <div class='line'>The bare word KISS hath made my inner soul</div> + <div class='line2'>To tremble like a lutestring, ere the note</div> + <div class='line2'>Hath melted in the silence that it broke.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_72'></a>XXXII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>The Hesperides</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line2'>Hesperus and his daughters three</div> + <div class='line2'>That sing about the golden tree.</div> + <div class='line2'>—COMUS.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The Northwind fall'n, in the newstarréd night</div> + <div class='line'>Zidonian Hanno, voyaging beyond</div> + <div class='line'>The hoary promontory of Soloë</div> + <div class='line'>Past Thymiaterion, in calmèd bays,</div> + <div class='line'>Between the Southern and the Western Horn,</div> + <div class='line'>Heard neither warbling of the nightingale,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor melody o' the Lybian lotusflute</div> + <div class='line'>Blown seaward from the shore; but from a slope</div> + <div class='line'>That ran bloombright into the Atlantic blue,</div> + <div class='line'>Beneath a highland leaning down a weight</div> + <div class='line'>Of cliffs, and zoned below with cedarshade,</div> + <div class='line'>Came voices, like the voices in a dream,</div> + <div class='line'>Continuous till he reached the other sea.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Song</div> + <div class='heading'>I</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The golden apple, the golden apple, the hallowed fruit,</div> + <div class='line'>Guard it well, guard it warily,</div> + <div class='line'>Singing airily,</div> + <div class='line'>Standing about the charméd root.</div> + <div class='line'>Round about all is mute,</div> + <div class='line'>As the snowfield on the mountain-peaks,</div><a name='Page_73'></a> + <div class='line'>As the sandfield at the mountain-foot.</div> + <div class='line'>Crocodiles in briny creeks</div> + <div class='line'>Sleep and stir not: all is mute.</div> + <div class='line'>If ye sing not, if ye make false measure,</div> + <div class='line'>We shall lose eternal pleasure,</div> + <div class='line'>Worth eternal want of rest.</div> + <div class='line'>Laugh not loudly: watch the treasure</div> + <div class='line'>Of the wisdom of the West.</div> + <div class='line'>In a corner wisdom whispers. Five and three</div> + <div class='line'>(Let it not be preached abroad) make an awful mystery.</div> + <div class='line'>For the blossom unto three-fold music bloweth;</div> + <div class='line'>Evermore it is born anew;</div> + <div class='line'>And the sap to three-fold music floweth,</div> + <div class='line'>From the root</div> + <div class='line'>Drawn in the dark,</div> + <div class='line'>Up to the fruit,</div> + <div class='line'>Creeping under the fragrant bark,</div> + <div class='line'>Liquid gold, honeysweet thro' and thro'.</div> + <div class='line'>Keen-eyed Sisters, singing airily,</div> + <div class='line'>Looking warily</div> + <div class='line'>Every way,</div> + <div class='line'>Guard the apple night and day,</div> + <div class='line'>Lest one from the East come and take it away.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Father Hesper, Father Hesper, watch, watch, ever and aye,</div> + <div class='line'>Looking under silver hair with a silver eye.</div> + <div class='line'>Father, twinkle not thy stedfast sight;</div><a name='Page_74'></a> + <div class='line'>Kingdoms lapse, and climates change, and races die;</div> + <div class='line'>Honour comes with mystery;</div> + <div class='line'>Hoarded wisdom brings delight.</div> + <div class='line'>Number, tell them over and number</div> + <div class='line'>How many the mystic fruit-tree holds,</div> + <div class='line'>Lest the redcombed dragon slumber</div> + <div class='line'>Rolled together in purple folds.</div> + <div class='line'>Look to him, father, lest he wink, and the golden apple be stol'n away,</div> + <div class='line'>For his ancient heart is drunk with overwatchings night and day,</div> + <div class='line'>Round about the hallowed fruit tree curled—</div> + <div class='line'>Sing away, sing aloud and evermore in the wind, without stop,</div> + <div class='line'>Lest his scalèd eyelid drop,</div> + <div class='line'>For he is older than the world.</div> + <div class='line'>If he waken, we waken,</div> + <div class='line'>Rapidly levelling eager eyes.</div> + <div class='line'>If he sleep, we sleep,</div> + <div class='line'>Dropping the eyelid over the eyes.</div> + <div class='line'>If the golden apple be taken</div> + <div class='line'>The world will be overwise.</div> + <div class='line'>Five links, a golden chain, are we,</div> + <div class='line'>Hesper, the dragon, and sisters three,</div> + <div class='line'>Bound about the golden tree.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>III<a name='Page_75'></a></div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Father Hesper, Father Hesper, watch, watch, night and day,</div> + <div class='line'>Lest the old wound of the world be healèd,</div> + <div class='line'>The glory unsealèd,</div> + <div class='line'>The golden apple stol'n away,</div> + <div class='line'>And the ancient secret revealèd.</div> + <div class='line'>Look from west to east along:</div> + <div class='line'>Father, old Himla weakens, Caucasus is bold and strong.</div> + <div class='line'>Wandering waters unto wandering waters call;</div> + <div class='line'>Let them clash together, foam and fall.</div> + <div class='line'>Out of watchings, out of wiles,</div> + <div class='line'>Comes the bliss of secret smiles,</div> + <div class='line'>All things are not told to all,</div> + <div class='line'>Half round the mantling night is drawn,</div> + <div class='line'>Purplefringed with even and dawn.</div> + <div class='line'>Hesper hateth Phosphor, evening hateth morn.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>IV</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Every flower and every fruit the redolent breath</div> + <div class='line'>Of this warm seawind ripeneth,</div> + <div class='line'>Arching the billow in his sleep;</div> + <div class='line'>But the land-wind wandereth,</div> + <div class='line'>Broken by the highland-steep,</div> + <div class='line'>Two streams upon the violet deep:</div> + <div class='line'>For the western sun and the western star,</div> + <div class='line'>And the low west wind, breathing afar,</div> + <div class='line'>The end of day and beginning of night</div><a name='Page_76'></a> + <div class='line'>Make the apple holy and bright,</div> + <div class='line'>Holy and bright, round and full, bright and blest,</div> + <div class='line'>Mellowed in a land of rest;</div> + <div class='line'>Watch it warily day and night;</div> + <div class='line'>All good things are in the west,</div> + <div class='line'>Till midnoon the cool east light</div> + <div class='line'>Is shut out by the round of the tall hillbrow;</div> + <div class='line'>But when the fullfaced sunset yellowly</div> + <div class='line'>Stays on the flowering arch of the bough,</div> + <div class='line'>The luscious fruitage clustereth mellowly,</div> + <div class='line'>Goldenkernelled, goldencored,</div> + <div class='line'>Sunset ripened, above on the tree,</div> + <div class='line'>The world is wasted with fire and sword,</div> + <div class='line'>But the apple of gold hangs over the sea,</div> + <div class='line'>Five links, a golden chain, are we,</div> + <div class='line'>Hesper, the dragon, and sisters three,</div> + <div class='line3'>Daughters three,</div> + <div class='line3'>Bound about</div> + <div class='line3'>All round about</div> + <div class='line'>The gnarlèd bole of the charmèd tree,</div> + <div class='line'>The golden apple, the golden apple, the hallowed fruit,</div> + <div class='line'>Guard it well, guard it warily,</div> + <div class='line3'>Watch it warily,</div> + <div class='line3'>Singing airily,</div> + <div class='line'>Standing about the charmèd root.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_77'></a>XXXIII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Rosalind</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line2'>My Rosalind, my Rosalind,</div> + <div class='line'>Bold, subtle, careless Rosalind,</div> + <div class='line'>Is one of those who know no strife</div> + <div class='line'>Of inward woe or outward fear;</div> + <div class='line'>To whom the slope and stream of life,</div> + <div class='line'>The life before, the life behind,</div> + <div class='line'>In the ear, from far and near,</div> + <div class='line'>Chimeth musically clear.</div> + <div class='line'>My falconhearted Rosalind</div> + <div class='line'>Fullsailed before a vigorous wind,</div> + <div class='line'>Is one of those who cannot weep</div> + <div class='line'>For others' woes, but overleap</div> + <div class='line'>All the petty shocks and fears</div> + <div class='line'>That trouble life in early years,</div> + <div class='line'>With a flash of frolic scorn</div> + <div class='line'>And keen delight, that never falls</div> + <div class='line'>Away from freshness, self-upborne</div> + <div class='line'>With such gladness, as, whenever</div> + <div class='line'>The freshflushing springtime calls</div> + <div class='line'>To the flooding waters cool,</div> + <div class='line'>Young fishes, on an April morn,</div> + <div class='line'>Up and down a rapid river,</div><a name='Page_78'></a> + <div class='line'>Leap the little waterfalls</div> + <div class='line'>That sing into the pebbled pool.</div> + <div class='line'>My happy falcon, Rosalind,</div> + <div class='line'>Hath daring fancies of her own,</div> + <div class='line'>Fresh as the dawn before the day,</div> + <div class='line'>Fresh as the early seasmell blown</div> + <div class='line'>Through vineyards from an inland bay.</div> + <div class='line'>My Rosalind, my Rosalind,</div> + <div class='line'>Because no shadow on you falls,</div> + <div class='line'>Think you hearts are tennis balls</div> + <div class='line'>To play with, wanton Rosalind?</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_79'></a>XXXIV</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Song</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Who can say</div> + <div class='line'>Why To-day</div> + <div class='line'>To-morrow will be yesterday?</div> + <div class='line'>Who can tell</div> + <div class='line'>Why to smell</div> + <div class='line'>The violet, recalls the dewy prime</div> + <div class='line'>Of youth and buried time?</div> + <div class='line'>The cause is nowhere found in rhyme.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_80'></a>XXXV</h2> + +<p><i>Written on hearing of the outbreak of the Polish Insurrection.</i></p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>Sonnet</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Blow ye the trumpet, gather from afar</div> + <div class='line2'>The hosts to battle: be not bought and sold.</div> + <div class='line2'>Arise, brave Poles, the boldest of the bold;</div> + <div class='line'>Break through your iron shackles—fling them far.</div> + <div class='line'>O for those days of Piast, ere the Czar</div> + <div class='line2'>Grew to this strength among his deserts cold;</div> + <div class='line2'>When even to Moscow's cupolas were rolled</div> + <div class='line'>The growing murmurs of the Polish war!</div> + <div class='line'>Now must your noble anger blaze out more</div> + <div class='line2'>Than when from Sobieski, clan by clan,</div> + <div class='line'>The Moslem myriads fell, and fled before—</div> + <div class='line2'>Than when Zamoysky smote the Tartar Khan,</div> + <div class='line'>Than earlier, when on the Baltic shore</div> + <div class='line2'>Boleslas drove the Pomeranian.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_81'></a>XXXVI</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>O Darling Room<a name='FNanchor_D_4'></a><a href='#Footnote_D_4'><sup>[D]</sup></a></div> + <div class='heading'>I</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O darling room, my heart's delight,</div> + <div class='line'>Dear room, the apple of my sight,</div> + <div class='line'>With thy two couches soft and white,</div> + <div class='line'>There is no room so exquisite,</div> + <div class='line'>No little room so warm and bright</div> + <div class='line'>Wherein to read, wherein to write.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>For I the Nonnenwerth have seen,</div> + <div class='line'>And Oberwinter's vineyards green,</div> + <div class='line'>Musical Lurlei; and between</div> + <div class='line'>The hills to Bingen have I been,</div> + <div class='line'>Bingen in Darmstadt, where the Rhene</div> + <div class='line'>Curves towards Mentz, a woody scene.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>III</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Yet never did there meet my sight,</div> + <div class='line'>In any town, to left or right,</div> + <div class='line'>A little room so exquisite,</div> + <div class='line'>With two such couches soft and white;</div> + <div class='line'>Not any room so warm and bright,</div> + <div class='line'>Wherein to read, wherein to write.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_82'></a>XXXVII</h2> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='title'>To Christopher North</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>You did late review my lays,</div> + <div class='line2'>Crusty Christopher;</div> + <div class='line'>You did mingle blame and praise,</div> + <div class='line2'>Rusty Christopher.</div> + <div class='line'>When I learnt from whom it came,</div> + <div class='line'>I forgave you all the blame,</div> + <div class='line2'>Musty Christopher;</div> + <div class='line'>I could <i>not</i> forgive the praise,</div> + <div class='line2'>Fusty Christopher.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>[This epigram was Tennyson's reply to an article by Professor +Wilson—'Christopher North'—in <i>Blackwood's Magazine</i> for May 1832, +dealing in sensible fashion with Tennyson's 1830 volume, and +ridiculing the fulsome praise lavished on him by his inconsiderate +friends—especially referring to Arthur Hallam's article in the +<i>Englishman's Magazine</i> for August, 1831.]</p> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_83'></a>XXXVIII</h2> + +<p><b>The Lotos-Eaters</b></p> + +<p>[These forty lines formed the conclusion to the original (1833) +version of the poem. When the poem was reprinted in the 1842 volumes +these lines were suppressed.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>We have had enough of motion,</div> + <div class='line'>Weariness and wild alarm,</div> + <div class='line'>Tossing on the tossing ocean,</div> + <div class='line'>Where the tuskèd seahorse walloweth</div> + <div class='line'>In a stripe of grassgreen calm,</div> + <div class='line'>At noon-tide beneath the lea;</div> + <div class='line'>And the monstrous narwhale swalloweth</div> + <div class='line'>His foamfountains in the sea.</div> + <div class='line'>Long enough the winedark wave our weary bark did carry.</div> + <div class='line'>This is lovelier and sweeter,</div> + <div class='line'>Men of Ithaca, this is meeter,</div> + <div class='line'>In the hollow rosy vale to tarry,</div> + <div class='line'>Like a dreamy Lotos-eater, a delirious Lotos-eater!</div> + <div class='line'>We will eat the Lotos, sweet</div> + <div class='line'>As the yellow honeycomb,</div> + <div class='line'>In the valley some, and some</div> + <div class='line'>On the ancient heights divine;</div> + <div class='line'>And no more roam,</div><a name='Page_84'></a> + <div class='line'>On the loud hoar foam,</div> + <div class='line'>To the melancholy home</div> + <div class='line'>At the limit of the brine,</div> + <div class='line'>The little isle of Ithaca, beneath the day's decline.</div> + <div class='line'>We'll lift no more the shattered oar,</div> + <div class='line'>No more unfurl the straining sail;</div> + <div class='line'>With the blissful Lotos-eaters pale</div> + <div class='line'>We will abide in the golden vale</div> + <div class='line'>Of the Lotos-land, till the Lotos fail;</div> + <div class='line'>We will not wander more.</div> + <div class='line'>Hark! how sweet the horned ewes bleat</div> + <div class='line'>On the solitary steeps,</div> + <div class='line'>And the merry lizard leaps,</div> + <div class='line'>And the foam-white waters pour;</div> + <div class='line'>And the dark pine weeps,</div> + <div class='line'>And the lithe vine creeps,</div> + <div class='line'>And the heavy melon sleeps</div> + <div class='line'>On the level of the shore:</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! islanders of Ithaca, we will not wander more,</div> + <div class='line'>Surely, surely, slumber is more sweet than toil, the shore</div> + <div class='line'>Than labour in the ocean, and rowing with the oar,</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! islanders of Ithaca, we will return no more.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_85'></a>XXXIX</h2> + +<p><b>A Dream of Fair Women</b></p> + +<p>[In the 1833 volume the poem opened with the following four verses, +suppressed after 1842. These Fitz Gerald considered made 'a perfect +poem by themselves.']</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>As when a man, that sails in a balloon,</div> + <div class='line2'>Downlooking sees the solid shining ground</div> + <div class='line'>Stream from beneath him in the broad blue noon,</div> + <div class='line2'>Tilth, hamlet, mead and mound:</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>And takes his flags and waves them to the mob</div> + <div class='line2'>That shout below, all faces turned to where</div> + <div class='line'>Glows rubylike the far-up crimson globe,</div> + <div class='line2'>Filled with a finer air:</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>So, lifted high, the poet at his will</div> + <div class='line2'>Lets the great world flit from him, seeing all,</div> + <div class='line'>Higher thro' secret splendours mounting still,</div> + <div class='line2'>Self-poised, nor fears to fall.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Hearing apart the echoes of his fame.</div> + <div class='line2'>While I spoke thus, the seedsman, Memory,</div> + <div class='line'>Sowed my deep-furrowed thought with many a name</div> + <div class='line2'>Whose glory will not die.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr /> +<h2><a name='Page_87'></a>Miscellaneous Poems and Contributions to Periodicals<br /> +1833-1868<a name='Page_88'></a></h2> + +<h2><a name='Page_89'></a>XL</h2> + +<p><b>Cambridge</b></p> + +<p>[This poem is written in pencil on the fly-leaf of a copy of <i>Poems</i> +1833 in the Dyce Collection in South Kensington Museum. Reprinted with +many alterations in <i>Life</i>, vol. I, p. 67.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Therefore your halls, your ancient colleges,</div> + <div class='line2'>Your portals statued with old kings and queens,</div> + <div class='line'>Your bridges and your busted libraries,</div> + <div class='line2'>Wax-lighted chapels and rich carved screens,</div> + <div class='line2'>Your doctors and your proctors and your deans</div> + <div class='line'>Shall not avail you when the day-beam sports</div> + <div class='line2'>New-risen o'er awakened Albion—No,</div> + <div class='line2'>Nor yet your solemn organ-pipes that blow</div> + <div class='line'>Melodious thunders through your vacant courts</div> + <div class='line'>At morn and even; for your manner sorts</div> + <div class='line2'>Not with this age, nor with the thoughts that roll,</div> + <div class='line'>Because the words of little children preach</div> + <div class='line'>Against you,—ye that did profess to teach</div> + <div class='line2'>And have taught nothing, feeding on the soul.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_90'></a>XLI</h2> + +<p><b>The Germ of 'Maud'</b></p> + +<p>[There was published in 1837 in <i>The Tribute</i>, (a collection of +original poems by various authors, edited by Lord Northampton), a +contribution by Tennyson entitled 'Stanzas,' consisting of xvi stanzas +of varying lengths (110 lines in all). In 1855 the first xii stanzas +were published as the fourth section of the second part of 'Maud.' +Some verbal changes and transpositions of lines were made; a new +stanza (the present sixth) and several new lines were introduced, and +the xth stanza of 1837 became the xiiith of 1855. But stanzas xiii-xvi +of 1837 have never been reprinted in any edition of Tennyson's works, +though quoted in whole or part in various critical studies of the +poet. Swinburne refers to this poem as 'the poem of deepest charm and +fullest delight of pathos and melody ever written, even by Mr +Tennyson.' This poem in <i>The Tribute</i> gained Tennyson his first notice +in the <i>Edinburgh Review</i>, which had till then ignored him.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='heading'>XIII</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>But she tarries in her place</div> + <div class='line'>And I paint the beauteous face</div> + <div class='line3'>Of the maiden, that I lost,</div> + <div class='line5'>In my inner eyes again,</div> + <div class='line'>Lest my heart be overborne,</div> + <div class='line'>By the thing I hold in scorn,</div> + <div class='line3'>By a dull mechanic ghost</div> + <div class='line5'>And a juggle of the brain.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>XIV</div><a name='Page_91'></a> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>I can shadow forth my bride</div> + <div class='line3'>As I knew her fair and kind</div> + <div class='line5'>r for my wife;</div> + <div class='line'>She is lovely by my side</div> + <div class='line3'>In the silence of my life—</div> + <div class='line5'>'Tis a phantom of the mind.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>XV</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>'Tis a phantom fair and good</div> + <div class='line3'>I can call it to my side,</div> + <div class='line5'>So to guard my life from ill,</div> + <div class='line3'>Tho' its ghastly sister glide</div> + <div class='line5'>And be moved around me still</div> + <div class='line'>With the moving of the blood</div> + <div class='line3'>That is moved not of the will.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>XVI</div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Let it pass, the dreary brow,</div> + <div class='line3'>Let the dismal face go by,</div> + <div class='line'>Will it lead me to the grave?</div> + <div class='line3'>Then I lose it: it will fly:</div> + <div class='line'>Can it overlast the nerves?</div> + <div class='line3'>Can it overlive the eye?</div> + <div class='line'>But the other, like a star,</div> + <div class='line'>Thro' the channel windeth far</div> + <div class='line3'>Till it fade and fail and die,</div> + <div class='line'>To its Archetype that waits</div> + <div class='line'>Clad in light by golden gates,</div> + <div class='line'>Clad in light the Spirit waits</div> + <div class='line3'>To embrace me in the sky.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_92'></a>XLII</h2> + +<p>[On the fly-leaf of a book illustrated by Bewick, in the library of +the late Lord Ravensworth, the following lines in Tennyson's autograph +were discovered in 1903.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>A gate and a field half ploughed,</div> + <div class='line'>A solitary cow,</div> + <div class='line'>A child with a broken slate,</div> + <div class='line'>And a titmarsh in the bough.</div> + <div class='line'>But where, alack, is Bewick</div> + <div class='line'>To tell the meaning now?</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_93'></a>XLIII</h2> + +<p><b>The Skipping-Rope</b></p> + +<p>[This poem, published in the second volume of <i>Poems by Alfred +Tennyson</i> (in two volumes, London, Edward Moxon, MDCCCXLII), was +reprinted in every edition until 1851, when it was suppressed.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Sure never yet was Antelope</div> + <div class='line2'>Could skip so lightly by.</div> + <div class='line'>Stand off, or else my skipping-rope</div> + <div class='line2'>Will hit you in the eye.</div> + <div class='line'>How lightly whirls the skipping-rope!</div> + <div class='line2'>How fairy-like you fly!</div> + <div class='line'>Go, get you gone, you muse and mope—</div> + <div class='line2'>I hate that silly sigh.</div> + <div class='line'>Nay, dearest, teach me how to hope,</div> + <div class='line2'>Or tell me how to die.</div> + <div class='line'>There, take it, take my skipping-rope</div> + <div class='line2'>And hang yourself thereby.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_94'></a>XLIV</h2> + +<p><b>The New Timon and the Poets</b></p> + +<p>[From <i>Punch</i>, February 28, 1846. Bulwer Lytton published in 1845 his +satirical poem 'New Timon: a Romance of London,' in which he bitterly +attacked Tennyson for the civil list pension granted the previous +year, particularly referring to the poem 'O Darling Room' in the 1833 +volume. Tennyson replied in the following vigorous verses, which made +the literary sensation of the year. Tennyson afterwards declared: 'I +never sent my lines to <i>Punch</i>. John Forster did. They were too +bitter. I do not think that I should ever have published +them.'—<i>Life</i>, vol. I, p. 245.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>We know him, out of Shakespeare's art,</div> + <div class='line2'>And those fine curses which he spoke;</div> + <div class='line'>The old Timon, with his noble heart,</div> + <div class='line2'>That, strongly loathing, greatly broke.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>So died the Old: here comes the New:</div> + <div class='line2'>Regard him: a familiar face:</div> + <div class='line'>I <i>thought</i> we knew him: What, it's you</div> + <div class='line2'>The padded man—that wears the stays—</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Who killed the girls and thrill'd the boys</div> + <div class='line2'>With dandy pathos when you wrote,</div> + <div class='line'>A Lion, you, that made a noise,</div> + <div class='line2'>And shook a mane en papillotes.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>And once you tried the Muses too:</div><a name='Page_95'></a> + <div class='line2'>You fail'd, Sir: therefore now you turn,</div> + <div class='line'>You fall on those who are to you</div> + <div class='line2'>As captain is to subaltern.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>But men of long enduring hopes,</div> + <div class='line2'>And careless what this hour may bring,</div> + <div class='line'>Can pardon little would-be Popes</div> + <div class='line2'>And Brummels, when they try to sting.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>An artist, Sir, should rest in art,</div> + <div class='line2'>And wave a little of his claim;</div> + <div class='line'>To have the deep poetic heart</div> + <div class='line2'>Is more than all poetic fame.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>But you, Sir, you are hard to please;</div> + <div class='line2'>You never look but half content:</div> + <div class='line'>Nor like a gentleman at ease</div> + <div class='line2'>With moral breadth of temperament.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>And what with spites and what with fears,</div> + <div class='line2'>You cannot let a body be:</div> + <div class='line'>It's always ringing in your ears,</div> + <div class='line2'>'They call this man as good as <i>me</i>.'</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>What profits now to understand</div> + <div class='line2'>The merits of a spotless shirt—</div> + <div class='line'>A dapper boot—a little hand—</div> + <div class='line2'>If half the little soul is dirt?</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'><i>You</i> talk of tinsel! why we see</div><a name='Page_96'></a> + <div class='line2'>The old mark of rouge upon your cheeks.</div> + <div class='line'><i>You</i> prate of nature! you are he</div> + <div class='line'>That spilt his life about the cliques.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>A Timon you! Nay, nay, for shame:</div> + <div class='line2'>It looks too arrogant a jest—</div> + <div class='line'>The fierce old man—to take <i>his</i> name</div> + <div class='line'>You bandbox. Off, and let him rest.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_97'></a>XLV</h2> + +<p><b>Mablethorpe</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>Manchester Athænaum Album</i>, 1850. Written, 1837. +Republished, altered, in <i>Life</i>, vol. I, p. 161.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>How often, when a child I lay reclined,</div> + <div class='line2'>I took delight in this locality!</div> + <div class='line'>Here stood the infant Ilion of the mind,</div> + <div class='line2'>And here the Grecian ships did seem to be.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>And here again I come and only find</div> + <div class='line2'>The drain-cut levels of the marshy lea,—</div> + <div class='line'>Gray sand banks and pale sunsets—dreary wind,</div> + <div class='line2'>Dim shores, dense rains, and heavy clouded sea.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_98'></a>XLVI</h2> + +<p>[Published in <i>The Keepsake for 1851: an illustrated annual</i>, edited +by Miss Power. London: David Bogue. To this issue of the Keepsake +Tennyson also contributed 'Come not when I am dead' now included in +the collected Works.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>What time I wasted youthful hours</div> + <div class='line'>One of the shining wingèd powers,</div> + <div class='line'>Show'd me vast cliffs with crown of towers,</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>As towards the gracious light I bow'd,</div> + <div class='line'>They seem'd high palaces and proud,</div> + <div class='line'>Hid now and then with sliding cloud.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>He said, 'The labour is not small;</div> + <div class='line'>Yet winds the pathway free to all:—</div> + <div class='line'>Take care thou dost not fear to fall!'</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_99'></a>XLVII</h2> + +<p><b>Britons, Guard your Own</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>The Examiner</i>, January 31, 1852. Verses 1 (considerably +altered), 7, 8 and 10, are reprinted in Life, vol. I, p. 344.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Rise, Britons, rise, if manhood be not dead;</div> + <div class='line'>The world's last tempest darkens overhead;</div> + <div class='line4'>The Pope has bless'd him;</div> + <div class='line4'>The Church caress'd him;</div> + <div class='line'>He triumphs; maybe, we shall stand alone:</div> + <div class='line4'>Britons, guard your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>His ruthless host is bought with plunder'd gold,</div> + <div class='line'>By lying priest's the peasant's votes controlled.</div> + <div class='line4'>All freedom vanish'd,</div> + <div class='line4'>The true men banished,</div> + <div class='line'>He triumphs; maybe, we shall stand alone.</div> + <div class='line4'>Britons, guard your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Peace-lovers we—sweet Peace we all desire—</div> + <div class='line'>Peace-lovers we—but who can trust a liar?—</div> + <div class='line4'>Peace-lovers, haters</div> + <div class='line4'>Of shameless traitors,</div> + <div class='line'>We hate not France, but this man's heart of stone.</div> + <div class='line4'>Britons, guard your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>We hate not France, but France has lost her voice</div><a name='Page_100'></a> + <div class='line'>This man is France, the man they call her choice.</div> + <div class='line4'>By tricks and spying,</div> + <div class='line4'>By craft and lying,</div> + <div class='line'>And murder was her freedom overthrown.</div> + <div class='line4'>Britons, guard your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>'Vive l'Empereur' may follow by and bye;</div> + <div class='line'>'God save the Queen' is here a truer cry.</div> + <div class='line4'>God save the Nation,</div> + <div class='line4'>The toleration,</div> + <div class='line'>And the free speech that makes a Briton known.</div> + <div class='line4'>Britons, guard your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Rome's dearest daughter now is captive France,</div> + <div class='line'>The Jesuit laughs, and reckoning on his chance,</div> + <div class='line4'>Would, unrelenting,</div> + <div class='line4'>Kill all dissenting,</div> + <div class='line'>Till we were left to fight for truth alone.</div> + <div class='line4'>Britons, guard your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Call home your ships across Biscayan tides,</div> + <div class='line'>To blow the battle from their oaken sides.</div> + <div class='line4'>Why waste they yonder</div> + <div class='line4'>Their idle thunder?</div> + <div class='line'>Why stay they there to guard a foreign throne?</div> + <div class='line4'>Seamen, guard your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>We were the best of marksmen long ago,</div><a name='Page_101'></a> + <div class='line'>We won old battles with our strength, the bow.</div> + <div class='line4'>Now practise, yeomen,</div> + <div class='line4'>Like those bowmen,</div> + <div class='line'>Till your balls fly as their true shafts have flown.</div> + <div class='line4'>Yeomen, guard your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>His soldier-ridden Highness might incline</div> + <div class='line'>To take Sardinia, Belgium, or the Rhine:</div> + <div class='line4'>Shall we stand idle,</div> + <div class='line4'>Nor seek to bridle</div> + <div class='line'>His vile aggressions, till we stand alone?</div> + <div class='line4'>Make their cause your own.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Should he land here, and for one hour prevail,</div> + <div class='line'>There must no man go back to bear the tale:</div> + <div class='line4'>No man to bear it—</div> + <div class='line4'>Swear it! We swear it!</div> + <div class='line'>Although we fought the banded world alone,</div> + <div class='line4'>We swear to guard our own.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_102'></a>XLVIII</h2> + +<p><b>Hands all Round</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>The Examiner</i>, February 7, 1852. Reprinted, slightly +altered, in Life, vol. I, p. 345. Included, almost entirely +re-written, in collected Works.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>First drink a health, this solemn night,</div> + <div class='line2'>A health to England, every guest;</div> + <div class='line'>That man's the best cosmopolite</div> + <div class='line2'>Who loves his native country best.</div> + <div class='line'>May Freedom's oak for ever live</div> + <div class='line2'>With stronger life from day to day;</div> + <div class='line'>That man's the best Conservative</div> + <div class='line2'>Who lops the mouldered branch away.</div> + <div class='line5'>Hands all round!</div> + <div class='line'>God the tyrant's hope confound!</div> + <div class='line'>To this great cause of Freedom drink, my friends,</div> + <div class='line2'>And the great name of England round and round.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>A health to Europe's honest men!</div> + <div class='line2'>Heaven guard them from her tyrants' jails!</div> + <div class='line'>From wronged Poerio's noisome den,</div> + <div class='line2'>From iron limbs and tortured nails!</div> + <div class='line'>We curse the crimes of Southern kings,</div> + <div class='line2'>The Russian whips and Austrian rods—</div> + <div class='line'>We likewise have our evil things;</div> + <div class='line2'>Too much we make our Ledgers, Gods.</div> + <div class='line5'>Yet hands all round!</div> + <div class='line2'>God the tyrant's cause confound!</div><a name='Page_103'></a> + <div class='line'>To Europe's better health we drink, my friends,</div> + <div class='line2'>And the great name of England round and round.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>What health to France, if France be she</div> + <div class='line2'>Whom martial progress only charms?</div> + <div class='line'>Yet tell her—better to be free</div> + <div class='line2'>Than vanquish all the world in arms.</div> + <div class='line'>Her frantic city's flashing heats</div> + <div class='line2'>But fire, to blast the hopes of men.</div> + <div class='line'>Why change the titles of your streets?</div> + <div class='line2'>You fools, you'll want them all again.</div> + <div class='line5'>Hands all round!</div> + <div class='line2'>God the tyrant's cause confound!</div> + <div class='line'>To France, the wiser France, we drink, my friends,</div> + <div class='line2'>And the great name of England round and round.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Gigantic daughter of the West,</div> + <div class='line2'>We drink to thee across the flood,</div> + <div class='line'>We know thee most, we love thee best,</div> + <div class='line2'>For art thou not of British blood?</div> + <div class='line'>Should war's mad blast again be blown,</div> + <div class='line2'>Permit not thou the tyrant powers</div> + <div class='line'>To fight thy mother here alone,</div> + <div class='line2'>But let thy broadsides roar with ours.</div> + <div class='line5'>Hands all round!</div> + <div class='line2'>God the tyrant's cause confound!</div><a name='Page_104'></a> + <div class='line'>To our great kinsmen of the West, my friends,</div> + <div class='line2'>And the great name of England round and round.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O rise, our strong Atlantic sons,</div> + <div class='line2'>When war against our freedom springs!</div> + <div class='line'>O speak to Europe through your guns!</div> + <div class='line'>They <i>can</i> be understood by kings.</div> + <div class='line'>You must not mix our Queen with those</div> + <div class='line2'>That wish to keep their people fools;</div> + <div class='line'>Our freedom's foemen are her foes,</div> + <div class='line2'>She comprehends the race she rules.</div> + <div class='line5'>Hands all round!</div> + <div class='line2'>God the tyrant's cause confound!</div> + <div class='line'>To our dear kinsmen of the West, my friends,</div> + <div class='line2'>And the great name of England round and round.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_105'></a>XLIX</h2> + +<p><b>Suggested by Reading an Article in a Newspaper</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>The Examiner</i>, February 14, 1852, and never reprinted +nor acknowledged. The proof sheets of the poem, with alterations in +Tennyson's autograph, were offered for public sale in 1906.]</p> + +<p>To the Editor of <i>The Examiner</i>.</p> + +<p>SIR,—I have read with much interest the poems of Merlin. The enclosed +is longer than either of those, and certainly not so good: yet as I +flatter myself that it has a smack of Merlin's style in it, and as I +feel that it expresses forcibly enough some of the feelings of our +time, perhaps you may be induced to admit it.</p> + +<p>TALIESSEN.</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>How much I love this writer's manly style!</div> + <div class='line2'>By such men led, our press had ever been</div> + <div class='line'>The public conscience of our noble isle,</div> + <div class='line2'>Severe and quick to feel a civic sin,</div> + <div class='line'>To raise the people and chastise the times</div> + <div class='line'>With such a heat as lives in great creative rhymes.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O you, the Press! what good from you might spring!</div> + <div class='line2'>What power is yours to blast a cause or bless!</div> + <div class='line'>I fear for you, as for some youthful king,</div> + <div class='line2'>Lest you go wrong from power in excess.</div> + <div class='line'>Take heed of your wide privileges! we</div> + <div class='line'>The thinking men of England, loathe a tyranny.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>A freeman is, I doubt not, freest here;</div><a name='Page_106'></a> + <div class='line2'>The single voice may speak his mind aloud;</div> + <div class='line'>An honest isolation need not fear</div> + <div class='line2'>The Court, the Church, the Parliament, the crowd.</div> + <div class='line'>No, nor the Press! and look you well to that—</div> + <div class='line'>We must not dread in you the nameless autocrat.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>And you, dark Senate of the public pen,</div> + <div class='line2'>You may not, like yon tyrant, deal in spies.</div> + <div class='line'>Yours are the public acts of public men,</div> + <div class='line2'>But yours are not their household privacies.</div> + <div class='line'>I grant you one of the great Powers on earth,</div> + <div class='line'>But be not you the blatant traitors of the hearth.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>You hide the hand that writes: it must be so,</div> + <div class='line2'>For better so you fight for public ends;</div> + <div class='line'>But some you strike can scarce return the blow;</div> + <div class='line2'>You should be all the nobler, O my friends.</div> + <div class='line'>Be noble, you! nor work with faction's tools</div> + <div class='line'>To charm a lower sphere of fulminating fools.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>But knowing all your power to heat or cool,</div> + <div class='line2'>To soothe a civic wound or keep it raw,</div> + <div class='line'>Be loyal, if you wish for wholesome rule:</div> + <div class='line2'>Our ancient boast is this—we reverence law.</div> + <div class='line'>We still were loyal in our wildest fights,</div> + <div class='line'>Or loyally disloyal battled for our rights.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O Grief and Shame if while I preach of laws</div><a name='Page_107'></a> + <div class='line2'>Whereby to guard our Freedom from offence—</div> + <div class='line'>And trust an ancient manhood and the cause</div> + <div class='line2'>Of England and her health of commonsense—</div> + <div class='line'>There hang within the heavens a dark disgrace,</div> + <div class='line'>Some vast Assyrian doom to burst upon our race.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>I feel the thousand cankers of our State,</div> + <div class='line2'>I fain would shake their triple-folded ease,</div> + <div class='line'>The hogs who can believe in nothing great,</div> + <div class='line2'>Sneering bedridden in the down of Peace</div> + <div class='line'>Over their scrips and shares, their meats and wine,</div> + <div class='line'>With stony smirks at all things human and divine!</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>I honour much, I say, this man's appeal.</div> + <div class='line2'>We drag so deep in our commercial mire,</div> + <div class='line'>We move so far from greatness, that I feel</div> + <div class='line2'>Exception to be character'd in fire.</div> + <div class='line'>Who looks for Godlike greatness here shall see</div> + <div class='line'>The British Goddess, sleek Respectability.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Alas for her and all her small delights!</div> + <div class='line2'>She feels not how the social frame is rack'd.</div> + <div class='line'>She loves a little scandal which excites;</div> + <div class='line2'>A little feeling is a want of tact.</div> + <div class='line'>For her there lie in wait millions of foes,</div> + <div class='line'>And yet the 'not too much' is all the rule she knows.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Poor soul! behold her: what decorous calm!</div><a name='Page_108'></a> + <div class='line2'>She, with her week-day worldliness sufficed,</div> + <div class='line'>Stands in her pew and hums her decent psalm</div> + <div class='line2'>With decent dippings at the name of Christ!</div> + <div class='line'>And she has mov'd in that smooth way so long,</div> + <div class='line'>She hardly can believe that she shall suffer wrong.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Alas, our Church! alas, her growing ills,</div> + <div class='line2'>And those who tolerate not her tolerance,</div> + <div class='line'>But needs must sell the burthen of their wills</div> + <div class='line2'>To that half-pagan harlot kept by France!</div> + <div class='line'>Free subjects of the kindliest of all thrones,</div> + <div class='line'>Headlong they plunge their doubts among old rags and bones.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Alas, Church writers, altercating tribes—</div> + <div class='line2'>The vessel and your Church may sink in storms.</div> + <div class='line'>Christ cried: Woe, woe, to Pharisees and Scribes!</div> + <div class='line2'>Like them, you bicker less for truth than forms.</div> + <div class='line'>I sorrow when I read the things you write,</div> + <div class='line'>What unheroic pertness! what un-Christian spite!</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Alas, our youth, so clever yet so small,</div> + <div class='line2'>Thin dilletanti deep in nature's plan,</div> + <div class='line'>Who make the emphatic One, by whom is all,</div> + <div class='line2'>An essence less concentred than a man!</div> + <div class='line'>Better wild Mahmoud's war-cry once again!</div> + <div class='line'>O fools, we want a manlike God and Godlike men!</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Go, frightful omens. Yet once more I turn</div><a name='Page_109'></a> + <div class='line2'>To you that mould men's thoughts; I call on you</div> + <div class='line'>To make opinion warlike, lest we learn</div> + <div class='line2'>A sharper lesson than we ever knew.</div> + <div class='line'>I hear a thunder though the skies are fair,</div> + <div class='line'>But shrill you, loud and long, the warning-note:</div> + <div class='line3'>Prepare!</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_110'></a>L</h2> + +<p>[Lord Tennyson wrote, by Royal request, two stanzas which were sung as +part of <i>God Save the Queen</i> at a State concert in connection with the +Princess Royal's marriage: these were printed in the <i>Times</i> of +January 26, 1858.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>God bless our Prince and Bride!</div> + <div class='line'>God keep their lands allied,</div> + <div class='line2'>God save the Queen!</div> + <div class='line'>Clothe them with righteousness,</div> + <div class='line'>Crown them with happiness,</div> + <div class='line'>Them with all blessings bless,</div> + <div class='line2'>God save the Queen.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Fair fall this hallow'd hour,</div> + <div class='line'>Farewell our England's flower,</div> + <div class='line2'>God save the Queen!</div> + <div class='line'>Farewell, fair rose of May!</div> + <div class='line'>Let both the peoples say,</div> + <div class='line'>God bless thy marriage-day,</div> + <div class='line2'>God bless the Queen.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_111'></a>LI</h2> + +<p><b>The Ringlet</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>Enoch Arden</i> volume (London: E. Moxon & Co, 1864) and +never reprinted.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>'Your ringlets, your ringlets,</div> + <div class='line2'>That look so golden-gay,</div> + <div class='line'>If you will give me one, but one,</div> + <div class='line2'>To kiss it night and day,</div> + <div class='line'>Then never chilling touch of Time</div> + <div class='line2'>Will turn it silver-gray;</div> + <div class='line'>And then shall I know it is all true gold</div> + <div class='line'>To flame and sparkle and stream as of old,</div> + <div class='line'>Till all the comets in heaven are cold,</div> + <div class='line2'>And all her stars decay.'</div> + <div class='line'>'Then take it, love, and put it by;</div> + <div class='line'>This cannot change, nor yet can I.'</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>'My ringlet, my ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>That art so golden-gay,</div> + <div class='line'>Now never chilling touch of Time</div> + <div class='line2'>Can turn thee silver-gray;</div> + <div class='line'>And a lad may wink, and a girl may hint,</div> + <div class='line2'>And a fool may say his say;</div> + <div class='line'>For my doubts and fears were all amiss,</div><a name='Page_112'></a> + <div class='line'>And I swear henceforth by this and this,</div> + <div class='line'>That a doubt will only come for a kiss,</div> + <div class='line2'>And a fear to be kissed away.'</div> + <div class='line'>'Then kiss it, love, and put it by:</div> + <div class='line'>If this can change, why so can I.'</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>I kiss'd you night and day,</div> + <div class='line'>And Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>You still are golden-gay,</div> + <div class='line'>But Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>You should be silver-gray:</div> + <div class='line'>For what is this which now I'm told,</div> + <div class='line'>I that took you for true gold,</div> + <div class='line'>She that gave you's bought and sold,</div> + <div class='line5'>Sold, sold.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>She blush'd a rosy red,</div> + <div class='line'>When Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>She clipt you from her head,</div> + <div class='line'>And Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>She gave you me, and said,</div> + <div class='line'>'Come, kiss it, love, and put it by:</div> + <div class='line'>If this can change, why so can I.'</div> + <div class='line'>O fie, you golden nothing, fie</div> + <div class='line5'>You golden lie.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>O Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div><a name='Page_113'></a> + <div class='line2'>I count you much to blame,</div> + <div class='line'>For Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>You put me much to shame,</div> + <div class='line'>So Ringlet, O Ringlet,</div> + <div class='line2'>I doom you to the flame.</div> + <div class='line'>For what is this which now I learn,</div> + <div class='line'>Has given all my faith a turn?</div> + <div class='line'>Burn, you glossy heretic, burn,</div> + <div class='line5'>Burn, burn.</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_114'></a>LII</h2> + +<p><b>Song</b></p> + +<p>[This first form of the Song in <i>The Princess</i> ('Home they brought her +warrior dead') was published only in <i>Selections from Tennyson</i>. +London: E. Moxon & Co, 1864.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Home they brought him slain with spears.</div> + <div class='line2'>They brought him home at even-fall:</div> + <div class='line'>All alone she sits and hears</div> + <div class='line2'>Echoes in his empty hall,</div> + <div class='line3'>Sounding on the morrow.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The Sun peeped in from open field,</div> + <div class='line2'>The boy began to leap and prance,</div> + <div class='line2'>Rode upon his father's lance,</div> + <div class='line'>Beat upon his father's shield—</div> + <div class='line3'>'Oh hush, my joy, my sorrow.'</div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class='section' /> +<h2><a name='Page_115'></a>LIII</h2> + +<p><b>1865-1866</b></p> + +<p>[Published in <i>Good Words</i> for March 1, 1868 as a decorative page, +with an accompanying full page plate by T. Dalziel. The lines were +never reprinted.]</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>I stood on a tower in the wet,</div> + <div class='line'>And New Year and Old Year met,</div> + <div class='line'>And winds were roaring and blowing;</div> + <div class='line'>And I said, 'O years that meet in tears,</div> + <div class='line'>Have ye aught that is worth the knowing?</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>'Science enough and exploring</div> + <div class='line'>Wanderers coming and going</div> + <div class='line'>Matter enough for deploring</div> + <div class='line'>But aught that is worth the knowing?'</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Seas at my feet were flowing</div> + <div class='line'>Waves on the shingle pouring,</div> + <div class='line'>Old Year roaring and blowing</div> + <div class='line'>And New Year blowing and roaring.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2><a name='Page_116'></a><a name='Page_117'></a>The Lover's Tale<br /> +1833</h2> + +<p><a name='Page_118'></a>[It was originally intended by Tennyson that this poem should +form part of his 1833 volume. It was put in type and, according to +custom, copies were distributed among his friends, when, on the eve of +publication, he decided to omit it. Again, in 1869, it was sent to +press with a new third part added, and was again withdrawn, the third +part only—'The Golden Supper,' founded on a story in Boccaccio's +<i>Decameron</i>—being published in the volume, 'The Holy Grail.' In 1866, +1870 and 1875, attempts had been made by Mr Herne Shepherd to publish +editions of 'The Lover's Tale,' reprinted from stray proof copies of +the 1833 printing. Each of these attempts was repressed by Tennyson, +and at last in 1879 the complete poem, as now included in the +collected Works, was issued, with an apologetic reference to the +necessity of reprinting the poem to prevent its circulation in an +unauthorised form. But the 1879 issue is considerably altered from the +original issue of 1833, as written by Tennyson in his nineteenth year. +Since only as a product of Tennyson's youth does the poem merit any +attention, it has seemed good to reprint it here as originally +written.]</p> + +<p><a name='Page_119'></a><b><br />A FRAGMENT</b></p> + +<p>The Poem of the Lover's Tale (the lover is supposed to be himself a +poet) was written in my nineteenth year, and consequently contains +nearly as many faults as words. That I deemed it not wholly unoriginal +is my only apology for its publication—an apology lame and poor, and +somewhat impertinent to boot: so that if its infirmities meet with +more laughter than charity in the world, I shall not raise my voice in +its defence. I am aware how deficient the Poem is in point of art, and +it is not without considerable misgivings that I have ventured to +publish even this fragment of it. 'Enough,' says the old proverb, 'is +as good as a feast.'—(Tennyson's original introductory note.)</p> + +<div class='poem'> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Here far away, seen from the topmost cliff,</div> + <div class='line'>Filling with purple gloom the vacancies</div> + <div class='line'>Between the tufted hills the sloping seas</div> + <div class='line'>Hung in mid-heaven, and half-way down rare sails,</div> + <div class='line'>White as white clouds, floated from sky to sky.</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! pleasant breast of waters, quiet bay,</div> + <div class='line'>Like to a quiet mind in the loud world,</div> + <div class='line'>Where the chafed breakers of the outer sea</div> + <div class='line'>Sunk powerless, even as anger falls aside,</div> + <div class='line'>And withers on the breast of peaceful love,</div> + <div class='line'>Thou didst receive that belt of pines, that fledged</div> + <div class='line'>The hills that watch'd thee, as Love watcheth Love,—</div> + <div class='line'>In thine own essence, and delight thyself</div><a name='Page_120'></a> + <div class='line'>To make it wholly thine on sunny days.</div> + <div class='line'>Keep thou thy name of 'Lover's bay': See, Sirs,</div> + <div class='line'>Even now the Goddess of the Past, that takes</div> + <div class='line'>The heart, and sometimes toucheth but one string,</div> + <div class='line'>That quivers, and is silent, and sometimes</div> + <div class='line'>Sweeps suddenly all its half-moulder'd chords</div> + <div class='line'>To an old melody, begins to play</div> + <div class='line'>On those first-moved fibres of the brain.</div> + <div class='line'>I come, Great mistress of the ear and eye:</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! lead me tenderly, for fear the mind</div> + <div class='line'>Rain thro' my sight, and strangling sorrow weigh</div> + <div class='line'>Mine utterance with lameness. Tho' long years</div> + <div class='line'>Have hallowed out a valley and a gulf</div> + <div class='line'>Betwixt the native land of Love and me,</div> + <div class='line'>Breathe but a little on me, and the sail</div> + <div class='line'>Will draw me to the rising of the sun,</div> + <div class='line'>The lucid chambers of the morning star,</div> + <div class='line'>And East of life.</div> + <div class='line10'>Permit me, friend, I prithee,</div> + <div class='line'>To pass my hand across my brows, and muse</div> + <div class='line'>On those dear hills, that nevermore will meet</div> + <div class='line'>The sight that throbs and aches beneath my touch,</div> + <div class='line'>As tho' there beat a heart in either eye;</div> + <div class='line'>For when the outer lights are darken'd thus,</div> + <div class='line'>The memory's vision hath a keener edge.</div> + <div class='line'>It grows upon me now—the semicircle</div> + <div class='line'>Of dark blue waters and the narrow fringe</div> + <div class='line'>Of curving beach—its wreaths of dripping green—</div> + <div class='line'>Its pale pink shells—the summer-house aloft</div> + <div class='line'>That open'd on the pines with doors of glass,</div><a name='Page_121'></a> + <div class='line'>A mountain nest the pleasure boat that rock'd</div> + <div class='line'>Light-green with its own shadow, keel to keel,</div> + <div class='line'>Upon the crispings of the dappled waves</div> + <div class='line'>That blanched upon its side.</div> + <div class='line12'>O Love, O Hope,</div> + <div class='line'>They come, they crowd upon me all at once,</div> + <div class='line'>Moved from the cloud of unforgotten things,</div> + <div class='line'>That sometimes on the horizon of the mind</div> + <div class='line'>Lies folded—often sweeps athwart in storm—</div> + <div class='line'>They flash across the darkness of my brain,</div> + <div class='line'>The many pleasant days, the moolit nights,</div> + <div class='line'>The dewy dawnings and the amber eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>When thou and I, Camilla, thou and I</div> + <div class='line'>Were borne about the bay, or safely moor'd</div> + <div class='line'>Beneath some low brow'd cavern, where the wave</div> + <div class='line'>Plash'd sapping its worn ribs (the while without,</div> + <div class='line'>And close above us, sang the wind-tost pine,</div> + <div class='line'>And shook its earthly socket, for we heard,</div> + <div class='line'>In rising and in falling with the tide,</div> + <div class='line'>Close by our ears, the huge roots strain and creak),</div> + <div class='line'>Eye feeding upon eye with deep intent;</div> + <div class='line'>And mine, with love too high to be express'd</div> + <div class='line'>Arrested in its sphere, and ceasing from</div> + <div class='line'>All contemplation of all forms, did pause</div> + <div class='line'>To worship mine own image, laved in light,</div> + <div class='line'>The centre of the splendours, all unworthy</div> + <div class='line'>Of such a shrine—mine image in her eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>By diminution made most glorious,</div><a name='Page_122'></a> + <div class='line'>Moved with their motions, as those eyes were moved</div> + <div class='line'>With motions of the soul, as my heart beat</div> + <div class='line'>Twice to the melody of hers. Her face</div> + <div class='line'>Was starry-fair, not pale, tenderly flush'd</div> + <div class='line'>As 'twere with dawn. She was dark-hair'd, dark-eyed;</div> + <div class='line'>Oh, such dark eyes! A single glance of them</div> + <div class='line'>Will govern a whole life from birth to death,</div> + <div class='line'>Careless of all things else, led on with light</div> + <div class='line'>In trances and in visions: look at them,</div> + <div class='line'>You lose yourself in utter ignorance,</div> + <div class='line'>You cannot find their depth; for they go back,</div> + <div class='line'>And farther back, and still withdraw themselves</div> + <div class='line'>Quite into the deep soul, that evermore,</div> + <div class='line'>Fresh springing from her fountains in the brain,</div> + <div class='line'>Still pouring thro', floods with redundant light</div> + <div class='line'>Her narrow portals.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line12'>Trust me, long ago</div> + <div class='line'>I should have died, if it were possible</div> + <div class='line'>To die in gazing on that perfectness</div> + <div class='line'>Which I do bear within me; I had died</div> + <div class='line'>But from my farthest lapse, my latest ebb,</div> + <div class='line'>Thine image, like a charm of light and strength</div> + <div class='line'>Upon the waters, pushed me back again</div> + <div class='line'>On these deserted sands of barren life.</div> + <div class='line'>Tho' from the deep vault, where the heart of hope</div> + <div class='line'>Fell into dust, and crumbled in the dark—</div><a name='Page_123'></a> + <div class='line'>Forgetting who to render beautiful</div> + <div class='line'>Her countenance with quick and healthful blood—</div> + <div class='line'>Thou didst not sway me upward, could I perish</div> + <div class='line'>With such a costly casket in the grasp</div> + <div class='line'>Of memory? He, that saith it, hath o'erstepp'd</div> + <div class='line'>The slippery footing of his narrow wit,</div> + <div class='line'>And fall'n away from judgment. Thou art light,</div> + <div class='line'>To which my spirit leaneth all her flowers,</div> + <div class='line'>And length of days, and immortality</div> + <div class='line'>Of thought, and freshness ever self-renew'd.</div> + <div class='line'>For Time and Grief abode too long with Life,</div> + <div class='line'>And like all other friends i' the world, at last</div> + <div class='line'>They grew aweary of her fellowship:</div> + <div class='line'>So Time and Grief did beckon unto Death,</div> + <div class='line'>And Death drew nigh and beat the doors of Life;</div> + <div class='line'>But thou didst sit alone in the inner house,</div> + <div class='line'>A wakeful port'ress and didst parle with Death,</div> + <div class='line'>'This is a charmed dwelling which I hold';</div> + <div class='line'>So Death gave back, and would no further come.</div> + <div class='line'>Yet is my life nor in the present time,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor in the present place. To me alone,</div> + <div class='line'>Pushed from his chair of regal heritage,</div> + <div class='line'>The Present is the vassal of the Past:</div> + <div class='line'>So that, in that I <i>have</i> lived, do I live,</div> + <div class='line'>And cannot die, and am, in having been,</div> + <div class='line'>A portion of the pleasant yesterday,</div> + <div class='line'>Thrust forward on to-day and out of place;</div> + <div class='line'>A body journeying onward, sick with toil,</div> + <div class='line'>The lithe limbs bow'd as with a heavy weight</div> + <div class='line'>And all the senses weaken'd in all save that</div><a name='Page_124'></a> + <div class='line'>Which, long ago, they had glean'd and garner'd up</div> + <div class='line'>Into the granaries of memory—</div> + <div class='line'>The clear brow, bulwark of the precious brain,</div> + <div class='line'>Now seam'd and chink'd with years—and all the while</div> + <div class='line'>The light soul twines and mingles with the growths</div> + <div class='line'>Of vigorous early days, attracted, won,</div> + <div class='line'>Married, made one with, molten into all</div> + <div class='line'>The beautiful in Past of act or place.</div> + <div class='line'>Even as the all-enduring camel, driven</div> + <div class='line'>Far from the diamond fountain by the palms,</div> + <div class='line'>Toils onward thro' the middle moonlight nights,</div> + <div class='line'>Shadow'd and crimson'd with the drifting dust,</div> + <div class='line'>Or when the white heats of the blinding noons</div> + <div class='line'>Beat from the concave sand; yet in him keeps</div> + <div class='line'>A draught of that sweet fountain that he loves,</div> + <div class='line'>To stay his feet from falling, and his spirit</div> + <div class='line'>From bitterness of death.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line12'>Ye ask me, friends,</div> + <div class='line'>When I began to love. How should I tell ye?</div> + <div class='line'>Or from the after fulness of my heart,</div> + <div class='line'>Flow back again unto my slender spring</div> + <div class='line'>And first of love, tho' every turn and depth</div> + <div class='line'>Between is clearer in my life than all</div> + <div class='line'>Its present flow. Ye know not what ye ask.</div> + <div class='line'>How should the broad and open flower tell</div> + <div class='line'>What sort of bud it was, when press'd together</div> + <div class='line'>In its green sheath, close lapt in silken folds?</div><a name='Page_125'></a> + <div class='line'>It seemed to keep its sweetness to itself,</div> + <div class='line'>Yet was not the less sweet for that it seem'd.</div> + <div class='line'>For young Life knows not when young Life was born,</div> + <div class='line'>But takes it all for granted: neither Love,</div> + <div class='line'>Warm in the heart, his cradle can remember</div> + <div class='line'>Love in the womb, but resteth satisfied,</div> + <div class='line'>Looking on her that brought him to the light:</div> + <div class='line'>Or as men know not when they fall asleep</div> + <div class='line'>Into delicious dreams, our other life,</div> + <div class='line'>So know I not when I began to love.</div> + <div class='line'>This is my sum of knowledge—that my love</div> + <div class='line'>Grew with myself—and say rather, was my growth,</div> + <div class='line'>My inward sap, the hold I have on earth,</div> + <div class='line'>My outward circling air wherein I breathe,</div> + <div class='line'>Which yet upholds my life, and evermore</div> + <div class='line'>Was to me daily life and daily death:</div> + <div class='line'>For how should I have lived and not have loved?</div> + <div class='line'>Can ye take off the sweetness from the flower,</div> + <div class='line'>The colour and the sweetness from the rose,</div> + <div class='line'>And place them by themselves? or set apart</div> + <div class='line'>Their motions and their brightness from the stars,</div> + <div class='line'>And then point out the flower or the star?</div> + <div class='line'>Or build a wall betwixt my life and love,</div> + <div class='line'>And tell me where I am? 'Tis even thus:</div> + <div class='line'>In that I live I love; because I love</div> + <div class='line'>I live: whate'er is fountain to the one</div> + <div class='line'>Is fountain to the other; and whene'er</div> + <div class='line'>Our God unknits the riddle of the one,</div><a name='Page_126'></a> + <div class='line'>There is no shade or fold of mystery</div> + <div class='line'>Swathing the other.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line12'>Many, many years,</div> + <div class='line'>For they seem many and my most of life,</div> + <div class='line'>And well I could have linger'd in that porch,</div> + <div class='line'>So unproportioned to the dwelling place,</div> + <div class='line'>In the maydews of childhood, opposite</div> + <div class='line'>The flush and dawn of youth, we lived together,</div> + <div class='line'>Apart, alone together on those hills.</div> + <div class='line'>Before he saw my day my father died,</div> + <div class='line'>And he was happy that he saw it not:</div> + <div class='line'>But I and the first daisy on his grave</div> + <div class='line'>From the same clay came into light at once.</div> + <div class='line'>As Love and I do number equal years</div> + <div class='line'>So she, my love, is of an age with me.</div> + <div class='line'>How like each other was the birth of each!</div> + <div class='line'>The sister of my mother—she that bore</div> + <div class='line'>Camilla close beneath her beating heart,</div> + <div class='line'>Which to the imprisoned spirit of the child,</div> + <div class='line'>With its true touched pulses in the flow</div> + <div class='line'>And hourly visitation of the blood,</div> + <div class='line'>Sent notes of preparation manifold,</div> + <div class='line'>And mellow'd echoes of the outer world—</div> + <div class='line'>My mother's sister, mother of my love,</div> + <div class='line'>Who had a twofold claim upon my heart,</div> + <div class='line'>One twofold mightier than the other was,</div> + <div class='line'>In giving so much beauty to the world,</div> + <div class='line'>And so much wealth as God had charged her with,</div> + <div class='line'>Loathing to put it from herself for ever,</div><a name='Page_127'></a> + <div class='line'>Crown'd with her highest act the placid face</div> + <div class='line'>And breathless body of her good deeds past.</div> + <div class='line'>So we were born, so orphan'd. She was motherless,</div> + <div class='line'>And I without a father. So from each</div> + <div class='line'>Of those two pillars which from earth uphold</div> + <div class='line'>Our childhood, one had fall'n away, and all</div> + <div class='line'>The careful burthen of our tender years</div> + <div class='line'>Trembled upon the other. He that gave</div> + <div class='line'>Her life, to me delightedly fulfill'd</div> + <div class='line'>All loving-kindnesses, all offices</div> + <div class='line'>Of watchful care and trembling tenderness.</div> + <div class='line'>He worked for both: he pray'd for both: he slept</div> + <div class='line'>Dreaming of both; nor was his love the less</div> + <div class='line'>Because it was divided, and shot forth</div> + <div class='line'>Boughs on each side, laden with wholesome shade,</div> + <div class='line'>Wherein we rested sleeping or awake,</div> + <div class='line'>And sung aloud the matin-song of life.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>She was my foster-sister: on one arm</div> + <div class='line'>The flaxen ringlets of our infancies</div> + <div class='line'>Wander'd, the while we rested: one soft lap</div> + <div class='line'>Pillow'd us both: one common light of eyes</div> + <div class='line'>Was on us as we lay: our baby lips,</div> + <div class='line'>Kissing one bosom, ever drew from thence</div> + <div class='line'>The stream of life, one stream, one life, one blood,</div> + <div class='line'>One sustenance, which, still as thought grew large,</div> + <div class='line'>Still larger moulding all the house of thought,</div> + <div class='line'>Perchance assimilated all our tastes</div> + <div class='line'>And future fancies. 'Tis a beautiful</div><a name='Page_128'></a> + <div class='line'>And pleasant meditation, what whate'er</div> + <div class='line'>Our general mother meant for me alone,</div> + <div class='line'>Our mutual mother dealt to both of us:</div> + <div class='line'>So what was earliest mine in earliest life,</div> + <div class='line'>I shared with her in whom myself remains.</div> + <div class='line'>As was our childhood, so our infancy,</div> + <div class='line'>They tell me, was a very miracle</div> + <div class='line'>Of fellow-feeling and communion.</div> + <div class='line'>They tell me that we would not be alone,—</div> + <div class='line'>We cried when we were parted; when I wept,</div> + <div class='line'>Her smile lit up the rainbow on my tears,</div> + <div class='line'>Stay'd on the clouds of sorrow; that we loved</div> + <div class='line'>The sound of one another's voices more</div> + <div class='line'>Than the grey cuckoo loves his name, and learn'd</div> + <div class='line'>To lisp in tune together; that we slept</div> + <div class='line'>In the same cradle always, face to face,</div> + <div class='line'>Heart beating time to heart, lip pressing lip,</div> + <div class='line'>Folding each other, breathing on each other,</div> + <div class='line'>Dreaming together (dreaming of each other</div> + <div class='line'>They should have added) till the morning light</div> + <div class='line'>Sloped thro' the pines, upon the dewy pane</div> + <div class='line'>Falling, unseal'd our eyelids, and we woke</div> + <div class='line'>To gaze upon each other. If this be true,</div> + <div class='line'>At thought of which my whole soul languishes</div> + <div class='line'>And faints, and hath no pulse, no breath, as tho'</div> + <div class='line'>A man in some still garden should infuse</div> + <div class='line'>Rich attar in the bosom of the rose,</div> + <div class='line'>Till, drunk with its own wine and overfull</div> + <div class='line'>Of sweetness, and in smelling of itself,</div> + <div class='line'>It fall on its own thorns—if this be true—</div><a name='Page_129'></a> + <div class='line'>And that way my wish leaneth evermore</div> + <div class='line'>Still to believe it—'tis so sweet a thought,</div> + <div class='line'>Why in the utter stillness of the soul</div> + <div class='line'>Doth question'd memory answer not, nor tell,</div> + <div class='line'>Of this our earliest, our closest drawn,</div> + <div class='line'>Most loveliest, most delicious union?</div> + <div class='line'>Oh, happy, happy outset of my days!</div> + <div class='line'>Green springtide, April promise, glad new year</div> + <div class='line'>Of Being, which with earliest violets,</div> + <div class='line'>And lavish carol of clear-throated larks,</div> + <div class='line'>Fill'd all the march of life.—I will not speak of thee;</div> + <div class='line'>These have not seen thee, these can never know thee,</div> + <div class='line'>They cannot understand me. Pass on then</div> + <div class='line'>A term of eighteen years. Ye would but laugh</div> + <div class='line'>If I should tell ye how I heard in thought</div> + <div class='line'>Those rhymes, 'The Lion and the Unicorn'</div> + <div class='line'>'The Four-and-twenty Blackbirds' 'Banbury Cross,'</div> + <div class='line'>'The Gander' and 'The man of Mitylene,'</div> + <div class='line'>And all the quaint old scraps of ancient crones,</div> + <div class='line'>Which are as gems set in my memory,</div> + <div class='line'>Because she learn'd them with me. Or what profits it</div> + <div class='line'>To tell ye that her father died, just ere</div> + <div class='line'>The daffodil was blown; or how we found</div> + <div class='line'>The drowned seaman on the shore? These things</div> + <div class='line'>Unto the quiet daylight of your minds</div> + <div class='line'>Are cloud and smoke, but in the dark of mine</div><a name='Page_130'></a> + <div class='line'>Show traced with flame. Move with me to that hour,</div> + <div class='line'>Which was the hinge on which the door of Hope,</div> + <div class='line'>Once turning, open'd far into the outward,</div> + <div class='line'>And never closed again.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line12'>I well remember,</div> + <div class='line'>It was a glorious morning, such a one</div> + <div class='line'>As dawns but once a season. Mercury</div> + <div class='line'>On such a morning would have flung himself</div> + <div class='line'>From cloud to cloud, and swum with balanced wings</div> + <div class='line'>To some tall mountain. On that day the year</div> + <div class='line'>First felt his youth and strength, and from his spring</div> + <div class='line'>Moved smiling toward his summer. On that day,</div> + <div class='line'>Love working shook his wings (that charged the winds</div> + <div class='line'>With spiced May-sweets from bound to bound) and blew</div> + <div class='line'>Fresh fire into the sun, and from within</div> + <div class='line'>Burst thro' the heated buds, and sent his soul</div> + <div class='line'>Into the songs of birds, and touch'd far-off</div> + <div class='line'>His mountain-altars, his high hills, with flame</div> + <div class='line'>Milder and purer. Up the rocks we wound;</div> + <div class='line'>The great pine shook with lovely sounds of joy,</div> + <div class='line'>That came on the sea-wind. As mountain brooks</div> + <div class='line'>Our blood ran free: the sunshine seem'd to brood</div> + <div class='line'>More warmly on the heart than on the brow.</div><a name='Page_131'></a> + <div class='line'>We often paused, and looking back, we saw</div> + <div class='line'>The clefts and openings in the hills all fill'd</div> + <div class='line'>With the blue valley and the glistening brooks,</div> + <div class='line'>And with the low dark groves—a land of Love;</div> + <div class='line'>Where Love was worshipp'd upon every height,</div> + <div class='line'>Where Love was worshipp'd under every tree—</div> + <div class='line'>A land of promise, flowing with the milk</div> + <div class='line'>And honey of delicious memories</div> + <div class='line'>Down to the sea, as far as eye could ken,</div> + <div class='line'>From verge to verge it was a holy land,</div> + <div class='line'>Still growing holier as you near'd the bay,</div> + <div class='line'>For where the temple stood. When we had reach'd</div> + <div class='line'>The grassy platform on some hill, I stoop'd,</div> + <div class='line'>I gather'd the wild herbs, and for her brows</div> + <div class='line'>And mine wove chaplets of the self-same flower,</div> + <div class='line'>Which she took smiling, and with my work there</div> + <div class='line'>Crown'd her clear forehead. Once or twice she told me</div> + <div class='line'>(For I remember all things), to let grow</div> + <div class='line'>The flowers that run poison in their veins.</div> + <div class='line'>She said, 'The evil flourish in the world';</div> + <div class='line'>Then playfully she gave herself the lie:</div> + <div class='line'>'Nothing in nature is unbeautiful,</div> + <div class='line'>So, brother, pluck and spare not.' So I wove</div> + <div class='line'>Even the dull-blooded poppy, 'whose red flower</div> + <div class='line'>Hued with the scarlet of a fierce sunrise,</div> + <div class='line'>Like to the wild youth of an evil king,</div> + <div class='line'>Is without sweetness, but who crowns himself</div> + <div class='line'>Above the secret poisons of his heart</div><a name='Page_132'></a> + <div class='line'>In his old age'—a graceful thought of hers</div> + <div class='line'>Graven on my fancy! As I said, with these</div> + <div class='line'>She crown'd her forehead. O how like a nymph,</div> + <div class='line'>A stately mountain-nymph, she look'd! how native</div> + <div class='line'>Unto the hills she trod on! What an angel!</div> + <div class='line'>How clothed with beams! My eyes, fix'd upon hers,</div> + <div class='line'>Almost forgot even to move again.</div> + <div class='line'>My spirit leap'd as with those thrills of bliss</div> + <div class='line'>That shoot across the soul in prayer, and show us</div> + <div class='line'>That we are surely heard. Methought a light</div> + <div class='line'>Burst from the garland I had woven, and stood</div> + <div class='line'>A solid glory on her bright black hair:</div> + <div class='line'>A light, methought, broke from her dark, dark eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>And shot itself into the singing winds;</div> + <div class='line'>A light, methought, flash'd even from her white robe,</div> + <div class='line'>As from a glass in the sun, and fell about</div> + <div class='line'>My footsteps on the mountains.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line12'>About sunset</div> + <div class='line'>We came unto the hill of woe, so call'd</div> + <div class='line'>Because the legend ran that, long time since,</div> + <div class='line'>One rainy night, when every wind blew loud,</div> + <div class='line'>A woful man had thrust his wife and child</div> + <div class='line'>With shouts from off the bridge, and following, plunged</div> + <div class='line'>Into the dizzy chasm below. Below,</div> + <div class='line'>Sheer thro' the black-wall'd cliff the rapid brook</div><a name='Page_133'></a> + <div class='line'>Shot down his inner thunders, built above</div> + <div class='line'>With matted bramble and the shining gloss</div> + <div class='line'>Of ivy-leaves, whose low-hung tresses, dipp'd</div> + <div class='line'>In the fierce stream, bore downward with the wave.</div> + <div class='line'>The path was steep and loosely strewn with crags</div> + <div class='line'>We mounted slowly: yet to both of us</div> + <div class='line'>It was delight, not hindrance: unto both</div> + <div class='line'>Delight from hardship to be overcome,</div> + <div class='line'>And scorn of perilous seeming: unto me</div> + <div class='line'>Intense delight and rapture that I breathed,</div> + <div class='line'>As with a sense of nigher Deity,</div> + <div class='line'>With her to whom all outward fairest things</div> + <div class='line'>Were by the busy mind referr'd, compared,</div> + <div class='line'>As bearing no essential fruits of excellence.</div> + <div class='line'>Save as they were the types and shadowings</div> + <div class='line'>Of hers—and then that I became to her</div> + <div class='line'>A tutelary angel as she rose,</div> + <div class='line'>And with a fearful self-impelling joy</div> + <div class='line'>Saw round her feet the country far away,</div> + <div class='line'>Beyond the nearest mountain's bosky brows,</div> + <div class='line'>Burst into open prospect—heath and hill,</div> + <div class='line'>And hollow lined and wooded to the lips—</div> + <div class='line'>And steep down walls of battlemented rock</div> + <div class='line'>Girded with broom or shiver'd into peaks—</div> + <div class='line'>And glory of broad waters interfused,</div> + <div class='line'>Whence rose as it were breath and steam of gold;</div> + <div class='line'>And over all the great wood rioting</div> + <div class='line'>And climbing, starr'd at slender intervals</div> + <div class='line'>With blossom tufts of purest white; and last,</div> + <div class='line'>Framing the mighty landskip to the West,</div><a name='Page_134'></a> + <div class='line'>A purple range of purple cones, between</div> + <div class='line'>Whose interspaces gush'd, in blinding bursts,</div> + <div class='line'>The incorporate light of sun and sea.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line12'>At length,</div> + <div class='line'>Upon the tremulous bridge, that from beneath</div> + <div class='line'>Seemed with a cobweb firmament to link</div> + <div class='line'>The earthquake-shattered chasm, hung with shrubs,</div> + <div class='line'>We passed with tears of rapture. All the West,</div> + <div class='line'>And even unto the middle South, was ribb'd</div> + <div class='line'>And barr'd with bloom on bloom. The sun beneath,</div> + <div class='line'>Held for a space 'twixt cloud and wave, shower'd down</div> + <div class='line'>Rays of a mighty circle, weaving over</div> + <div class='line'>That varied wilderness a tissue of light</div> + <div class='line'>Unparallel'd. On the other side the moon,</div> + <div class='line'>Half-melted into thin blue air, stood still</div> + <div class='line'>And pale and fibrous as a wither'd leaf,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor yet endured in presence of his eyes</div> + <div class='line'>To imbue his lustre; most unloverlike;</div> + <div class='line'>Since in his absence full of light and joy</div> + <div class='line'>And giving light to others. But this chiefest,</div> + <div class='line'>Next to her presence whom I loved so well,</div> + <div class='line'>Spoke loudly, even into my inmost heart,</div> + <div class='line'>As to my outward hearing: the loud stream,</div> + <div class='line'>Forth issuing from his portals in the crag</div> + <div class='line'>(A visible link unto the home of my heart),</div> + <div class='line'>Ran amber toward the West, and nigh the sea,</div> + <div class='line'>Parting my own loved mountains, was received</div><a name='Page_135'></a> + <div class='line'>Shorn of its strength, into the sympathy</div> + <div class='line'>Of that small bay, which into open main</div> + <div class='line'>Glow'd intermingling close beneath the sun</div> + <div class='line'>Spirit of Love! That little hour was bound,</div> + <div class='line'>Shut in from Time, and dedicate to thee;</div> + <div class='line'>Thy fires from heav'n had touch'd it, and the earth</div> + <div class='line'>They fell on became hallow'd evermore.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>We turn'd: our eyes met: her's were bright, and mine</div> + <div class='line'>Were dim with floating tears, that shot the sunset,</div> + <div class='line'>In light rings round me; and my name was borne</div> + <div class='line'>Upon her breath. Henceforth my name has been</div> + <div class='line'>A hallow'd memory, like the names of old;</div> + <div class='line'>A center'd, glory-circled memory,</div> + <div class='line'>And a peculiar treasure, brooking not</div> + <div class='line'>Exchange or currency; and in that hour</div> + <div class='line'>A hope flow'd round me, like a golden mist</div> + <div class='line'>Charm'd amid eddies of melodious airs,</div> + <div class='line'>A moment, ere the onward whirlwind shatter it,</div> + <div class='line'>Waver'd and floated—which was less than Hope,</div> + <div class='line'>Because it lack'd the power of perfect Hope;</div> + <div class='line'>But which was more and higher than all Hope,</div> + <div class='line'>Because all other Hope hath lower aim;</div> + <div class='line'>Even that this name to which her seraph lips</div> + <div class='line'>Did lend such gentle utterance, this one name</div> + <div class='line'>In some obscure hereafter, might inwreathe</div> + <div class='line'>(How lovelier, nobler then!) her life, her love,</div><a name='Page_136'></a> + <div class='line'>With my life, love, soul, spirit and heart and strength.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>'Brother,' she said, 'let this be call'd henceforth</div> + <div class='line'>The Hill of Hope'; and I replied: 'O sister,</div> + <div class='line'>My will is one with thine; the Hill of Hope.'</div> + <div class='line'>Nevertheless, we did not change the name.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Love lieth deep; Love dwells not in lip-depths:</div> + <div class='line'>Love wraps her wings on either side the heart,</div> + <div class='line'>Constraining it with kisses close and warm,</div> + <div class='line'>Absorbing all the incense of sweet thoughts</div> + <div class='line'>So that they pass not to the shrine of sound.</div> + <div class='line'>Else had the life of that delighted hour</div> + <div class='line'>Drunk in the largeness of the utterance</div> + <div class='line'>Of Love; but how should earthly measure mete</div> + <div class='line'>The heavenly unmeasured or unlimited Love,</div> + <div class='line'>Which scarce can tune his high majestic sense</div> + <div class='line'>Unto the thunder-song that wheels the spheres;</div> + <div class='line'>Scarce living in the Aeolian harmony,</div> + <div class='line'>And flowing odour of the spacious air;</div> + <div class='line'>Scarce housed in the circle of this earth:</div> + <div class='line'>Be cabin'd up in words and syllables,</div> + <div class='line'>Which waste with the breath that made 'em.</div> + <div class='line12'>Sooner earth</div> + <div class='line'>Might go round heaven, and the straight girth of Time</div> + <div class='line'>Inswathe the fullness of Eternity,</div> + <div class='line'>Than language grasp the infinite of Love.</div> + <div class='line'>O day, which did enwomb that happy hour,</div><a name='Page_137'></a> + <div class='line'>Thou art blest in the years, divinest day!</div> + <div class='line'>O Genius of that hour which dost uphold</div> + <div class='line'>Thy coronal of glory like a God,</div> + <div class='line'>Amid thy melancholy mates far-seen,</div> + <div class='line'>Who walk before thee, and whose eyes are dim</div> + <div class='line'>With gazing on the light and depth of thine</div> + <div class='line'>Thy name is ever worshipp'd among hours!</div> + <div class='line'>Had I died then, I had not seem'd to die</div> + <div class='line'>For bliss stood round me like the lights of heaven,</div> + <div class='line'>That cannot fade, they are so burning bright.</div> + <div class='line'>Had I died then, I had not known the death;</div> + <div class='line'>Planting my feet against this mound of time</div> + <div class='line'>I had thrown me on the vast, and from this impulse</div> + <div class='line'>Continuing and gathering ever, ever,</div> + <div class='line'>Agglomerated swiftness, I had lived</div> + <div class='line'>That intense moment thro' eternity.</div> + <div class='line'>Oh, had the Power from whose right hand the light</div> + <div class='line'>Of Life issueth, and from whose left hand floweth</div> + <div class='line'>The shadow of Death, perennial effluences,</div> + <div class='line'>Whereof to all that draw the wholesome air,</div> + <div class='line'>Somewhile the one must overflow the other;</div> + <div class='line'>Then had he stemm'd my day with night and driven</div> + <div class='line'>My current to the fountain whence it sprang—</div> + <div class='line'>Even his own abiding excellence—</div> + <div class='line'>On me, methinks, that shock of gloom had fall'n</div> + <div class='line'>Unfelt, and like the sun I gazed upon,</div> + <div class='line'>Which, lapt in seeming dissolution,</div><a name='Page_138'></a> + <div class='line'>And dipping his head low beneath the verge,</div> + <div class='line'>Yet bearing round about him his own day,</div> + <div class='line'>In confidence of unabated strength,</div> + <div class='line'>Steppeth from heaven to heaven, from light to light,</div> + <div class='line'>And holding his undimmed forehead far</div> + <div class='line'>Into a clearer zenith, pure of cloud;</div> + <div class='line'>So bearing on thro' Being limitless</div> + <div class='line'>The triumph of this foretaste, I had merged</div> + <div class='line'>Glory in glory, without sense of change.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>We trod the shadow of the downward hill;</div> + <div class='line'>We pass'd from light to dark. On the other side</div> + <div class='line'>Is scooped a cavern and a mountain-hall,</div> + <div class='line'>Which none have fathom'd. If you go far in</div> + <div class='line'>(The country people rumour) you may hear</div> + <div class='line'>The moaning of the woman and the child,</div> + <div class='line'>Shut in the secret chambers of the rock.</div> + <div class='line'>I too have heard a sound—perchance of streams</div> + <div class='line'>Running far-off within its inmost halls,</div> + <div class='line'>The home of darkness, but the cavern mouth,</div> + <div class='line'>Half overtrailed with a wanton weed</div> + <div class='line'>Gives birth to a brawling stream, that stepping lightly</div> + <div class='line'>Adown a natural stair of tangled roots,</div> + <div class='line'>Is presently received in a sweet grove</div> + <div class='line'>Of eglantine, a place of burial</div> + <div class='line'>Far lovelier than its cradle; for unseen</div> + <div class='line'>But taken with the sweetness of the place,</div> + <div class='line'>It giveth out a constant melody</div><a name='Page_139'></a> + <div class='line'>That drowns the nearer echoes. Lower down</div> + <div class='line'>Spreads out a little lake, that, flooding, makes</div> + <div class='line'>Cushions of yellow sand; and from the woods</div> + <div class='line'>That belt it rise three dark tall cypresses;</div> + <div class='line'>Three cypresses, symbols of mortal woe,</div> + <div class='line'>That men plant over graves.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line10'>Hither we came,</div> + <div class='line'>And sitting down upon the golden moss</div> + <div class='line'>Held converse sweet and low—low converse sweet,</div> + <div class='line'>In which our voices bore least part. The wind</div> + <div class='line'>Told a love-tale beside us, how he woo'd</div> + <div class='line'>The waters, and the crisp'd waters lisp'd</div> + <div class='line'>The kisses of the wind, that, sick with love,</div> + <div class='line'>Fainted at intervals, and grew again</div> + <div class='line'>To utterance of passion. Ye cannot shape</div> + <div class='line'>Fancy so fair as is this memory.</div> + <div class='line'>Methought all excellence that ever was</div> + <div class='line'>Had drawn herself from many thousand years,</div> + <div class='line'>And all the separate Edens of this earth,</div> + <div class='line'>To centre in this place and time. I listen'd,</div> + <div class='line'>And her words stole with most prevailing sweetness</div> + <div class='line'>Into my heart, as thronged fancies come,</div> + <div class='line'>All unawares, into the poet's brain;</div> + <div class='line'>Or as the dew-drops on the petal hung,</div> + <div class='line'>When summer winds break their soft sleep with sighs,</div> + <div class='line'>Creep down into the bottom of the flower.</div> + <div class='line'>Her words were like a coronal of wild blooms</div><a name='Page_140'></a> + <div class='line'>Strung in the very negligence of Art,</div> + <div class='line'>Or in the art of Nature, where each rose</div> + <div class='line'>Doth faint upon the bosom of the other,</div> + <div class='line'>Flooding its angry cheek with odorous tears.</div> + <div class='line'>So each with each inwoven lived with each,</div> + <div class='line'>And were in union more than double-sweet.</div> + <div class='line'>What marvel my Camilla told me all?</div> + <div class='line'>It was so happy an hour, so sweet a place,</div> + <div class='line'>And I was as the brother of her blood,</div> + <div class='line'>And by that name was wont to live in her speech,</div> + <div class='line'>Dear name! which had too much of nearness in it</div> + <div class='line'>And heralded the distance of this time.</div> + <div class='line'>At first her voice was very sweet and low,</div> + <div class='line'>As tho' she were afeard of utterance;</div> + <div class='line'>But in the onward current of her speech,</div> + <div class='line'>(As echoes of the hollow-banked brooks</div> + <div class='line'>Are fashioned by the channel which they keep)</div> + <div class='line'>His words did of their meaning borrow sound,</div> + <div class='line'>Her cheek did catch the colour of her words,</div> + <div class='line'>I heard and trembled, yet I could but hear;</div> + <div class='line'>My heart paused,—my raised eyelids would not fall,</div> + <div class='line'>But still I kept my eyes upon the sky.</div> + <div class='line'>I seem'd the only part of Time stood still,</div> + <div class='line'>And saw the motion of all other things;</div> + <div class='line'>While her words, syllable by syllable,</div> + <div class='line'>Like water, drop by drop, upon my ear</div> + <div class='line'>Fell, and I wish'd, yet wish'd her not to speak,</div> + <div class='line'>But she spoke on, for I did name no wish.</div><a name='Page_141'></a> + <div class='line'>What marvel my Camilla told me all</div> + <div class='line'>Her maiden dignities of Hope and Love,</div> + <div class='line'>'Perchance' she said 'return'd.' Even then the stars</div> + <div class='line'>Did tremble in their stations as I gazed;</div> + <div class='line'>But she spake on, for I did name no wish,</div> + <div class='line'>No wish—no hope. Hope was not wholly dead,</div> + <div class='line'>But breathing hard at the approach of Death,</div> + <div class='line'>Updrawn in expectation of her change—</div> + <div class='line'>Camilla, my Camilla, who was mine</div> + <div class='line'>No longer in the dearest use of mine—</div> + <div class='line'>The written secrets of her inmost soul</div> + <div class='line'>Lay like an open scroll before my view,</div> + <div class='line'>And my eyes read, they read aright, her heart</div> + <div class='line'>Was Lionel's: it seem'd as tho' a link</div> + <div class='line'>Of some light chain within my inmost frame</div> + <div class='line'>Was riven in twain: that life I heeded not</div> + <div class='line'>Flow'd from me, and the darkness of the grave,</div> + <div class='line'>The darkness of the grave and utter night,</div> + <div class='line'>Did swallow up my vision: at her feet,</div> + <div class='line'>Even the feet of her I loved, I fell,</div> + <div class='line'>Smit with exceeding sorrow unto death.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Then had the earth beneath me yawning given</div> + <div class='line'>Sign of convulsion; and tho' horrid rifts</div> + <div class='line'>Sent up the moaning of unhappy spirits</div> + <div class='line'>Imprison'd in her centre, with the heat</div> + <div class='line'>Of their infolding element; had the angels,</div> + <div class='line'>The watchers at heaven's gate, push'd them apart,</div> + <div class='line'>And from the golden threshold had down-roll'd</div><a name='Page_142'></a> + <div class='line'>Their heaviest thunder, I had lain as still,</div> + <div class='line'>And blind and motionless as then I lay!</div> + <div class='line'>White as quench'd ashes, cold as were the hopes</div> + <div class='line'>Of my lorn love! What happy air shall woo</div> + <div class='line'>The wither'd leaf fall'n in the woods, or blasted</div> + <div class='line'>Upon this bough? a lightning stroke had come</div> + <div class='line'>Even from that Heaven in whose light I bloom'd</div> + <div class='line'>And taken away the greenness of my life,</div> + <div class='line'>The blossom and the fragrance. Who was cursed</div> + <div class='line'>But I? who miserable but I? even Misery</div> + <div class='line'>Forgot herself in that extreme distress,</div> + <div class='line'>And with the overdoing of her part</div> + <div class='line'>Did fall away into oblivion.</div> + <div class='line'>The night in pity took away my day</div> + <div class='line'>Because my grief as yet was newly born,</div> + <div class='line'>Of too weak eyes to look upon the light,</div> + <div class='line'>And with the hasty notice of the ear,</div> + <div class='line'>Frail life was startled from the tender love</div> + <div class='line'>Of him she brooded over. Would I had lain</div> + <div class='line'>Until the pleached ivy tress had wound</div> + <div class='line'>Round my worn limbs, and the wild briar had driven</div> + <div class='line'>Its knotted thorns thro' my unpaining brows</div> + <div class='line'>Leaning its roses on my faded eyes.</div> + <div class='line'>The wind had blown above me, and the rain</div> + <div class='line'>Had fall'n upon me, and the gilded snake</div> + <div class='line'>Had nestled in this bosomthrone of love,</div> + <div class='line'>But I had been at rest for evermore.</div> + <div class='line'>Long time entrancement held me: all too soon,</div><a name='Page_143'></a> + <div class='line'>Life (like a wanton too-officious friend</div> + <div class='line'>Who will not hear denial, vain and rude</div> + <div class='line'>With proffer of unwished for services)</div> + <div class='line'>Entering all the avenues of sense,</div> + <div class='line'>Pass'd thro' into his citadel, the brain</div> + <div class='line'>With hated warmth of apprehensiveness:</div> + <div class='line'>And first the chillness of the mountain stream</div> + <div class='line'>Smote on my brow, and then I seem'd to hear</div> + <div class='line'>Its murmur, as the drowning seaman hears,</div> + <div class='line'>Who with his head below the surface dropt,</div> + <div class='line'>Listens the dreadful murmur indistinct</div> + <div class='line'>Of the confused seas, and knoweth not</div> + <div class='line'>Beyond the sound he lists: and then came in</div> + <div class='line'>O'erhead the white light of the weary moon,</div> + <div class='line'>Diffused and molten into flaky cloud.</div> + <div class='line'>Was my sight drunk, that it did shape to me</div> + <div class='line'>Him who should own that name? or had my fancy</div> + <div class='line'>So lethargised discernment in the sense,</div> + <div class='line'>That she did act the step-dame to mine eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>Warping their nature, till they minister'd</div> + <div class='line'>Unto her swift conceits? 'Twere better thus</div> + <div class='line'>If so be that the memory of that sound</div> + <div class='line'>With mighty evocation, had updrawn</div> + <div class='line'>The fashion and the phantasm of the form</div> + <div class='line'>It should attach to. There was no such thing.—</div> + <div class='line'>It was the man she loved, even Lionel,</div> + <div class='line'>The lover Lionel, the happy Lionel,</div> + <div class='line'>All joy; who drew the happy atmosphere</div> + <div class='line'>Of my unhappy sighs, fed with my tears,</div><a name='Page_144'></a> + <div class='line'>To him the honey dews of orient hope.</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! rather had some loathly ghastful brow,</div> + <div class='line'>Half-bursten from the shroud, in cere cloth bound,</div> + <div class='line'>The dead skin withering on the fretted bone,</div> + <div class='line'>The very spirit of Paleness made still paler</div> + <div class='line'>By the shuddering moonlight, fix'd his eyes on mine</div> + <div class='line'>Horrible with the anger and the heat</div> + <div class='line'>Of the remorseful soul alive within,</div> + <div class='line'>And damn'd unto his loathed tenement.</div> + <div class='line'>Methinks I could have sooner met that gaze!</div> + <div class='line'>Oh, how her choice did leap forth from his eyes!</div> + <div class='line'>Oh, how her love did clothe itself in smiles</div> + <div class='line'>About his lips! This was the very arch-mock</div> + <div class='line'>And insolence of uncontrolled Fate,</div> + <div class='line'>When the effect weigh'd seas upon my head</div> + <div class='line'>To twit me with the cause.</div> + <div class='line12'>Why how was this?</div> + <div class='line'>Could he not walk what paths he chose, nor breathe</div> + <div class='line'>What airs he pleased! Was not the wide world free,</div> + <div class='line'>With all her interchange of hill and plain</div> + <div class='line'>To him as well as me? I know not, faith:</div> + <div class='line'>But Misery, like a fretful, wayward child,</div> + <div class='line'>Refused to look his author in the face,</div> + <div class='line'>Must he come my way too? Was not the South,</div> + <div class='line'>The East, the West, all open, if he had fall'n</div> + <div class='line'>In love in twilight? Why should he come my way,</div> + <div class='line'>Robed in those robes of light I must not wear,</div><a name='Page_145'></a> + <div class='line'>With that great crown of beams about his brows?</div> + <div class='line'>Come like an angel to a damned soul?</div> + <div class='line'>To tell him of the bliss he had with God;</div> + <div class='line'>Come like a careless and a greedy heir,</div> + <div class='line'>That scarce can wait the reading of the will</div> + <div class='line'>Before he takes possession? Was mine a mood</div> + <div class='line'>To be invaded rudely, and not rather</div> + <div class='line'>A sacred, secret, unapproached woe</div> + <div class='line'>Unspeakable? I was shut up with grief;</div> + <div class='line'>She took the body of my past delight,</div> + <div class='line'>Narded, and swathed and balm'd it for herself,</div> + <div class='line'>And laid it in a new-hewn sepulchre,</div> + <div class='line'>Where man had never lain. I was led mute</div> + <div class='line'>Into her temple like a sacrifice;</div> + <div class='line'>I was the high-priest in her holiest place,</div> + <div class='line'>Not to be loudly broken in upon.</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! friend, thoughts deep and heavy as these well-nigh</div> + <div class='line'>O'erbore the limits of my brain; but he</div> + <div class='line'>Bent o'er me, and my neck his arm upstay'd</div> + <div class='line'>From earth. I thought it was an adder's fold,</div> + <div class='line'>And once I strove to disengage myself,</div> + <div class='line'>But fail'd, I was so feeble. She was there too:</div> + <div class='line'>She bent above me too: her cheek was pale,</div> + <div class='line'>Oh! very fair and pale: rare pity had stolen</div> + <div class='line'>The living bloom away, as tho' a red rose</div> + <div class='line'>Should change into a white one suddenly.</div> + <div class='line'>Her eyes, I saw, were full of tears in the morn,</div> + <div class='line'>And some few drops of that distressful rain</div> + <div class='line'>Being wafted on the wind, drove in my sight,</div><a name='Page_146'></a> + <div class='line'>And being there they did break forth afresh</div> + <div class='line'>In a new birth, immingled with my own,</div> + <div class='line'>And still bewept my grief. Keeping unchanged</div> + <div class='line'>The purport of their coinage. Her long ringlets,</div> + <div class='line'>Drooping and beaten with the plaining wind,</div> + <div class='line'>Did brush my forehead in their to-and-fro:</div> + <div class='line'>For in the sudden anguish of her heart</div> + <div class='line'>Loosed from their simple thrall they had flowed abroad,</div> + <div class='line'>And onward floating in a full, dark wave,</div> + <div class='line'>Parted on either side her argent neck,</div> + <div class='line'>Mantling her form half way. She, when I woke,</div> + <div class='line'>After my refluent health made tender quest</div> + <div class='line'>Unanswer'd, for I spoke not: for the sound</div> + <div class='line'>Of that dear voice so musically low,</div> + <div class='line'>And now first heard with any sense of pain,</div> + <div class='line'>As it had taken life away before,</div> + <div class='line'>Choked all the syllables that in my throat</div> + <div class='line'>Strove to uprise, laden with mournful thanks,</div> + <div class='line'>From my full heart: and ever since that hour,</div> + <div class='line'>My voice hath somewhat falter'd—and what wonder</div> + <div class='line'>That when hope died, part of her eloquence</div> + <div class='line'>Died with her? He, the blissful lover, too,</div> + <div class='line'>From his great hoard of happiness distill'd</div> + <div class='line'>Some drops of solace; like a vain rich man,</div> + <div class='line'>That, having always prosper'd in the world,</div> + <div class='line'>Folding his hands deals comfortable words</div> + <div class='line'>To hearts wounded for ever; yet, in truth,</div> + <div class='line'>Fair speech was his and delicate of phrase,</div><a name='Page_147'></a> + <div class='line'>Falling in whispers on the sense, address'd</div> + <div class='line'>More to the inward than the outward ear,</div> + <div class='line'>As rain of the midsummer midnight soft</div> + <div class='line'>Scarce-heard, recalling fragrance and the green</div> + <div class='line'>Of the dead spring—such as in other minds</div> + <div class='line'>Had film'd the margents of the recent wound.</div> + <div class='line'>And why was I to darken their pure love,</div> + <div class='line'>If, as I knew, they two did love each other,</div> + <div class='line'>Because my own was darken'd? Why was I</div> + <div class='line'>To stand within the level of their hopes,</div> + <div class='line'>Because my hope was widow'd, like the cur</div> + <div class='line'>In the child's adage? Did I love Camilla?</div> + <div class='line'>Ye know that I did love her: to this present</div> + <div class='line'>My full-orb'd love hath waned not. Did I love her,</div> + <div class='line'>And could I look upon her tearful eyes?</div> + <div class='line'>Tears wept for me; for me—weep at my grief?</div> + <div class='line'>What had <i>she</i> done to weep—let my heart</div> + <div class='line'>Break rather—whom the gentlest airs of heaven</div> + <div class='line'>Should kiss with an unwonted gentleness.</div> + <div class='line'>Her love did murder mine; what then? she deem'd</div> + <div class='line'>I wore a brother's mind: she call'd me brother:</div> + <div class='line'>She told me all her love: she shall not weep.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>The brightness of a burning thought awhile</div> + <div class='line'>Battailing with the glooms of my dark will,</div> + <div class='line'>Moonlike emerged, lit up unto itself,</div> + <div class='line'>Upon the depths of an unfathom'd woe,</div> + <div class='line'>Reflex of action, starting up at once,</div><a name='Page_148'></a> + <div class='line'>As men do from a vague and horrid dream,</div> + <div class='line'>And throwing by all consciousness of self,</div> + <div class='line'>In eager haste I shook him by the hand;</div> + <div class='line'>Then flinging myself down upon my knees</div> + <div class='line'>Even where the grass was warm where I had lain,</div> + <div class='line'>I pray'd aloud to God that he would hold</div> + <div class='line'>The hand of blessing over Lionel,</div> + <div class='line'>And her whom he would make his wedded wife,</div> + <div class='line'>Camilla! May their days be golden days,</div> + <div class='line'>And their long life a dream of linked love,</div> + <div class='line'>From which may rude Death never startle them,</div> + <div class='line'>But grow upon them like a glorious vision</div> + <div class='line'>Of unconceived and awful happiness,</div> + <div class='line'>Solemn but splendid, full of shapes and sounds,</div> + <div class='line'>Swallowing its precedent in victory.</div> + <div class='line'>Let them so love that men and boys may say,</div> + <div class='line'>Lo! how they love each other! till their love</div> + <div class='line'>Shall ripen to a proverb unto all,</div> + <div class='line'>Known when their faces are forgot in the land.</div> + <div class='line'>And as for me, Camilla, as for me,</div> + <div class='line'>Think not thy tears will make my name grow green,—</div> + <div class='line'>The dew of tears is an unwholesome dew.</div> + <div class='line'>The course of Hope is dried,—the life o' the plant—</div> + <div class='line'>They will but sicken the sick plant more.</div> + <div class='line'>Deem then I love thee but as brothers do,</div> + <div class='line'>So shalt thou love me still as sisters do;</div> + <div class='line'>Or if thou dream'st aught farther, dream but how</div> + <div class='line'>I could have loved thee, had there been none else</div><a name='Page_149'></a> + <div class='line'>To love as lovers, loved again by thee.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Or this, or somewhat like to this, I spoke,</div> + <div class='line'>When I did see her weep so ruefully;</div> + <div class='line'>For sure my love should ne'er induce the front</div> + <div class='line'>And mask of Hate, whom woful ailments</div> + <div class='line'>Of unavailing tears and heart deep moans</div> + <div class='line'>Feed and envenom, as the milky blood</div> + <div class='line'>Of hateful herbs a subtle-fanged snake.</div> + <div class='line'>Shall Love pledge Hatred in her bitter draughts,</div> + <div class='line'>And batten on his poisons? Love forbid!</div> + <div class='line'>Love passeth not the threshold of cold Hate,</div> + <div class='line'>And Hate is strange beneath the roof of Love.</div> + <div class='line'>O Love, if thou be'st Love, dry up these tears</div> + <div class='line'>Shed for the love of Love; for tho' mine image,</div> + <div class='line'>The subject of thy power, be cold in her,</div> + <div class='line'>Yet, like cold snow, it melteth in the source</div> + <div class='line'>Of these sad tears, and feeds their downward flow.</div> + <div class='line'>So Love, arraign'd to judgment and to death,</div> + <div class='line'>Received unto himself a part of blame.</div> + <div class='line'>Being guiltless, as an innocent prisoner,</div> + <div class='line'>Who when the woful sentence hath been past,</div> + <div class='line'>And all the clearness of his fame hath gone</div> + <div class='line'>Beneath the shadow of the curse of men,</div> + <div class='line'>First falls asleep in swoon. Wherefrom awaked</div> + <div class='line'>And looking round upon his tearful friends,</div> + <div class='line'>Forthwith and in his agony conceives</div> + <div class='line'>A shameful sense as of a cleaving crime—</div> + <div class='line'>For whence without some guilt should such grief be?</div> + <div class='line'>So died that hour, and fell into the abysm</div><a name='Page_150'></a> + <div class='line'>Of forms outworn, but not to be outworn,</div> + <div class='line'>Who never hail'd another worth the Life</div> + <div class='line'>That made it sensible. So died that hour,</div> + <div class='line'>Like odour wrapt into the winged wind</div> + <div class='line'>Borne into alien lands and far away.</div> + <div class='line'>There be some hearts so airy-fashioned,</div> + <div class='line'>That in the death of love, if e'er they loved,</div> + <div class='line'>On that sharp ridge of utmost doom ride highly</div> + <div class='line'>Above the perilous seas of change and chance;</div> + <div class='line'>Nay, more, holds out the lights of cheerfulness;</div> + <div class='line'>As the tall ship, that many a dreary year</div> + <div class='line'>Knit to some dismal sandbank far at sea,</div> + <div class='line'>All through the lifelong hours of utter dark,</div> + <div class='line'>Showers slanting light upon the dolorous wave.</div> + <div class='line'>For me all other Hopes did sway from that</div> + <div class='line'>Which hung the frailest: falling, they fell too,</div> + <div class='line'>Crush'd link on link into the beaten earth,</div> + <div class='line'>And Love did walk with banish'd Hope no more,</div> + <div class='line'>It was ill-done to part ye, Sisters fair;</div> + <div class='line'>Love's arms were wreathed about the neck of Hope,</div> + <div class='line'>And Hope kiss'd Love, and Love drew in her breath</div> + <div class='line'>In that close kiss, and drank her whisper'd tales.</div> + <div class='line'>They said that Love would die when Hope was gone,</div> + <div class='line'>And Love mourned long, and sorrowed after Hope;</div> + <div class='line'>At last she sought out memory, and they trod</div> + <div class='line'>The same old paths where Love had walked with Hope,</div> + <div class='line'>And Memory fed the soul of Love with tears.</div> + </div> + <div class='heading'>II<a name='Page_151'></a></div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>From that time forth I would not see her more,</div> + <div class='line'>But many weary moons I lived alone—</div> + <div class='line'>Alone, and in the heart of the great forest.</div> + <div class='line'>Sometimes upon the hills beside the sea</div> + <div class='line'>All day I watched the floating isles of shade,</div> + <div class='line'>And sometimes on the shore, upon the sands</div> + <div class='line'>Insensibly I drew her name, until</div> + <div class='line'>The meaning of the letters shot into</div> + <div class='line'>My brain: anon the wanton billow wash'd</div> + <div class='line'>Them over, till they faded like my love.</div> + <div class='line'>The hollow caverns heard me—the black brooks</div> + <div class='line'>Of the mid-forest heard me—the soft winds,</div> + <div class='line'>Laden with thistledown and seeds of flowers,</div> + <div class='line'>Paused in their course to hear me, for my voice</div> + <div class='line'>Was all of thee: the merry linnet knew me,</div> + <div class='line'>The squirrel knew me, and the dragon-fly</div> + <div class='line'>Shot by me like a flash of purple fire.</div> + <div class='line'>The rough briar tore my bleeding palms; the hemlock,</div> + <div class='line'>Brow high, did strike my forehead as I pas'd;</div> + <div class='line'>Yet trod I not the wild-flower in my path,</div> + <div class='line'>Nor bruised the wild-bird's egg.</div> + <div class='line12'>Was this the end?</div> + <div class='line'>Why grew we then together i' the same plot?</div> + <div class='line'>Why fed we the same fountain? drew the same sun?</div> + <div class='line'>Why were our mothers branches of one stem?</div> + <div class='line'>Why were we one in all things, save in that</div> + <div class='line'>Where to have been one had been the roof and crown</div><a name='Page_152'></a> + <div class='line'>Of all I hoped and fear'd? if that same nearness</div> + <div class='line'>Were father to this distance, and that <i>one</i></div> + <div class='line'>Vauntcourier this <i>double</i>? If affection</div> + <div class='line'>Living slew Love, and Sympathy hew'd out</div> + <div class='line'>The bosom-sepulchre of Sympathy.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Chiefly I sought the cavern and the hill</div> + <div class='line'>Where last we roam'd together, for the sound</div> + <div class='line'>Of the loud stream was pleasant, and the wind</div> + <div class='line'>Came wooingly with violet smells. Sometimes</div> + <div class='line'>All day I sat within the cavern-mouth,</div> + <div class='line'>Fixing my eyes on those three cypress-cones</div> + <div class='line'>Which spired above the wood; and with mad hand</div> + <div class='line'>Tearing the bright leaves of the ivy-screen,</div> + <div class='line'>I cast them in the noisy brook beneath,</div> + <div class='line'>And watch'd them till they vanished from my sight</div> + <div class='line'>Beneath the bower of wreathed eglantines:</div> + <div class='line'>And all the fragments of the living rock,</div> + <div class='line'>(Huge splinters, which the sap of earliest showers,</div> + <div class='line'>Or moisture of the vapour, left in clinging,</div> + <div class='line'>When the shrill storm-blast feeds it from behind,</div> + <div class='line'>And scatters it before, had shatter'd from</div> + <div class='line'>The mountain, till they fell, and with the shock</div> + <div class='line'>Half dug their own graves), in mine agony,</div> + <div class='line'>Did I make bear of all the deep rich moss</div> + <div class='line'>Wherewith the dashing runnel in the spring</div> + <div class='line'>Had liveried them all over. In my brain</div><a name='Page_153'></a> + <div class='line'>The spirit seem'd to flag from thought to thought,</div> + <div class='line'>Like moonlight wandering through a mist: my blood</div> + <div class='line'>Crept like the drains of a marsh thro' all my body;</div> + <div class='line'>The motions of my heart seem'd far within me,</div> + <div class='line'>Unfrequent, low, as tho' it told its pulses;</div> + <div class='line'>And yet it shook me, that my frame did shudder,</div> + <div class='line'>As it were drawn asunder by the rack.</div> + <div class='line'>But over the deep graves of Hope and Fear,</div> + <div class='line'>The wreck of ruin'd life and shatter'd thought,</div> + <div class='line'>Brooded one master-passion evermore,</div> + <div class='line'>Like to a low hung and a fiery sky</div> + <div class='line'>Above some great metropolis, earth shock'd</div> + <div class='line'>Hung round with ragged-rimmed burning folds,</div> + <div class='line'>Embathing all with wild and woful hues—</div> + <div class='line'>Great hills of ruins, and collapsed masses</div> + <div class='line'>Of thunder-shaken columns, indistinct</div> + <div class='line'>And fused together in the tyrannous light.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>So gazed I on the ruins of that thought</div> + <div class='line'>Which was the playmate of my youth—for which</div> + <div class='line'>I lived and breathed: the dew, the sun, the rain,</div> + <div class='line'>Unto the growth of body and of mind;</div> + <div class='line'>The blood, the breath, the feeling and the motion,</div> + <div class='line'>The slope into the current of my years,</div> + <div class='line'>Which drove them onward—made them sensible;</div> + <div class='line'>The precious jewel of my honour'd life,</div> + <div class='line'>Erewhile close couch'd in golden happiness,</div> + <div class='line'>Now proved counterfeit, was shaken out,</div> + <div class='line'>And, trampled on, left to its own decay.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Sometimes I thought Camilla was no more,</div><a name='Page_154'></a> + <div class='line'>Some one had told me she was dead, and ask'd me</div> + <div class='line'>If I would see her burial: then I seem'd</div> + <div class='line'>To rise, and thro' the forest-shadow borne</div> + <div class='line'>With more than mortal swiftness, I ran down</div> + <div class='line'>The sleepy sea-bank, till I came upon</div> + <div class='line'>The rear of a procession, curving round</div> + <div class='line'>The silver-sheeted bay: in front of which</div> + <div class='line'>Six stately virgins, all in white, upbare</div> + <div class='line'>A broad earth-sweeping pall of whitest lawn,</div> + <div class='line'>Wreathed round the bier with garlands: in the distance,</div> + <div class='line'>From out the yellow woods, upon the hill,</div> + <div class='line'>Look'd forth the summit and the pinnacles</div> + <div class='line'>Of a grey steeple. All the pageantry,</div> + <div class='line'>Save those six virgins which upheld the bier,</div> + <div class='line'>Were stoled from head to foot in flowing black;</div> + <div class='line'>One walk'd abreast with me, and veiled his brow,</div> + <div class='line'>And he was loud in weeping and in praise</div> + <div class='line'>Of the departed: a strong sympathy</div> + <div class='line'>Shook all my soul: I flung myself upon him</div> + <div class='line'>In tears and cries: I told him all my love,</div> + <div class='line'>How I had loved her from the first; whereat</div> + <div class='line'>He shrunk and howl'd, and from his brow drew back</div> + <div class='line'>His hand to push me from him; and the face</div> + <div class='line'>The very face and form of Lionel,</div> + <div class='line'>Flash'd through my eyes into my innermost brain,</div> + <div class='line'>And at his feet I seemed to faint and fall,</div> + <div class='line'>To fall and die away. I could not rise,</div> + <div class='line'>Albeit I strove to follow. They pass'd on,</div><a name='Page_155'></a> + <div class='line'>The lordly Phantasms; in their floating folds</div> + <div class='line'>They pass'd and were no more: but I had fall'n</div> + <div class='line'>Prone by the dashing runnel on the grass.</div> + </div> + <div class='stanza'> + <div class='line'>Always th' inaudible, invisible thought</div> + <div class='line'>Artificer and subject, lord and slave</div> + <div class='line'>Shaped by the audible and visible,</div> + <div class='line'>Moulded the audible and visible;</div> + <div class='line'>All crisped sounds of wave, and leaf and wind,</div> + <div class='line'>Flatter'd the fancy of my fading brain;</div> + <div class='line'>The storm-pavilion'd element, the wood,</div> + <div class='line'>The mountain, the three cypresses, the cave,</div> + <div class='line'>Were wrought into the tissue of my dream.</div> + <div class='line'>The moanings in the forest, the loud stream,</div> + <div class='line'>Awoke me not, but were a part of sleep;</div> + <div class='line'>And voices in the distance, calling to me,</div> + <div class='line'>And in my vision bidding me dream on,</div> + <div class='line'>Like sounds within the twilight realms of dreams,</div> + <div class='line'>Which wander round the bases of the hills,</div> + <div class='line'>And murmur in the low-dropt eaves of sleep,</div> + <div class='line'>But faint within the portals. Oftentimes</div> + <div class='line'>The vision had fair prelude, in the end</div> + <div class='line'>Opening on darkness, stately vestibules</div> + <div class='line'>To cares and shows of Death; whether the mind,</div> + <div class='line'>With a revenge even to itself unknown,</div> + <div class='line'>Made strange division of its suffering</div> + <div class='line'>With her, whom to have suffering view'd had been</div> + <div class='line'>Extremest pain; or that the clear-eyed Spirit,</div> + <div class='line'>Being blasted in the Present, grew at length</div><a name='Page_156'></a> + <div class='line'>Prophetical and prescient of whate'er</div> + <div class='line'>The Future had in store; or that which most</div> + <div class='line'>Enchains belief, the sorrow of my spirit</div> + <div class='line'>Was of so wide a compass it took in</div> + <div class='line'>All I had loved, and my dull agony.</div> + <div class='line'>Ideally to her transferred, became</div> + <div class='line'>Anguish intolerable.</div> + <div class='line8'>The day waned;</div> + <div class='line'>Alone I sat with her: about my brow</div> + <div class='line'>Her warm breath floated in the utterance</div> + <div class='line'>Of silver-chorded tones: her lips were sunder'd</div> + <div class='line'>With smiles of tranquil bliss, which broke in light</div> + <div class='line'>Like morning from her eyes—her eloquent eyes</div> + <div class='line'>(As I have seen them many hundred times),</div> + <div class='line'>Fill'd all with clear pure fire, thro' mine down rain'd</div> + <div class='line'>Their spirit-searching splendours. As a vision</div> + <div class='line'>Unto a haggard prisoner, iron-stay'd</div> + <div class='line'>In damp and dismal dungeons underground</div> + <div class='line'>Confined on points of faith, when strength is shock'd</div> + <div class='line'>With torment, and expectancy of worse</div> + <div class='line'>Upon the morrow, thro' the ragged walls,</div> + <div class='line'>All unawares before his half-shut eyes,</div> + <div class='line'>Comes in upon him in the dead of night,</div> + <div class='line'>And with th' excess of sweetness and of awe,</div> + <div class='line'>Makes the heart tremble, and the eyes run over</div> + <div class='line'>Upon his steely gyves; so those fair eyes</div> + <div class='line'>Shone on my darkness forms which ever stood</div> + <div class='line'>Within the magic cirque of memory,</div><a name='Page_157'></a> + <div class='line'>Invisible but deathless, waiting still</div> + <div class='line'>The edict of the will to reassume</div> + <div class='line'>The semblance of those rare realities</div> + <div class='line'>Of which they were the mirrors. Now the light,</div> + <div class='line'>Which was their life, burst through the cloud of thought</div> + <div class='line'>Keen, irrepressible.</div> + <div class='line12'>It was a room</div> + <div class='line'>Within the summer-house of which I spoke,</div> + <div class='line'>Hung round with paintings of the sea, and one</div> + <div class='line'>A vessel in mid-ocean, her heaved prow</div> + <div class='line'>Clambering, the mast bent, and the revin wind</div> + <div class='line'>In her sail roaring. From the outer day,</div> + <div class='line'>Betwixt the closest ivies came a broad</div> + <div class='line'>And solid beam of isolated light,</div> + <div class='line'>Crowded with driving atomies, and fell</div> + <div class='line'>Slanting upon that picture, from prime youth</div> + <div class='line'>Well-known, well-loved. She drew it long ago</div> + <div class='line'>Forth gazing on the waste and open sea,</div> + <div class='line'>One morning when the upblown billow ran</div> + <div class='line'>Shoreward beneath red clouds, and I had pour'd</div> + <div class='line'>Into the shadowing pencil's naked forms</div> + <div class='line'>Colour and life: it was a bond and seal</div> + <div class='line'>Of friendship, spoken of with tearful smiles;</div> + <div class='line'>A monument of childhood and of love,</div> + <div class='line'>The poesy of childhood; my lost love</div> + <div class='line'>Symbol'd in storm. We gazed on it together</div> + <div class='line'>In mute and glad remembrance, and each heart</div> + <div class='line'>Grew closer to the other, and the eye</div> + <div class='line'>Was riveted and charm-bound, gazing like</div><a name='Page_158'></a> + <div class='line'>The Indian on a still-eyed snake, low crouch'd</div> + <div class='line'>A beauty which is death, when all at once</div> + <div class='line'>That painted vessel, as with inner life,</div> + <div class='line'>'Gan rock and heave upon that painted sea;</div> + <div class='line'>An earthquake, my loud heartbeats, made the ground</div> + <div class='line'>Roll under us, and all at once soul, life,</div> + <div class='line'>And breath, and motion, pass'd and flow'd away</div> + <div class='line'>To those unreal billows: round and round</div> + <div class='line'>A whirlwind caught and bore us; mighty gyves,</div> + <div class='line'>Rapid and vast, of hissing spray wind-driven</div> + <div class='line'>Far through the dizzy dark. Aloud she shriek'd—</div> + <div class='line'>My heart was cloven with pain. I wound my arms</div> + <div class='line'>About her: we whirl'd giddily: the wind</div> + <div class='line'>Sung: but I clasp'd her without fear: her weight</div> + <div class='line'>Shrank in my grasp, and over my dim eyes</div> + <div class='line'>And parted lips which drank her breath, down hung</div> + <div class='line'>The jaws of Death: I, screaming, from me flung</div> + <div class='line'>The empty phantom: all the sway and whirl</div> + <div class='line'>Of the storm dropt to windless calm, and I</div> + <div class='line'>Down welter'd thro' the dark ever and ever.</div> + </div> +</div> + +<p> </p><hr /><p> </p> + +<h2><a name='Page_159'></a>Index to First Lines</h2> +<ul> + <li><a href='#Page_92'>A gate and a field half ploughed</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_55'>All thoughts, all creeds, all dreams, are true</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_33'>Angels have talked with him and showed him thrones</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_85'>As when a man, that sails in a balloon</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_80'>Blow ye the trumpets, gather from afar</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_90'>But she tarries in her place</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_65'>Check every outflash, every ruder sally</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_44'>Could I outwear my present state of woe</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_37'>Ere yet my heart was sweet Love's tomb</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_29'>Every day hath its night</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_102'>First drink a health, this solemn night</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_110'>God bless our Prince and Bride</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_41'>Heaven weeps above the earth all night</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_119'>Here far away, seen from the topmost cliff</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_25'>His eyes in eclipse</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_114'>Home they brought him slain with spears</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_105'>How much I love this writer's manly style</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_97'>How often, when a child I lay reclined</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_23'>I am any man's suitor</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_115'>I stood on a tower in the wet</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_11'>I stood upon the Mountain which o'erlooks</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_28'>I' the glooming light</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_66'>Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_77'>My Rosalind, my Rosalind</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_81'>O darling room, my heart's delight</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_71'>Oh, Beauty, passing beauty! sweetest sweet!</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_31'>Oh, go not yet, my love</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_42'>O maiden fresher than the first green leaf</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_64'>O sad <i>No more</i>! O sweet <i>No more</i></a><a name='Page_160'></a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_43'>O thou whose fringèd lids I gaze upon</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_99'>Rise, Britons, rise, if manhood be not dead</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_27'>Sainted Juliet! dearest name</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_46'>Shall the hag Evil die with the child of Good</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_93'>Sure never yet was Antelope</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_56'>The lintwhite and the throstlecock</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_72'>The Northwind fall'n in the new starréd night</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_47'>The pallid thunderstricken sigh for gain</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_67'>There are three things that fill my heart with sighs</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_89'>Therefore your halls, your ancient colleges</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_52'>There is no land like England</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_38'>The varied earth, the moving heaven</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_48'>Thou, from the first, unborn, undying love</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_45'>Though Night hath climbed her peak</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_54'>Two bees within a chrystal flowerbell rockèd</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_35'>Voice of the summerwind</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_83'>We have had enough of motion</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_94'>We know him, out of Shakespeare's art</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_98'>What time I wasted youthful hours</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_61'>Where is the Giant of the Sun, which stood</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_79'>Who can say</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_50'>Who fears to die? Who fears to die</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_63'>With roses musky breathed</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_40'>You cast to ground the hope which once was mine</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_82'>You did late review my lays</a></li> + <li><a href='#Page_111'>Your ringlets, your ringlets</a></li> +</ul> + + +<hr /> +<h4>Footnotes<a name='Page_161'></a></h4> + +<div class='note'><a name='Footnote_A_1'></a><a href='#FNanchor_A_1'>[A]</a> Mr Swinburne failed to find this couplet in any of +Chapman's original poems or translations, and was of opinion that it +is Tennyson's own.</div> + +<div class='note'><a name='Footnote_B_2'></a><a href='#FNanchor_B_2'>[B]</a> Be ye perfect even as your Father in Heaven is perfect.</div> + +<div class='note'><a name='Footnote_C_3'></a><a href='#FNanchor_C_3'>[C]</a> His crispè hair in ringis was yronne.—Chaucer, <i>Knight's +Tale</i>. (Tennyson's note.)</div> + +<div class='note'><a name='Footnote_D_4'></a><a href='#FNanchor_D_4'>[D]</a> 'As soon as this poem was published, I altered the second +line to "All books and pictures ranged aright"; yet "Dear room, the +apple of my sight" (which was much abused) is not as bad as "Do go, +dear rain, do go away."' [Note initialed 'A.T.' in <i>Life</i>, vol. I, p. +89.] The worthlessness of much of the criticism lavished on Tennyson +by his coterie of adulating friends may be judged from the fact that +Arthur Hallam wrote to Tennyson that this poem was 'mighty +pleasant.'</div> + +<hr /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Suppressed Poems of Alfred Lord +Tennyson, by Alfred Lord Tennyson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS TENNYSON *** + +***** This file should be named 14094-h.htm or 14094-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/0/9/14094/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Cori Samuel and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Suppressed Poems of Alfred Lord Tennyson + +Author: Alfred Lord Tennyson + +Release Date: November 19, 2004 [EBook #14094] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS TENNYSON *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Cori Samuel and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + + + + +THE SUPPRESSED POEMS + +OF + +ALFRED LORD TENNYSON + +1830-1868 + + +Edited By J.C. Thomson + + + + +Contents + + +EDITOR'S NOTE + + +TIMBUCTOO + + +POEMS CHIEFLY LYRICAL + + i. The How and the Why + ii. The Burial of Love + iii. To ---- + iv. Song _'I' the gloaming light'_ + v. Song _'Every day hath its night'_ + vi. Hero to Leander + vii. The Mystic + viii. The Grasshopper + ix. Love, Pride and Forgetfulness + x. Chorus _'The varied earth, the moving heaven'_ + xi. Lost Hope + xii. The Tears of Heaven + xiii. Love and Sorrow + xiv. To a Lady sleeping + xv. Sonnet _'Could I outwear my present state of woe'_ + xvi. Sonnet _'Though night hath climbed'_ + xvii. Sonnet _'Shall the hag Evil die'_ +xviii. Sonnet _'The pallid thunder stricken sigh for gain'_ + xix. Love + xx. English War Song + xxi. National Song + xxii. Dualisms +xxiii. [Greek: ohi rheontes] + xxiv. Song _'The lintwhite and the throstlecock'_ + + +CONTRIBUTIONS TO PERIODICALS, 1831-32 + + xxv. A Fragment + xxvi. Anacreontics + xxvii. _'O sad no more! O sweet no more'_ +xxviii. Sonnet _'Check every outflash, every ruder sally'_ + xxix. Sonnet _'Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh'_ + xxx. Sonnet _'There are three things that fill my heart with sighs'_ + + +POEMS, 1833 + + xxxi. Sonnet _'Oh beauty, passing beauty'_ + xxxii. The Hesperides + xxxiii. Rosalind + xxxiv. Song _'Who can say'_ + xxxv. Sonnet _'Blow ye the trumpet, gather from afar'_ + xxxvi. O Darling Room + xxxvii. To Christopher North +xxxviii. The Lotos-Eaters + xxxix. A Dream of Fair Women + + +MISCELLANEOUS POEMS AND CONTRIBUTIONS TO PERIODICALS, 1833-68 + + xl. Cambridge + xli. The Germ of 'Maud' + xlii. _'A gate and afield half ploughed'_ + xliii. The Skipping-Rope + xliv. The New Timon and the Poets + xlv. Mablethorpe + xlvi. _'What time I wasted youthful hours'_ + xlvii. Britons, guard your own +xlviii. Hands all round + xlix. Suggested by reading an article in a newspaper + l. _'God bless our Prince and Bride'_ + li. The Ringlet + lii. Song _'Home they brought him slain with spears'_ + liii. 1865-1866 + + +THE LOVER'S TALE, 1833. + + +INDEX OF FIRST LINES + + + + +_Note_ + +_To those unacquainted with Tennyson's conscientious methods, it may +seem strange that a volume of 160 pages is necessary to contain those +poems written and published by him during his active literary career, +and ultimately rejected as unsatisfactory. Of this considerable body +of verse, a great part was written, not in youth or old age, but while +Tennyson's powers were at their greatest. Whatever reasons may once +have existed for suppressing the poems that follow, the student of +English literature is entitled to demand that the whole body of +Tennyson's work should now be open, without restriction or impediment, +to the critical study to which the works of his compeers are +subjected._ + +_The bibliographical notes prefixed to the various poems give, in every +case, the date and medium of first publication._ + +_J.C.T._ + + + + +=Timbuctoo= + +A Poem Which Obtained The Chancellor's Medal At The +_Cambridge Commencement_ MDCCCXXIX + +By +A. Tennyson +Of Trinity College + +[Printed in Cambridge _Chronicle and Journal_ of Friday, July 10, +1829, and at the University Press by James Smith, among the +_Prolusiones Academicae Praemiis annuis dignatae et in Curia +Cantabrigiensi Recitatae Comitiis Maximis_, MDCCCXXIX. Republished in +_Cambridge Prize Poems_, 1813 to 1858, by Messrs. Macmillan in 1859, +without alteration; and in 1893 in the appendix to a reprint of _Poems +by Two Brothers_]. + + +=Timbuctoo= + + Deep in that lion-haunted inland lies + A mystic city, goal of high Emprize.[A] + --CHAPMAN. + + I stood upon the Mountain which o'erlooks + The narrow seas, whose rapid interval + Parts Afric from green Europe, when the Sun + Had fall'n below th' Atlantick, and above + The silent Heavens were blench'd with faery light, + Uncertain whether faery light or cloud, + Flowing Southward, and the chasms of deep, deep blue + Slumber'd unfathomable, and the stars + Were flooded over with clear glory and pale. + I gaz'd upon the sheeny coast beyond, + There where the Giant of old Time infixed + The limits of his prowess, pillars high + Long time eras'd from Earth: even as the sea + When weary of wild inroad buildeth up + Huge mounds whereby to stay his yeasty waves. + And much I mus'd on legends quaint and old + Which whilome won the hearts of all on Earth + Toward their brightness, ev'n as flame draws air; + But had their being in the heart of Man + As air is th' life of flame: and thou wert then + A center'd glory-circled Memory, + Divinest Atalantis, whom the waves + Have buried deep, and thou of later name + Imperial Eldorado root'd with gold: + Shadows to which, despite all shocks of Change, + All on-set of capricious Accident, + Men clung with yearning Hope which would not die. + As when in some great City where the walls + Shake, and the streets with ghastly faces throng'd + Do utter forth a subterranean voice, + Among the inner columns far retir'd + At midnight, in the lone Acropolis. + Before the awful Genius of the place + Kneels the pale Priestess in deep faith, the while + Above her head the weak lamp dips and winks + Unto the fearful summoning without: + Nathless she ever clasps the marble knees, + Bathes the cold hand with tears, and gazeth on + Those eyes which wear no light but that wherewith + Her phantasy informs them. + + Where are ye + Thrones of the Western wave, fair Islands green? + Where are your moonlight halls, your cedarn glooms, + The blossoming abysses of your hills? + Your flowering Capes and your gold-sanded bays + Blown round with happy airs of odorous winds? + Where are the infinite ways which, Seraphtrod, + Wound thro' your great Elysian solitudes, + Whose lowest depths were, as with visible love, + Fill'd with Divine effulgence, circumfus'd, + Flowing between the clear and polish'd stems, + And ever circling round their emerald cones + In coronals and glories, such as gird + The unfading foreheads of the Saints in Heaven? + For nothing visible, they say, had birth + In that blest ground but it was play'd about + With its peculiar glory. Then I rais'd + My voice and cried 'Wide Afric, doth thy Sun + Lighten, thy hills enfold a City as fair + As those which starr'd the night o' the Elder World? + Or is the rumour of thy Timbuctoo + A dream as frail as those of ancient Time?' + + A curve of whitening, flashing, ebbing light! + A rustling of white wings! The bright descent + Of a young Seraph! and he stood beside me + There on the ridge, and look'd into my face + With his unutterable, shining orbs, + So that with hasty motion I did veil + My vision with both hands, and saw before me + Such colour'd spots as dance athwart the eyes + Of those that gaze upon the noonday Sun. + Girt with a Zone of flashing gold beneath + His breast, and compass'd round about his brow + With triple arch of everchanging bows, + And circled with the glory of living light + And alternations of all hues, he stood. + 'O child of man, why muse you here alone + Upon the Mountain, on the dreams of old + Which fill'd the Earth with passing loveliness, + Which flung strange music on the howling winds, + And odours rapt from remote Paradise? + Thy sense is clogg'd with dull mortality, + Thy spirit fetter'd with the bond of clay: + Open thine eye and see.' + + I look'd, but not + Upon his face, for it was wonderful + With its exceeding brightness, and the light + Of the great angel mind which look'd from out + The starry glowing of his restless eyes. + I felt my soul grow mighty, and my spirit + With supernatural excitation bound + Within me, and my mental eye grew large + With such a vast circumference of thought, + That in my vanity I seem'd to stand + Upon the outward verge and bound alone + Of full beatitude. Each failing sense + As with a momentary flash of light + Grew thrillingly distinct and keen. I saw + The smallest grain that dappled the dark Earth, + The indistinctest atom in deep air, + The Moon's white cities, and the opal width + Of her small glowing lakes, her silver heights + Unvisited with dew of vagrant cloud, + And the unsounded, undescended depth + Of her black hollows. The clear Galaxy + Shorn of its hoary lustre, wonderful, + Distinct and vivid with sharp points of light + Blaze within blaze, an unimagin'd depth + And harmony of planet-girded Suns + And moon-encircled planets, wheel in wheel, + Arch'd the wan Sapphire. Nay, the hum of men, + Or other things talking in unknown tongues, + And notes of busy life in distant worlds + Beat like a far wave on my anxious ear. + + A maze of piercing, trackless, thrilling thoughts + Involving and embracing each with each + Rapid as fire, inextricably link'd, + Expanding momently with every sight + And sound which struck the palpitating sense, + The issue of strong impulse, hurried through + The riv'n rapt brain: as when in some large lake + From pressure of descendant crags, which lapse + Disjointed, crumbling from their parent slope + At slender interval, the level calm + Is ridg'd with restless and increasing spheres + Which break upon each other, each th' effect + Of separate impulse, but more fleet and strong + Than its precursor, till the eyes in vain + Amid the wild unrest of swimming shade + Dappled with hollow and alternate rise + Of interpenetrated arc, would scan + Definite round. + I know not if I shape + These things with accurate similitude + From visible objects, for but dimly now, + Less vivid than a half-forgotten dream, + The memory of that mental excellence + Comes o'er me, and it may be I entwine + The indecision of my present mind + With its past clearness, yet it seems to me + As even then the torrent of quick thought + Absorbed me from the nature of itself + With its own fleetness. Where is he that, borne + Adown the sloping of an arrowy stream, + Could link his shallop to the fleeting edge, + And muse midway with philosophic calm + Upon the wondrous laws which regulate + The fierceness of the bounding element? + My thoughts which long had grovell'd in the slime + Of this dull world, like dusky worms which house + Beneath unshaken waters, but at once + Upon some earth-awakening day of spring + Do pass from gloom to glory, and aloft + Winnow the purple, bearing on both sides + Double display of starlit wings which burn + Fanlike and fibred, with intensest bloom: + E'en so my thoughts, erewhile so low, now felt + Unutterable buoyancy and strength + To bear them upward through the trackless fields + Of undefin'd existence far and free. + + Then first within the South methought I saw + A wilderness of spires, and chrystal pile + Of rampart upon rampart, dome on dome, + Illimitable range of battlement + On battlement, and the Imperial height + Of Canopy o'ercanopied. + Behind, + In diamond light, upsprung the dazzling Cones + Of Pyramids, as far surpassing Earth's + As Heaven than Earth is fairer. Each aloft + Upon his renown'd Eminence bore globes + Of wheeling suns, or stars, or semblances + Of either, showering circular abyss + Of radiance. But the glory of the place + Stood out a pillar'd front of burnish'd gold + Interminably high, if gold it were + Or metal more ethereal, and beneath + Two doors of blinding brilliance, where no gaze + Might rest, stood open, and the eye could scan + Through length of porch and lake and boundless + hall, + Part of a throne of fiery flame, wherefrom + The snowy skirting of a garment hung, + And glimpse of multitudes of multitudes + That minister'd around it--if I saw + These things distinctly, for my human brain + Stagger'd beneath the vision, and thick night + Came down upon my eyelids, and I fell. + + With ministering hand he rais'd me up; + Then with a mournful and ineffable smile, + Which but to look on for a moment fill'd + My eyes with irresistible sweet tears, + In accents of majestic melody, + Like a swol'n river's gushings in still night + Mingled with floating music, thus he spake: + 'There is no mightier Spirit than I to sway + The heart of man: and teach him to attain + By shadowing forth the Unattainable; + And step by step to scale that mighty stair + Whose landing-place is wrapt about with clouds + Of glory of Heaven.[B] With earliest Light of Spring, + And in the glow of sallow Summertide, + And in red Autumn when the winds are wild + With gambols, and when full-voiced Winter roofs + The headland with inviolate white snow, + I play about his heart a thousand ways, + Visit his eyes with visions, and his ears + With harmonies of wind and wave and wood + --Of winds which tell of waters, and of waters + Betraying the close kisses of the wind-- + And win him unto me: and few there be + So gross of heart who have not felt and known + A higher than they see: They with dim eyes + Behold me darkling. Lo! I have given _thee_ + To understand my presence, and to feel + My fullness; I have fill'd thy lips with power. + I have rais'd thee higher to the Spheres of Heaven, + Man's first, last home: and thou with ravish'd sense + Listenest the lordly music flowing from + Th' illimitable years. I am the Spirit, + The permeating life which courseth through + All th' intricate and labyrinthine veins + Of the great vine of _Fable_, which, outspread + With growth of shadowing leaf and clusters rare, + Reacheth to every corner under Heaven, + Deep-rooted in the living soil of truth: + So that men's hopes and fears take refuge in + The fragrance of its complicated glooms + And cool impleached twilights. Child of Man, + See'st thou yon river, whose translucent wave, + Forth issuing from darkness, windeth through + The argent streets o' the City, imaging + The soft inversion of her tremulous Domes; + Her gardens frequent with the stately Palm, + Her Pagods hung with music of sweet bells: + Her obelisks of ranged Chrysolite, + Minarets and towers? Lo! how he passeth by, + And gulphs himself in sands, as not enduring + To carry through the world those waves, which bore + The reflex of my City in their depths. + Oh City! Oh latest Throne! where I was rais'd + To be a mystery of loveliness + Unto all eyes, the time is well nigh come + When I must render up this glorious home + To keen _Discovery_: soon yon brilliant towers + Shall darken with the waving of her wand; + Darken, and shrink and shiver into huts, + Black specks amid a waste of dreary sand, + Low-built, mud-walled, Barbarian settlement, + How chang'd from this fair City!' + Thus far the Spirit: + Then parted Heavenward on the wing: and I + Was left alone on Calpe, and the Moon + Had fallen from the night, and all was dark! + + +[The following review of 'Timbuctoo' was published in the _Athenaeum_ +of 22nd July, 1829: 'We have accustomed ourselves to think, perhaps +without any very good reason, that poetry was likely to perish among +us for a considerable period after the great generation of poets which +is now passing away. The age seems determined to contradict us, and +that in the most decided manner; for it has put forth poetry by a +young man, and that where we should least expect it--namely, in a +prize poem. These productions have often been ingenious and elegant +but we have never before seen one of them which indicated really +first-rate poetical genius, and which would have done honour to any +men that ever wrote. Such, we do not hesitate to affirm, is the little +work before us; and the examiners seem to have felt it like ourselves, +for they have assigned the prize to the author, though the measure in +which he writes was never before, we believe, thus selected for +honour. We extract a few lines to justify our admiration (50 lines, +62-112, quoted). How many men have lived for a century who could equal +this?' At the time when this highly eulogistic notice of the youthful +unknown poet appeared, the _Athenaeum_ was edited by John Sterling and +Frederick Denison Maurice, its then proprietors.] + + +[Footnote A: Mr Swinburne failed to find this couplet in any of +Chapman's original poems or translations, and was of opinion that it +is Tennyson's own.] + +[Footnote B: Be ye perfect even as your Father in Heaven is perfect.] + + + + +=Poems Chiefly Lyrical= + +[The poems numbered I-XXIV which follow, were published in 1830 in the +volume _Poems chiefly Lyrical_. (London: Effingham Wilson, Royal +Exchange, 1830.) They were never republished by Tennyson.] + + + + +I + +=The 'How' and the 'Why'= + + I am any man's suitor, + If any will be my tutor: + Some say this life is pleasant, + Some think it speedeth fast: + In time there is no present, + In eternity no future, + In eternity no past. + We laugh, we cry, we are born, we die, + Who will riddle me the _how_ and the _why_? + + The bulrush nods unto his brother + The wheatears whisper to each other: + What is it they say? What do they there? + Why two and two make four? Why round is not square? + Why the rocks stand still, and the light clouds fly? + Why the heavy oak groans, and the white willows sigh? + Why deep is not high, and high is not deep? + Whether we wake or whether we sleep? + Whether we sleep or whether we die? + How you are you? Why I am I? + Who will riddle me the _how_ and the _why_? + + The world is somewhat; it goes on somehow; + But what is the meaning of _then_ and _now_! + I feel there is something; but how and what? + I know there is somewhat; but what and why! + I cannot tell if that somewhat be I. + + The little bird pipeth 'why! why!' + In the summerwoods when the sun falls low, + And the great bird sits on the opposite bough, + And stares in his face and shouts 'how? how?' + And the black owl scuds down the mellow twilight, + And chaunts 'how? how?' the whole of the night. + + Why the life goes when the blood is spilt? + What the life is? where the soul may lie? + Why a church is with a steeple built; + And a house with a chimney-pot? + Who will riddle me the how and the what? + Who will riddle me the what and the why? + + + + +II + +=The Burial of Love= + + His eyes in eclipse, + Pale cold his lips, + The light of his hopes unfed, + Mute his tongue, + His bow unstrung + With the tears he hath shed, + Backward drooping his graceful head. + + Love is dead; + His last arrow sped; + He hath not another dart; + Go--carry him to his dark deathbed; + Bury him in the cold, cold heart-- + Love is dead. + + Oh, truest love! art thou forlorn, + And unrevenged? Thy pleasant wiles + Forgotten, and thine innocent joy? + Shall hollow-hearted apathy, + The cruellest form of perfect scorn, + With langour of most hateful smiles, + For ever write + In the weathered light + Of the tearless eye + An epitaph that all may spy? + No! sooner she herself shall die. + + For her the showers shall not fall, + Nor the round sun that shineth to all; + Her light shall into darkness change; + For her the green grass shall not spring, + Nor the rivers flow, nor the sweet birds sing, + Till Love have his full revenge. + + + + +III + +=To ----= + + Sainted Juliet! dearest name! + If to love be life alone, + Divinest Juliet, + I love thee, and live; and yet + Love unreturned is like the fragrant flame + Folding the slaughter of the sacrifice + Offered to Gods upon an altarthrone; + My heart is lighted at thine eyes, + Changed into fire, and blown about with sighs. + + + + +IV + +=Song= + + I + + I' the glooming light + Of middle night, + So cold and white, + Worn Sorrow sits by the moaning wave; + Beside her are laid, + Her mattock and spade, + For she hath half delved her own deep grave. + Alone she is there: + The white clouds drizzle: her hair falls loose; + Her shoulders are bare; + Her tears are mixed with the bearded dews. + + II + + Death standeth by; + She will not die; + With glazed eye + She looks at her grave: she cannot sleep; + Ever alone + She maketh her moan: + She cannot speak; she can only weep; + For she will not hope. + The thick snow falls on her flake by flake, + The dull wave mourns down the slope, + The world will not change, and her heart will not break. + + + + +V + +=Song= + + I + + Every day hath its night: + Every night its morn: + Through dark and bright + Winged hours are borne; + Ah! welaway! + Seasons flower and fade; + Golden calm and storm + Mingle day by day. + There is no bright form + Doth not cast a shade-- + Ah! welaway! + + II + + When we laugh, and our mirth + Apes the happy vein, + We're so kin to earth + Pleasuance fathers pain-- + Ah! welaway! + Madness laugheth loud: + Laughter bringeth tears: + Eyes are worn away + Till the end of fears + Cometh in the shroud, + Ah! welaway! + + III + + All is change, woe or weal; + Joy is sorrow's brother; + Grief and sadness steal + Symbols of each other; + Ah! welaway! + Larks in heaven's cope + Sing: the culvers mourn + All the livelong day. + Be not all forlorn; + Let us weep in hope-- + Ah! welaway! + + + + +VI + +=Hero to Leander= + + Oh go not yet, my love, + The night is dark and vast; + The white moon is hid in her heaven above, + And the waves climb high and fast. + Oh! kiss me, kiss me, once again, + Lest thy kiss should be the last. + Oh kiss me ere we part; + Grow closer to my heart. + My heart is warmer surely than the bosom of the main. + + Oh joy! O bliss of blisses! + My heart of hearts art thou. + Come bathe me with thy kisses, + My eyelids and my brow. + Hark how the wild rain hisses, + And the loud sea roars below. + + Thy heart beats through thy rosy limbs + So gladly doth it stir; + Thine eye in drops of gladness swims. + I have bathed thee with the pleasant myrrh; + Thy locks are dripping balm; + Thou shalt not wander hence to-night, + I'll stay thee with my kisses. + To-night the roaring brine + Will rend thy golden tresses; + The ocean with the morrow light + Will be both blue and calm; + And the billow will embrace thee with a kiss as soft as mine. + + No western odours wander + On the black and moaning sea, + And when thou art dead, Leander, + My soul shall follow thee! + Oh go not yet, my love, + Thy voice is sweet and low; + The deep salt wave breaks in above + Those marble steps below. + The turretstairs are wet + That lead into the sea. + Leander! go not yet. + The pleasant stars have set! + Oh! go not, go not yet, + Or I will follow thee. + + + + +VII + +=The Mystic= + + Angels have talked with him, and showed him thrones: + Ye knew him not: he was not one of ye, + Ye scorned him with an undiscerning scorn: + Ye could not read the marvel in his eye, + The still serene abstraction; he hath felt + The vanities of after and before; + Albeit, his spirit and his secret heart + The stern experiences of converse lives, + The linked woes of many a fiery change + Had purified, and chastened, and made free. + Always there stood before him, night and day, + Of wayward vary coloured circumstance, + The imperishable presences serene, + Colossal, without form, or sense, or sound, + Dim shadows but unwaning presences + Fourfaced to four corners of the sky; + And yet again, three shadows, fronting one, + One forward, one respectant, three but one; + And yet again, again and evermore, + For the two first were not, but only seemed + One shadow in the midst of a great light, + One reflex from eternity on time, + One mighty countenance of perfect calm, + Awful with most invariable eyes. + For him the silent congregated hours, + Daughters of time, divinely tall, beneath + Severe and youthful brows, with shining eyes + Smiling a godlike smile (the innocent light + Of earliest youth pierced through and through with all + Keen knowledges of low-embowed eld) + Upheld, and ever hold aloft the cloud + Which droops low hung on either gate of life, + Both birth and death; he in the centre fixed, + Saw far on each side through the grated gates + Most pale and clear and lovely distances. + He often lying broad awake, and yet + Remaining from the body, and apart + In intellect and power and will, hath heard + Time flowing in the middle of the night, + And all things creeping to a day of doom. + How could ye know him? Ye were yet within + The narrower circle; he had well nigh reached + The last, with which a region of white flame, + Pure without heat, into a larger air + Upburning, and an ether of black hue, + Investeth and ingirds all other lives. + + + + +VIII + +=The Grasshopper= + + I + + Voice of the summerwind, + Joy of the summerplain, + Life of the summerhours, + Carol clearly, bound along. + No Tithon thou as poets feign + (Shame fall 'em they are deaf and blind) + But an insect lithe and strong, + Bowing the seeded summerflowers. + Prove their falsehood and thy quarrel, + Vaulting on thine airy feet. + Clap thy shielded sides and carol, + Carol clearly, chirrup sweet + Thou art a mailed warrior in youth and strength complete; + Armed cap-a-pie, + Full fair to see; + Unknowing fear, + Undreading loss, + A gallant cavalier + _Sans peur et sans reproche_, + In sunlight and in shadow, + The Bayard of the meadow. + + II + + I would dwell with thee, + Merry grasshopper, + Thou art so glad and free, + And as light as air; + Thou hast no sorrow or tears, + Thou hast no compt of years, + No withered immortality, + But a short youth sunny and free. + Carol clearly, bound along, + Soon thy joy is over, + A summer of loud song, + And slumbers in the clover. + What hast thou to do with evil + In thine hour of love and revel, + In thy heat of summerpride, + Pushing the thick roots aside + Of the singing flowered grasses, + That brush thee with their silken tresses? + What hast thou to do with evil, + Shooting, singing, ever springing + In and out the emerald glooms, + Ever leaping, ever singing, + Lighting on the golden blooms? + + + + +IX + +=Love, Pride and Forgetfulness= + + Ere yet my heart was sweet Love's tomb, + Love laboured honey busily. + I was the hive and Love the bee, + My heart the honey-comb. + One very dark and chilly night + Pride came beneath and held a light. + + The cruel vapours went through all, + Sweet Love was withered in his cell; + Pride took Love's sweets, and by a spell + Did change them into gall; + And Memory tho' fed by Pride + Did wax so thin on gall, + Awhile she scarcely lived at all, + What marvel that she died? + + + + +X + +=Chorus= + +_In an unpublished drama written very early._ + + The varied earth, the moving heaven, + The rapid waste of roving sea, + The fountainpregnant mountains riven + To shapes of wildest anarchy, + By secret fire and midnight storms + That wander round their windy cones, + The subtle life, the countless forms + Of living things, the wondrous tones + Of man and beast are full of strange + Astonishment and boundless change. + + The day, the diamonded light, + The echo, feeble child of sound, + The heavy thunder's girding might, + The herald lightning's starry bound, + The vocal spring of bursting bloom, + The naked summer's glowing birth, + The troublous autumn's sallow gloom, + The hoarhead winter paving earth + With sheeny white, are full of strange + Astonishment and boundless change. + + Each sun which from the centre flings + Grand music and redundant fire, + The burning belts, the mighty rings, + The murmurous planets' rolling choir, + The globefilled arch that, cleaving air, + Lost in its effulgence sleeps, + The lawless comets as they glare, + And thunder thro' the sapphire deeps + In wayward strength, are full of strange + Astonishment and boundless change. + + + + +XI + +=Lost Hope= + + You cast to ground the hope which once was mine, + But did the while your harsh decree deplore, + Embalming with sweet tears the vacant shrine, + My heart, where Hope had been and was no more. + + So on an oaken sprout + A goodly acorn grew; + But winds from heaven shook the acorn out, + And filled the cup with dew. + + + + +XII + +=The Tears of Heaven= + + Heaven weeps above the earth all night till morn, + In darkness weeps, as all ashamed to weep, + Because the earth hath made her state forlorn + With selfwrought evils of unnumbered years, + And doth the fruit of her dishonour reap. + And all the day heaven gathers back her tears + Into her own blue eyes so clear and deep, + And showering down the glory of lightsome day, + Smiles on the earth's worn brow to win her if she may. + + + + +XIII + +=Love and Sorrow= + + O maiden, fresher than the first green leaf + With which the fearful springtide flecks the lea, + Weep not, Almeida, that I said to thee + That thou hast half my heart, for bitter grief + Doth hold the other half in sovranty. + Thou art my heart's sun in love's crystalline: + Yet on both sides at once thou canst not shine: + Thine is the bright side of my heart, and thine + My heart's day, but the shadow of my heart, + Issue of its own substance, my heart's night + Thou canst not lighten even with _thy_ light, + All powerful in beauty as thou art. + Almeida, if my heart were substanceless, + Then might thy rays pass thro' to the other side, + So swiftly, that they nowhere would abide, + But lose themselves in utter emptiness. + Half-light, half-shadow, let my spirit sleep + They never learnt to love who never knew to weep. + + + + +XIV + +=To a Lady Sleeping= + + O thou whose fringed lids I gaze upon, + Through whose dim brain the winged dreams are born, + Unroof the shrines of clearest vision, + In honour of the silverflecked morn: + Long hath the white wave of the virgin light + Driven back the billow of the dreamful dark. + Thou all unwittingly prolongest night, + Though long ago listening the poised lark, + With eyes dropt downward through the blue serene, + Over heaven's parapets the angels lean. + + + + +XV + +=Sonnet= + + Could I outwear my present state of woe + With one brief winter, and indue i' the spring + Hues of fresh youth, and mightily outgrow + The wan dark coil of faded suffering-- + Forth in the pride of beauty issuing + A sheeny snake, the light of vernal bowers, + Moving his crest to all sweet plots of flowers + And watered vallies where the young birds sing; + Could I thus hope my lost delights renewing, + I straightly would commend the tears to creep + From my charged lids; but inwardly I weep: + Some vital heat as yet my heart is wooing: + This to itself hath drawn the frozen rain + From my cold eyes and melted it again. + + + + +XVI + +=Sonnet= + + Though Night hath climbed her peak of highest noon, + And bitter blasts the screaming autumn whirl, + All night through archways of the bridged pearl + And portals of pure silver walks the moon. + Wake on, my soul, nor crouch to agony: + Turn cloud to light, and bitterness to joy, + And dross to gold with glorious alchemy, + Basing thy throne above the world's annoy. + Reign thou above the storms of sorrow and ruth + That roar beneath; unshaken peace hath won thee: + So shall thou pierce the woven glooms of truth; + So shall the blessing of the meek be on thee; + So in thine hour of dawn, the body's youth, + An honourable eld shall come upon thee. + + + + +XVII + +=Sonnet= + + Shall the hag Evil die with the child of Good, + Or propagate again her loathed kind, + Thronging the cells of the diseased mind, + Hateful with hanging cheeks, a withered brood, + Though hourly pastured on the salient blood? + Oh! that the wind which bloweth cold or heat + Would shatter and o'erbear the brazen beat + Of their broad vans, and in the solitude + Of middle space confound them, and blow back + Their wild cries down their cavernthroats, and slake + With points of blastborne hail their heated eyne! + So their wan limbs no more might come between + The moon and the moon's reflex in the night; + Nor blot with floating shades the solar light. + + + + +XVIII + +=Sonnet= + + The palid thunderstricken sigh for gain, + Down an ideal stream they ever float, + And sailing on Pactolus in a boat, + Drown soul and sense, while wistfully they strain + Weak eyes upon the glistering sands that robe + The understream. The wise could he behold + Cathedralled caverns of thick-ribbed gold + And branching silvers of the central globe, + Would marvel from so beautiful a sight + How scorn and ruin, pain and hate could flow: + But Hatred in a gold cave sits below, + Pleached with her hair, in mail of argent light + Shot into gold, a snake her forehead clips + And skins the colour from her trembling lips. + + + + +XIX + +=Love= + + I + + Thou, from the first, unborn, undying love, + Albeit we gaze not on thy glories near, + Before the face of God didst breath and move, + Though night and pain and ruin and death reign here. + Thou foldest, like a golden atmosphere, + The very throne of the eternal God: + Passing through thee the edicts of his fear + Are mellowed into music, borne abroad + By the loud winds, though they uprend the sea, + Even from his central deeps: thine empery + Is over all: thou wilt not brook eclipse; + Thou goest and returnest to His Lips + Like lightning: thou dost ever brood above + The silence of all hearts, unutterable Love. + + II + + To know thee is all wisdom, and old age + Is but to know thee: dimly we behold thee + Athwart the veils of evil which enfold thee + We beat upon our aching hearts with rage; + We cry for thee: we deem the world thy tomb. + As dwellers in lone planets look upon + The mighty disk of their majestic sun, + Hallowed in awful chasms of wheeling gloom, + Making their day dim, so we gaze on thee. + Come, thou of many crowns, white-robed love, + Oh! rend the veil in twain: all men adore thee; + Heaven crieth after thee; earth waileth for thee: + Breathe on thy winged throne, and it shall move + In music and in light o'er land and sea. + + III + + And now--methinks I gaze upon thee now, + As on a serpent in his agonies + Awestricken Indians; what time laid low + And crushing the thick fragrant reeds he lies, + When the new year warm breathed on the earth, + Waiting to light him with his purple skies, + Calls to him by the fountain to uprise. + Already with the pangs of a new birth + Strain the hot spheres of his convulsed eyes, + And in his writhings awful hues begin + To wander down his sable sheeny sides, + Like light on troubled waters: from within + Anon he rusheth forth with merry din, + And in him light and joy and strength abides; + And from his brows a crown of living light + Looks through the thickstemmed woods by day and night + + + + +XX + +=English War Song= + + Who fears to die? Who fears to die? + Is there any here who fears to die + He shall find what he fears, and none shall grieve + For the man who fears to die: + But the withering scorn of the many shall cleave + To the man who fears to die. + + _Chorus_.--Shout for England! + Ho! for England! + George for England! + Merry England! + England for aye! + + The hollow at heart shall crouch forlorn, + He shall eat the bread of common scorn; + It shall be steeped in the salt, salt tear, + Shall be steeped in his own salt tear: + Far better, far better he never were born + Than to shame merry England here. + + _Chorus_.--Shout for England! etc. + + There standeth our ancient enemy; + Hark! he shouteth--the ancient enemy! + On the ridge of the hill his banners rise; + They stream like fire in the skies; + Hold up the Lion of England on high + Till it dazzle and blind his eyes. + + _Chorus_.--Shout for England! etc. + + Come along! we alone of the earth are free; + The child in our cradles is bolder than he; + For where is the heart and strength of slaves? + Oh! where is the strength of slaves? + He is weak! we are strong; he a slave, we are free; + Come along! we will dig their graves. + + _Chorus_.--Shout for England! etc. + + There standeth our ancient enemy; + Will he dare to battle with the free? + Spur along! spur amain! charge to the fight: + Charge! charge to the fight! + Hold up the Lion of England on high! + Shout for God and our right! + + _Chorus_.--Shout for England! etc. + + + + +XXI + +=National Song= + + There is no land like England + Where'er the light of day be; + There are no hearts like English hearts, + Such hearts of oak as they be. + There is no land like England + Where'er the light of day be; + There are no men like Englishmen, + So tall and bold as they be. + + _Chorus_.--For the French the Pope may shrive 'em, + For the devil a whit we heed 'em, + As for the French, God speed 'em + Unto their hearts' desire, + And the merry devil drive 'em + Through the water and the fire. + + _Chorus_.--Our glory is our freedom, + We lord it o'er the sea; + We are the sons of freedom, + We are free. + + There is no land like England, + Where'er the light of day be; + There are no wives like English wives, + So fair and chaste as they be. + There is no land like England, + Where'er the light of day be, + There are no maids like English maids, + So beautiful as they be. + + _Chorus_.--For the French, etc. + +[Sixty years after first publication this Song was incorporated in +'The Foresters' (published 1892) as the opening chorus of the second +act. The two verses were unaltered, but the two choruses were +re-written.] + + + + +XXII + +=Dualisms= + + Two bees within a chrystal flowerbell rocked + Hum a lovelay to the westwind at noontide. + Both alike, they buzz together, + Both alike, they hum together + Through and through the flowered heather. + + Where in a creeping cove the wave unshocked + Lays itself calm and wide, + Over a stream two birds of glancing feather + Do woo each other, carolling together. + Both alike, they glide together + Side by side; + Both alike, they sing together, + Arching blue-glossed necks beneath the purple weather. + + Two children lovelier than love, adown the lea are singing, + As they gambol, lilygarlands ever stringing: + Both in blosmwhite silk are frocked: + Like, unlike, they roam together + Under a summervault of golden weather; + Like, unlike, they sing together + Side by side; + Mid May's darling goldenlocked, + Summer's tanling diamondeyed. + + + + +XXIII + +[Greek: ohi rheontes] + + I + + All thoughts, all creeds, all dreams are true, + All visions wild and strange; + Man is the measure of all truth + Unto himself. All truth is change: + All men do walk in sleep, and all + Have faith in that they dream: + For all things are as they seem to all, + And all things flow like a stream. + + II + + There is no rest, no calm, no pause, + Nor good nor ill, nor light nor shade, + Nor essence nor eternal laws: + For nothing is, but all is made, + But if I dream that all these are, + They are to me for that I dream; + For all things are as they seem to all, + And all things flow like a stream. + + +Argal.--This very opinion is only true relatively to the flowing +philosophers. (Tennyson's note.) + + + + +XXIV + +=Song= + + I + + The lintwhite and the throstlecock + Have voices sweet and clear; + All in the bloomed May. + They from the blosmy brere + Call to the fleeting year, + If that he would them hear + And stay. + Alas! that one so beautiful + Should have so dull an ear. + + II + + Fair year, fair year, thy children call, + But thou art deaf as death; + All in the bloomed May. + When thy light perisheth + That from thee issueth, + Our life evanisheth: + Oh! stay. + Alas! that lips so cruel dumb + Should have so sweet a breath! + + III + + Fair year, with brows of royal love + Thou comest, as a King. + All in the bloomed May. + Thy golden largess fling, + And longer hear us sing; + Though thou art fleet of wing, + Yet stay. + Alas! that eyes so full of light + Should be so wandering! + + IV + + Thy locks are full of sunny sheen + In rings of gold yronne,[C] + All in the bloomed May, + We pri' thee pass not on; + If thou dost leave the sun, + Delight is with thee gone, + Oh! stay. + Thou art the fairest of thy feres, + We pri' thee pass not on. + +[Footnote C: His crispe hair in ringis was yronne.--Chaucer, _Knight's +Tale_. (Tennyson's note.)] + + + + +=Contributions to Periodicals 1831-32= + + +XXV + +=A Fragment= + +[Published in _The Gem: a Literary Annual_. London: W. Marshall, +Holborn Bars, mdcccxxxi.] + + Where is the Giant of the Sun, which stood + In the midnoon the glory of old Rhodes, + A perfect Idol, with profulgent brows + Far sheening down the purple seas to those + Who sailed from Mizraim underneath the star + Named of the Dragon--and between whose limbs + Of brassy vastness broad-blown Argosies + Drave into haven? Yet endure unscathed + Of changeful cycles the great Pyramids + Broad-based amid the fleeting sands, and sloped + Into the slumberous summer noon; but where, + Mysterious Egypt, are thine obelisks + Graven with gorgeous emblems undiscerned? + Thy placid Sphinxes brooding o'er the Nile? + Thy shadowy Idols in the solitudes, + Awful Memnonian countenances calm + Looking athwart the burning flats, far off + Seen by the high-necked camel on the verge + Journeying southward? Where are thy monuments + Piled by the strong and sunborn Anakim + Over their crowned brethren [Greek: ON] and [Greek: ORE]? + Thy Memnon, when his peaceful lips are kissed + With earliest rays, that from his mother's eyes + Flow over the Arabian bay, no more + Breathes low into the charmed ears of morn + Clear melody flattering the crisped Nile + By columned Thebes. Old Memphis hath gone down: + The Pharaohs are no more: somewhere in death + They sleep with staring eyes and gilded lips, + Wrapped round with spiced cerements in old grots + Rock-hewn and sealed for ever. + + + + +XXVI + +=Anacreontics= + +[Published in _The Gem: a Literary Annual_. London: W. Marshall, +Holborn Bars, mdcccxxxi.] + + With roses musky breathed, + And drooping daffodilly, + And silverleaved lily, + And ivy darkly-wreathed, + I wove a crown before her, + For her I love so dearly, + A garland for Lenora. + With a silken cord I bound it. + Lenora, laughing clearly + A light and thrilling laughter, + About her forehead wound it, + And loved me ever after. + + + + +XXVII + +[Published in _The Gem: a Literary Annual_. London: W. Marshall, +Holborn Bars, mdcccxxxi.] + + O sad _No more!_ O sweet _No more!_ + O strange _No more!_ + By a mossed brookbank on a stone + I smelt a wildweed flower alone; + There was a ringing in my ears, + And both my eyes gushed out with tears. + Surely all pleasant things had gone before, + Low-buried fathom deep beneath with thee, + NO MORE! + + + + +XXVIII + +=Sonnet= + +[Published in the _Englishman's Magazine_, August, 1831. London: +Edward Moxon, 64 New Bond Street. Reprinted in _Friendship's Offering: +a Literary Album_ for 1833. London; Smith and Elder.] + + Check every outflash, every ruder sally + Of thought and speech; speak low, and give up wholly + Thy spirit to mild-minded Melancholy; + This is the place. Through yonder poplar alley + Below, the blue-green river windeth slowly; + But in the middle of the sombre valley + The crisped waters whisper musically, + And all the haunted place is dark and holy. + The nightingale, with long and low preamble, + Warbled from yonder knoll of solemn larches, + And in and out the woodbine's flowery arches + The summer midges wove their wanton gambol, + And all the white-stemmed pinewood slept above-- + When in this valley first I told my love. + + + + +XXIX + +=Sonnet= + +[Published in _Friendships Offering: a Literary Album_ for 1832. +London: Smith and Elder.] + + Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh: + Thy woes are birds of passage, transitory: + Thy spirit, circled with a living glory, + In summer still a summer joy resumeth. + Alone my hopeless melancholy gloometh, + Like a lone cypress, through the twilight hoary, + From an old garden where no flower bloometh, + One cypress on an inland promontory. + But yet my lonely spirit follows thine, + As round the rolling earth night follows day: + But yet thy lights on my horizon shine + Into my night when thou art far away; + I am so dark, alas! and thou so bright, + When we two meet there's never perfect light. + + + + +XXX + +=Sonnet= + +[Published in the _Yorkshire Literary Annual_ for 1832. Edited by C.F. +Edgar, London: Longman and Co. Reprinted in the _Athenaeum_, 4 May, +1867.] + + There are three things that fill my heart with sighs + And steep my soul in laughter (when I view + Fair maiden forms moving like melodies), + Dimples, roselips, and eyes of any hue. + + There are three things beneath the blessed skies + For which I live--black eyes, and brown and blue; + I hold them all most dear; but oh! black eyes, + I live and die, and only die for you. + + Of late such eyes looked at me--while I mused + At sunset, underneath a shadowy plane + In old Bayona, nigh the Southern Sea-- + From an half-open lattice looked at _me_. + + I saw no more only those eyes--confused + And dazzled to the heart with glorious pain. + + + + +=Poems, 1833= + + +[The poems numbered XXXI-XXXIX were published in the 1832 volume +(_Poems by Alfred Tennyson_. London: Edward Moxon, 94 New Bond Street. +MDCCCXXXIII; published December, 1832), and were thereafter +suppressed.] + + + + +XXXI + +=Sonnet= + + Oh, Beauty, passing beauty! sweetest Sweet! + How canst thou let me waste my youth in sighs; + I only ask to sit beside thy feet. + Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes, + Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold + My arms about thee--scarcely dare to speak. + And nothing seems to me so wild and bold, + As with one kiss to touch thy blessed cheek. + Methinks if I should kiss thee, no control + Within the thrilling brain could keep afloat + The subtle spirit. Even while I spoke, + The bare word KISS hath made my inner soul + To tremble like a lutestring, ere the note + Hath melted in the silence that it broke. + + + + +XXXII + +=The Hesperides= + + Hesperus and his daughters three + That sing about the golden tree. + --COMUS. + + The Northwind fall'n, in the newstarred night + Zidonian Hanno, voyaging beyond + The hoary promontory of Soloe + Past Thymiaterion, in calmed bays, + Between the Southern and the Western Horn, + Heard neither warbling of the nightingale, + Nor melody o' the Lybian lotusflute + Blown seaward from the shore; but from a slope + That ran bloombright into the Atlantic blue, + Beneath a highland leaning down a weight + Of cliffs, and zoned below with cedarshade, + Came voices, like the voices in a dream, + Continuous till he reached the other sea. + + +_Song_ + + I + + The golden apple, the golden apple, the hallowed fruit, + Guard it well, guard it warily, + Singing airily, + Standing about the charmed root. + Round about all is mute, + As the snowfield on the mountain-peaks, + As the sandfield at the mountain-foot. + Crocodiles in briny creeks + Sleep and stir not: all is mute. + If ye sing not, if ye make false measure, + We shall lose eternal pleasure, + Worth eternal want of rest. + Laugh not loudly: watch the treasure + Of the wisdom of the West. + In a corner wisdom whispers. Five and three + (Let it not be preached abroad) make an awful mystery. + For the blossom unto three-fold music bloweth; + Evermore it is born anew; + And the sap to three-fold music floweth, + From the root + Drawn in the dark, + Up to the fruit, + Creeping under the fragrant bark, + Liquid gold, honeysweet thro' and thro'. + Keen-eyed Sisters, singing airily, + Looking warily + Every way, + Guard the apple night and day, + Lest one from the East come and take it away. + + II + + Father Hesper, Father Hesper, watch, watch, ever and aye, + Looking under silver hair with a silver eye. + Father, twinkle not thy stedfast sight; + Kingdoms lapse, and climates change, and races die; + Honour comes with mystery; + Hoarded wisdom brings delight. + Number, tell them over and number + How many the mystic fruit-tree holds, + Lest the redcombed dragon slumber + Rolled together in purple folds. + Look to him, father, lest he wink, and the golden apple be stol'n away, + For his ancient heart is drunk with overwatchings night and day, + Round about the hallowed fruit tree curled-- + Sing away, sing aloud and evermore in the wind, without stop, + Lest his scaled eyelid drop, + For he is older than the world. + If he waken, we waken, + Rapidly levelling eager eyes. + If he sleep, we sleep, + Dropping the eyelid over the eyes. + If the golden apple be taken + The world will be overwise. + Five links, a golden chain, are we, + Hesper, the dragon, and sisters three, + Bound about the golden tree. + + III + + Father Hesper, Father Hesper, watch, watch, night and day, + Lest the old wound of the world be healed, + The glory unsealed, + The golden apple stol'n away, + And the ancient secret revealed. + Look from west to east along: + Father, old Himla weakens, Caucasus is bold and strong. + Wandering waters unto wandering waters call; + Let them clash together, foam and fall. + Out of watchings, out of wiles, + Comes the bliss of secret smiles, + All things are not told to all, + Half round the mantling night is drawn, + Purplefringed with even and dawn. + Hesper hateth Phosphor, evening hateth morn. + + IV + + Every flower and every fruit the redolent breath + Of this warm seawind ripeneth, + Arching the billow in his sleep; + But the land-wind wandereth, + Broken by the highland-steep, + Two streams upon the violet deep: + For the western sun and the western star, + And the low west wind, breathing afar, + The end of day and beginning of night + Make the apple holy and bright, + Holy and bright, round and full, bright and blest, + Mellowed in a land of rest; + Watch it warily day and night; + All good things are in the west, + Till midnoon the cool east light + Is shut out by the round of the tall hillbrow; + But when the fullfaced sunset yellowly + Stays on the flowering arch of the bough, + The luscious fruitage clustereth mellowly, + Goldenkernelled, goldencored, + Sunset ripened, above on the tree, + The world is wasted with fire and sword, + But the apple of gold hangs over the sea, + Five links, a golden chain, are we, + Hesper, the dragon, and sisters three, + Daughters three, + Bound about + All round about + The gnarled bole of the charmed tree, + The golden apple, the golden apple, the hallowed fruit, + Guard it well, guard it warily, + Watch it warily, + Singing airily, + Standing about the charmed root. + + + + +XXXIII + +=Rosalind= + + My Rosalind, my Rosalind, + Bold, subtle, careless Rosalind, + Is one of those who know no strife + Of inward woe or outward fear; + To whom the slope and stream of life, + The life before, the life behind, + In the ear, from far and near, + Chimeth musically clear. + My falconhearted Rosalind + Fullsailed before a vigorous wind, + Is one of those who cannot weep + For others' woes, but overleap + All the petty shocks and fears + That trouble life in early years, + With a flash of frolic scorn + And keen delight, that never falls + Away from freshness, self-upborne + With such gladness, as, whenever + The freshflushing springtime calls + To the flooding waters cool, + Young fishes, on an April morn, + Up and down a rapid river, + Leap the little waterfalls + That sing into the pebbled pool. + My happy falcon, Rosalind, + Hath daring fancies of her own, + Fresh as the dawn before the day, + Fresh as the early seasmell blown + Through vineyards from an inland bay. + My Rosalind, my Rosalind, + Because no shadow on you falls, + Think you hearts are tennis balls + To play with, wanton Rosalind? + + + + +XXXIV + +=Song= + + Who can say + Why To-day + To-morrow will be yesterday? + Who can tell + Why to smell + The violet, recalls the dewy prime + Of youth and buried time? + The cause is nowhere found in rhyme. + + + + +XXXV + +=Sonnet= + +_Written on hearing of the outbreak of the Polish Insurrection._ + + Blow ye the trumpet, gather from afar + The hosts to battle: be not bought and sold. + Arise, brave Poles, the boldest of the bold; + Break through your iron shackles--fling them far. + O for those days of Piast, ere the Czar + Grew to this strength among his deserts cold; + When even to Moscow's cupolas were rolled + The growing murmurs of the Polish war! + Now must your noble anger blaze out more + Than when from Sobieski, clan by clan, + The Moslem myriads fell, and fled before-- + Than when Zamoysky smote the Tartar Khan, + Than earlier, when on the Baltic shore + Boleslas drove the Pomeranian. + + + + +XXXVI + +=O Darling Room=[D] + + I + + O darling room, my heart's delight, + Dear room, the apple of my sight, + With thy two couches soft and white, + There is no room so exquisite, + No little room so warm and bright + Wherein to read, wherein to write. + + II + + For I the Nonnenwerth have seen, + And Oberwinter's vineyards green, + Musical Lurlei; and between + The hills to Bingen have I been, + Bingen in Darmstadt, where the Rhene + Curves towards Mentz, a woody scene. + + III + + Yet never did there meet my sight, + In any town, to left or right, + A little room so exquisite, + With two such couches soft and white; + Not any room so warm and bright, + Wherein to read, wherein to write. + +[Footnote D: 'As soon as this poem was published, I altered the second +line to "All books and pictures ranged aright"; yet "Dear room, the +apple of my sight" (which was much abused) is not as bad as "Do go, +dear rain, do go away."' [Note initialed 'A.T.' in _Life_, vol. I, p. +89.] The worthlessness of much of the criticism lavished on Tennyson +by his coterie of adulating friends may be judged from the fact that +Arthur Hallam wrote to Tennyson that this poem was 'mighty +pleasant.'] + + + + +XXXVII + +=To Christopher North= + + You did late review my lays, + Crusty Christopher; + You did mingle blame and praise, + Rusty Christopher. + When I learnt from whom it came, + I forgave you all the blame, + Musty Christopher; + I could _not_ forgive the praise, + Fusty Christopher. + +[This epigram was Tennyson's reply to an article by Professor +Wilson--'Christopher North'--in _Blackwood's Magazine_ for May 1832, +dealing in sensible fashion with Tennyson's 1830 volume, and +ridiculing the fulsome praise lavished on him by his inconsiderate +friends--especially referring to Arthur Hallam's article in the +_Englishman's Magazine_ for August, 1831.] + + + + +XXXVIII + +=The Lotos-Eaters= + +[These forty lines formed the conclusion to the original (1833) +version of the poem. When the poem was reprinted in the 1842 volumes +these lines were suppressed.] + + We have had enough of motion, + Weariness and wild alarm, + Tossing on the tossing ocean, + Where the tusked seahorse walloweth + In a stripe of grassgreen calm, + At noon-tide beneath the lea; + And the monstrous narwhale swalloweth + His foamfountains in the sea. + Long enough the winedark wave our weary bark did carry. + This is lovelier and sweeter, + Men of Ithaca, this is meeter, + In the hollow rosy vale to tarry, + Like a dreamy Lotos-eater, a delirious Lotos-eater! + We will eat the Lotos, sweet + As the yellow honeycomb, + In the valley some, and some + On the ancient heights divine; + And no more roam, + On the loud hoar foam, + To the melancholy home + At the limit of the brine, + The little isle of Ithaca, beneath the day's decline. + We'll lift no more the shattered oar, + No more unfurl the straining sail; + With the blissful Lotos-eaters pale + We will abide in the golden vale + Of the Lotos-land, till the Lotos fail; + We will not wander more. + Hark! how sweet the horned ewes bleat + On the solitary steeps, + And the merry lizard leaps, + And the foam-white waters pour; + And the dark pine weeps, + And the lithe vine creeps, + And the heavy melon sleeps + On the level of the shore: + Oh! islanders of Ithaca, we will not wander more, + Surely, surely, slumber is more sweet than toil, the shore + Than labour in the ocean, and rowing with the oar, + Oh! islanders of Ithaca, we will return no more. + + + + +XXXIX + +=A Dream of Fair Women= + +[In the 1833 volume the poem opened with the following four verses, +suppressed after 1842. These Fitz Gerald considered made 'a perfect +poem by themselves.'] + + As when a man, that sails in a balloon, + Downlooking sees the solid shining ground + Stream from beneath him in the broad blue noon, + Tilth, hamlet, mead and mound: + + And takes his flags and waves them to the mob + That shout below, all faces turned to where + Glows rubylike the far-up crimson globe, + Filled with a finer air: + + So, lifted high, the poet at his will + Lets the great world flit from him, seeing all, + Higher thro' secret splendours mounting still, + Self-poised, nor fears to fall. + + Hearing apart the echoes of his fame. + While I spoke thus, the seedsman, Memory, + Sowed my deep-furrowed thought with many a name + Whose glory will not die. + + + + +=Miscellaneous Poems and Contributions to Periodicals= +=1833-1868= + + + + +XL + +=Cambridge= + +[This poem is written in pencil on the fly-leaf of a copy of _Poems_ +1833 in the Dyce Collection in South Kensington Museum. Reprinted with +many alterations in _Life_, vol. I, p. 67.] + + Therefore your halls, your ancient colleges, + Your portals statued with old kings and queens, + Your bridges and your busted libraries, + Wax-lighted chapels and rich carved screens, + Your doctors and your proctors and your deans + Shall not avail you when the day-beam sports + New-risen o'er awakened Albion--No, + Nor yet your solemn organ-pipes that blow + Melodious thunders through your vacant courts + At morn and even; for your manner sorts + Not with this age, nor with the thoughts that roll, + Because the words of little children preach + Against you,--ye that did profess to teach + And have taught nothing, feeding on the soul. + + + + +XLI + +=The Germ of 'Maud'= + +[There was published in 1837 in _The Tribute_, (a collection of +original poems by various authors, edited by Lord Northampton), a +contribution by Tennyson entitled 'Stanzas,' consisting of xvi stanzas +of varying lengths (110 lines in all). In 1855 the first xii stanzas +were published as the fourth section of the second part of 'Maud.' +Some verbal changes and transpositions of lines were made; a new +stanza (the present sixth) and several new lines were introduced, and +the xth stanza of 1837 became the xiiith of 1855. But stanzas xiii-xvi +of 1837 have never been reprinted in any edition of Tennyson's works, +though quoted in whole or part in various critical studies of the +poet. Swinburne refers to this poem as 'the poem of deepest charm and +fullest delight of pathos and melody ever written, even by Mr +Tennyson.' This poem in _The Tribute_ gained Tennyson his first notice +in the _Edinburgh Review_, which had till then ignored him.] + + XIII + + But she tarries in her place + And I paint the beauteous face + Of the maiden, that I lost, + In my inner eyes again, + Lest my heart be overborne, + By the thing I hold in scorn, + By a dull mechanic ghost + And a juggle of the brain. + + XIV + + I can shadow forth my bride + As I knew her fair and kind + As I woo'd her for my wife; + She is lovely by my side + In the silence of my life-- + 'Tis a phantom of the mind. + + XV + + 'Tis a phantom fair and good + I can call it to my side, + So to guard my life from ill, + Tho' its ghastly sister glide + And be moved around me still + With the moving of the blood + That is moved not of the will. + + XVI + + Let it pass, the dreary brow, + Let the dismal face go by, + Will it lead me to the grave? + Then I lose it: it will fly: + Can it overlast the nerves? + Can it overlive the eye? + But the other, like a star, + Thro' the channel windeth far + Till it fade and fail and die, + To its Archetype that waits + Clad in light by golden gates, + Clad in light the Spirit waits + To embrace me in the sky. + + + + +XLII + +[On the fly-leaf of a book illustrated by Bewick, in the library of +the late Lord Ravensworth, the following lines in Tennyson's autograph +were discovered in 1903.] + + A gate and a field half ploughed, + A solitary cow, + A child with a broken slate, + And a titmarsh in the bough. + But where, alack, is Bewick + To tell the meaning now? + + + + +XLIII + +=The Skipping-Rope= + +[This poem, published in the second volume of _Poems by Alfred +Tennyson_ (in two volumes, London, Edward Moxon, MDCCCXLII), was +reprinted in every edition until 1851, when it was suppressed.] + + Sure never yet was Antelope + Could skip so lightly by. + Stand off, or else my skipping-rope + Will hit you in the eye. + How lightly whirls the skipping-rope! + How fairy-like you fly! + Go, get you gone, you muse and mope-- + I hate that silly sigh. + Nay, dearest, teach me how to hope, + Or tell me how to die. + There, take it, take my skipping-rope + And hang yourself thereby. + + + + +XLIV + +=The New Timon and the Poets= + +[From _Punch_, February 28, 1846. Bulwer Lytton published in 1845 his +satirical poem 'New Timon: a Romance of London,' in which he bitterly +attacked Tennyson for the civil list pension granted the previous +year, particularly referring to the poem 'O Darling Room' in the 1833 +volume. Tennyson replied in the following vigorous verses, which made +the literary sensation of the year. Tennyson afterwards declared: 'I +never sent my lines to _Punch_. John Forster did. They were too +bitter. I do not think that I should ever have published +them.'--_Life_, vol. I, p. 245.] + + We know him, out of Shakespeare's art, + And those fine curses which he spoke; + The old Timon, with his noble heart, + That, strongly loathing, greatly broke. + + So died the Old: here comes the New: + Regard him: a familiar face: + I _thought_ we knew him: What, it's you + The padded man--that wears the stays-- + + Who killed the girls and thrill'd the boys + With dandy pathos when you wrote, + A Lion, you, that made a noise, + And shook a mane en papillotes. + + And once you tried the Muses too: + You fail'd, Sir: therefore now you turn, + You fall on those who are to you + As captain is to subaltern. + + But men of long enduring hopes, + And careless what this hour may bring, + Can pardon little would-be Popes + And Brummels, when they try to sting. + + An artist, Sir, should rest in art, + And wave a little of his claim; + To have the deep poetic heart + Is more than all poetic fame. + + But you, Sir, you are hard to please; + You never look but half content: + Nor like a gentleman at ease + With moral breadth of temperament. + + And what with spites and what with fears, + You cannot let a body be: + It's always ringing in your ears, + 'They call this man as good as _me_.' + + What profits now to understand + The merits of a spotless shirt-- + A dapper boot--a little hand-- + If half the little soul is dirt? + + _You_ talk of tinsel! why we see + The old mark of rouge upon your cheeks. + _You_ prate of nature! you are he + That spilt his life about the cliques. + + A Timon you! Nay, nay, for shame: + It looks too arrogant a jest-- + The fierce old man--to take _his_ name + You bandbox. Off, and let him rest. + + + + +XLV + +=Mablethorpe= + +[Published in _Manchester Athaenaum Album_, 1850. Written, 1837. +Republished, altered, in _Life_, vol. I, p. 161.] + + How often, when a child I lay reclined, + I took delight in this locality! + Here stood the infant Ilion of the mind, + And here the Grecian ships did seem to be. + + And here again I come and only find + The drain-cut levels of the marshy lea,-- + Gray sand banks and pale sunsets--dreary wind, + Dim shores, dense rains, and heavy clouded sea. + + + + +XLVI + +[Published in _The Keepsake for 1851: an illustrated annual_, edited +by Miss Power. London: David Bogue. To this issue of the Keepsake +Tennyson also contributed 'Come not when I am dead' now included in +the collected Works.] + + What time I wasted youthful hours + One of the shining winged powers, + Show'd me vast cliffs with crown of towers, + + As towards the gracious light I bow'd, + They seem'd high palaces and proud, + Hid now and then with sliding cloud. + + He said, 'The labour is not small; + Yet winds the pathway free to all:-- + Take care thou dost not fear to fall!' + + + + +XLVII + +=Britons, Guard your Own= + +[Published in _The Examiner_, January 31, 1852. Verses 1 (considerably +altered), 7, 8 and 10, are reprinted in Life, vol. I, p. 344.] + + Rise, Britons, rise, if manhood be not dead; + The world's last tempest darkens overhead; + The Pope has bless'd him; + The Church caress'd him; + He triumphs; maybe, we shall stand alone: + Britons, guard your own. + + His ruthless host is bought with plunder'd gold, + By lying priest's the peasant's votes controlled. + All freedom vanish'd, + The true men banished, + He triumphs; maybe, we shall stand alone. + Britons, guard your own. + + Peace-lovers we--sweet Peace we all desire-- + Peace-lovers we--but who can trust a liar?-- + Peace-lovers, haters + Of shameless traitors, + We hate not France, but this man's heart of stone. + Britons, guard your own. + + We hate not France, but France has lost her voice + This man is France, the man they call her choice. + By tricks and spying, + By craft and lying, + And murder was her freedom overthrown. + Britons, guard your own. + + 'Vive l'Empereur' may follow by and bye; + 'God save the Queen' is here a truer cry. + God save the Nation, + The toleration, + And the free speech that makes a Briton known. + Britons, guard your own. + + Rome's dearest daughter now is captive France, + The Jesuit laughs, and reckoning on his chance, + Would, unrelenting, + Kill all dissenting, + Till we were left to fight for truth alone. + Britons, guard your own. + + Call home your ships across Biscayan tides, + To blow the battle from their oaken sides. + Why waste they yonder + Their idle thunder? + Why stay they there to guard a foreign throne? + Seamen, guard your own. + + We were the best of marksmen long ago, + We won old battles with our strength, the bow. + Now practise, yeomen, + Like those bowmen, + Till your balls fly as their true shafts have flown. + Yeomen, guard your own. + + His soldier-ridden Highness might incline + To take Sardinia, Belgium, or the Rhine: + Shall we stand idle, + Nor seek to bridle + His vile aggressions, till we stand alone? + Make their cause your own. + + Should he land here, and for one hour prevail, + There must no man go back to bear the tale: + No man to bear it-- + Swear it! We swear it! + Although we fought the banded world alone, + We swear to guard our own. + + + + +XLVIII + +=Hands all Round= + +[Published in _The Examiner_, February 7, 1852. Reprinted, slightly +altered, in Life, vol. I, p. 345. Included, almost entirely +re-written, in collected Works.] + + First drink a health, this solemn night, + A health to England, every guest; + That man's the best cosmopolite + Who loves his native country best. + May Freedom's oak for ever live + With stronger life from day to day; + That man's the best Conservative + Who lops the mouldered branch away. + Hands all round! + God the tyrant's hope confound! + To this great cause of Freedom drink, my friends, + And the great name of England round and round. + + A health to Europe's honest men! + Heaven guard them from her tyrants' jails! + From wronged Poerio's noisome den, + From iron limbs and tortured nails! + We curse the crimes of Southern kings, + The Russian whips and Austrian rods-- + We likewise have our evil things; + Too much we make our Ledgers, Gods. + Yet hands all round! + God the tyrant's cause confound! + To Europe's better health we drink, my friends, + And the great name of England round and round. + + What health to France, if France be she + Whom martial progress only charms? + Yet tell her--better to be free + Than vanquish all the world in arms. + Her frantic city's flashing heats + But fire, to blast the hopes of men. + Why change the titles of your streets? + You fools, you'll want them all again. + Hands all round! + God the tyrant's cause confound! + To France, the wiser France, we drink, my friends, + And the great name of England round and round. + + Gigantic daughter of the West, + We drink to thee across the flood, + We know thee most, we love thee best, + For art thou not of British blood? + Should war's mad blast again be blown, + Permit not thou the tyrant powers + To fight thy mother here alone, + But let thy broadsides roar with ours. + Hands all round! + God the tyrant's cause confound! + To our great kinsmen of the West, my friends, + And the great name of England round and round. + + O rise, our strong Atlantic sons, + When war against our freedom springs! + O speak to Europe through your guns! + They _can_ be understood by kings. + You must not mix our Queen with those + That wish to keep their people fools; + Our freedom's foemen are her foes, + She comprehends the race she rules. + Hands all round! + God the tyrant's cause confound! + To our dear kinsmen of the West, my friends, + And the great name of England round and round. + + + + +XLIX + +=Suggested by Reading an Article in a Newspaper= + +[Published in _The Examiner_, February 14, 1852, and never reprinted +nor acknowledged. The proof sheets of the poem, with alterations in +Tennyson's autograph, were offered for public sale in 1906.] + +To the Editor of _The Examiner_. + +SIR,--I have read with much interest the poems of Merlin. The enclosed +is longer than either of those, and certainly not so good: yet as I +flatter myself that it has a smack of Merlin's style in it, and as I +feel that it expresses forcibly enough some of the feelings of our +time, perhaps you may be induced to admit it. + +TALIESSEN. + + + How much I love this writer's manly style! + By such men led, our press had ever been + The public conscience of our noble isle, + Severe and quick to feel a civic sin, + To raise the people and chastise the times + With such a heat as lives in great creative rhymes. + + O you, the Press! what good from you might spring! + What power is yours to blast a cause or bless! + I fear for you, as for some youthful king, + Lest you go wrong from power in excess. + Take heed of your wide privileges! we + The thinking men of England, loathe a tyranny. + + A freeman is, I doubt not, freest here; + The single voice may speak his mind aloud; + An honest isolation need not fear + The Court, the Church, the Parliament, the crowd. + No, nor the Press! and look you well to that-- + We must not dread in you the nameless autocrat. + + And you, dark Senate of the public pen, + You may not, like yon tyrant, deal in spies. + Yours are the public acts of public men, + But yours are not their household privacies. + I grant you one of the great Powers on earth, + But be not you the blatant traitors of the hearth. + + You hide the hand that writes: it must be so, + For better so you fight for public ends; + But some you strike can scarce return the blow; + You should be all the nobler, O my friends. + Be noble, you! nor work with faction's tools + To charm a lower sphere of fulminating fools. + + But knowing all your power to heat or cool, + To soothe a civic wound or keep it raw, + Be loyal, if you wish for wholesome rule: + Our ancient boast is this--we reverence law. + We still were loyal in our wildest fights, + Or loyally disloyal battled for our rights. + + O Grief and Shame if while I preach of laws + Whereby to guard our Freedom from offence-- + And trust an ancient manhood and the cause + Of England and her health of commonsense-- + There hang within the heavens a dark disgrace, + Some vast Assyrian doom to burst upon our race. + + I feel the thousand cankers of our State, + I fain would shake their triple-folded ease, + The hogs who can believe in nothing great, + Sneering bedridden in the down of Peace + Over their scrips and shares, their meats and wine, + With stony smirks at all things human and divine! + + I honour much, I say, this man's appeal. + We drag so deep in our commercial mire, + We move so far from greatness, that I feel + Exception to be character'd in fire. + Who looks for Godlike greatness here shall see + The British Goddess, sleek Respectability. + + Alas for her and all her small delights! + She feels not how the social frame is rack'd. + She loves a little scandal which excites; + A little feeling is a want of tact. + For her there lie in wait millions of foes, + And yet the 'not too much' is all the rule she knows. + + Poor soul! behold her: what decorous calm! + She, with her week-day worldliness sufficed, + Stands in her pew and hums her decent psalm + With decent dippings at the name of Christ! + And she has mov'd in that smooth way so long, + She hardly can believe that she shall suffer wrong. + + Alas, our Church! alas, her growing ills, + And those who tolerate not her tolerance, + But needs must sell the burthen of their wills + To that half-pagan harlot kept by France! + Free subjects of the kindliest of all thrones, + Headlong they plunge their doubts among old rags and bones. + + Alas, Church writers, altercating tribes-- + The vessel and your Church may sink in storms. + Christ cried: Woe, woe, to Pharisees and Scribes! + Like them, you bicker less for truth than forms. + I sorrow when I read the things you write, + What unheroic pertness! what un-Christian spite! + + Alas, our youth, so clever yet so small, + Thin dilletanti deep in nature's plan, + Who make the emphatic One, by whom is all, + An essence less concentred than a man! + Better wild Mahmoud's war-cry once again! + O fools, we want a manlike God and Godlike men! + + Go, frightful omens. Yet once more I turn + To you that mould men's thoughts; I call on you + To make opinion warlike, lest we learn + A sharper lesson than we ever knew. + I hear a thunder though the skies are fair, + But shrill you, loud and long, the warning-note: + Prepare! + + + + +L + +[Lord Tennyson wrote, by Royal request, two stanzas which were sung as +part of _God Save the Queen_ at a State concert in connection with the +Princess Royal's marriage: these were printed in the _Times_ of +January 26, 1858.] + + God bless our Prince and Bride! + God keep their lands allied, + God save the Queen! + Clothe them with righteousness, + Crown them with happiness, + Them with all blessings bless, + God save the Queen. + + Fair fall this hallow'd hour, + Farewell our England's flower, + God save the Queen! + Farewell, fair rose of May! + Let both the peoples say, + God bless thy marriage-day, + God bless the Queen. + + + + +LI + +=The Ringlet= + +[Published in _Enoch Arden_ volume (London: E. Moxon & Co, 1864) and +never reprinted.] + + 'Your ringlets, your ringlets, + That look so golden-gay, + If you will give me one, but one, + To kiss it night and day, + Then never chilling touch of Time + Will turn it silver-gray; + And then shall I know it is all true gold + To flame and sparkle and stream as of old, + Till all the comets in heaven are cold, + And all her stars decay.' + 'Then take it, love, and put it by; + This cannot change, nor yet can I.' + + 'My ringlet, my ringlet, + That art so golden-gay, + Now never chilling touch of Time + Can turn thee silver-gray; + And a lad may wink, and a girl may hint, + And a fool may say his say; + For my doubts and fears were all amiss, + And I swear henceforth by this and this, + That a doubt will only come for a kiss, + And a fear to be kissed away.' + 'Then kiss it, love, and put it by: + If this can change, why so can I.' + + O Ringlet, O Ringlet, + I kiss'd you night and day, + And Ringlet, O Ringlet, + You still are golden-gay, + But Ringlet, O Ringlet, + You should be silver-gray: + For what is this which now I'm told, + I that took you for true gold, + She that gave you's bought and sold, + Sold, sold. + + O Ringlet, O Ringlet, + She blush'd a rosy red, + When Ringlet, O Ringlet, + She clipt you from her head, + And Ringlet, O Ringlet, + She gave you me, and said, + 'Come, kiss it, love, and put it by: + If this can change, why so can I.' + O fie, you golden nothing, fie + You golden lie. + + O Ringlet, O Ringlet, + I count you much to blame, + For Ringlet, O Ringlet, + You put me much to shame, + So Ringlet, O Ringlet, + I doom you to the flame. + For what is this which now I learn, + Has given all my faith a turn? + Burn, you glossy heretic, burn, + Burn, burn. + + + + +LII + +=Song= + +[This first form of the Song in _The Princess_ ('Home they brought her +warrior dead') was published only in _Selections from Tennyson_. +London: E. Moxon & Co, 1864.] + + Home they brought him slain with spears. + They brought him home at even-fall: + All alone she sits and hears + Echoes in his empty hall, + Sounding on the morrow. + + The Sun peeped in from open field, + The boy began to leap and prance, + Rode upon his father's lance, + Beat upon his father's shield-- + 'Oh hush, my joy, my sorrow.' + + + + +LIII + +=1865-1866= + +[Published in _Good Words_ for March 1, 1868 as a decorative page, +with an accompanying full page plate by T. Dalziel. The lines were +never reprinted.] + + I stood on a tower in the wet, + And New Year and Old Year met, + And winds were roaring and blowing; + And I said, 'O years that meet in tears, + Have ye aught that is worth the knowing? + + 'Science enough and exploring + Wanderers coming and going + Matter enough for deploring + But aught that is worth the knowing?' + + Seas at my feet were flowing + Waves on the shingle pouring, + Old Year roaring and blowing + And New Year blowing and roaring. + + + + +=The Lover's Tale= +1833 + +[It was originally intended by Tennyson that this poem should +form part of his 1833 volume. It was put in type and, according to +custom, copies were distributed among his friends, when, on the eve of +publication, he decided to omit it. Again, in 1869, it was sent to +press with a new third part added, and was again withdrawn, the third +part only--'The Golden Supper,' founded on a story in Boccaccio's +_Decameron_--being published in the volume, 'The Holy Grail.' In 1866, +1870 and 1875, attempts had been made by Mr Herne Shepherd to publish +editions of 'The Lover's Tale,' reprinted from stray proof copies of +the 1833 printing. Each of these attempts was repressed by Tennyson, +and at last in 1879 the complete poem, as now included in the +collected Works, was issued, with an apologetic reference to the +necessity of reprinting the poem to prevent its circulation in an +unauthorised form. But the 1879 issue is considerably altered from the +original issue of 1833, as written by Tennyson in his nineteenth year. +Since only as a product of Tennyson's youth does the poem merit any +attention, it has seemed good to reprint it here as originally +written.] + +A FRAGMENT + +The Poem of the Lover's Tale (the lover is supposed to be himself a +poet) was written in my nineteenth year, and consequently contains +nearly as many faults as words. That I deemed it not wholly unoriginal +is my only apology for its publication--an apology lame and poor, and +somewhat impertinent to boot: so that if its infirmities meet with +more laughter than charity in the world, I shall not raise my voice in +its defence. I am aware how deficient the Poem is in point of art, and +it is not without considerable misgivings that I have ventured to +publish even this fragment of it. 'Enough,' says the old proverb, 'is +as good as a feast.'--(Tennyson's original introductory note.) + + Here far away, seen from the topmost cliff, + Filling with purple gloom the vacancies + Between the tufted hills the sloping seas + Hung in mid-heaven, and half-way down rare sails, + White as white clouds, floated from sky to sky. + Oh! pleasant breast of waters, quiet bay, + Like to a quiet mind in the loud world, + Where the chafed breakers of the outer sea + Sunk powerless, even as anger falls aside, + And withers on the breast of peaceful love, + Thou didst receive that belt of pines, that fledged + The hills that watch'd thee, as Love watcheth Love,-- + In thine own essence, and delight thyself + To make it wholly thine on sunny days. + Keep thou thy name of 'Lover's bay': See, Sirs, + Even now the Goddess of the Past, that takes + The heart, and sometimes toucheth but one string, + That quivers, and is silent, and sometimes + Sweeps suddenly all its half-moulder'd chords + To an old melody, begins to play + On those first-moved fibres of the brain. + I come, Great mistress of the ear and eye: + Oh! lead me tenderly, for fear the mind + Rain thro' my sight, and strangling sorrow weigh + Mine utterance with lameness. Tho' long years + Have hallowed out a valley and a gulf + Betwixt the native land of Love and me, + Breathe but a little on me, and the sail + Will draw me to the rising of the sun, + The lucid chambers of the morning star, + And East of life. + Permit me, friend, I prithee, + To pass my hand across my brows, and muse + On those dear hills, that nevermore will meet + The sight that throbs and aches beneath my touch, + As tho' there beat a heart in either eye; + For when the outer lights are darken'd thus, + The memory's vision hath a keener edge. + It grows upon me now--the semicircle + Of dark blue waters and the narrow fringe + Of curving beach--its wreaths of dripping green-- + Its pale pink shells--the summer-house aloft + That open'd on the pines with doors of glass, + A mountain nest the pleasure boat that rock'd + Light-green with its own shadow, keel to keel, + Upon the crispings of the dappled waves + That blanched upon its side. + O Love, O Hope, + They come, they crowd upon me all at once, + Moved from the cloud of unforgotten things, + That sometimes on the horizon of the mind + Lies folded--often sweeps athwart in storm-- + They flash across the darkness of my brain, + The many pleasant days, the moolit nights, + The dewy dawnings and the amber eyes, + When thou and I, Camilla, thou and I + Were borne about the bay, or safely moor'd + Beneath some low brow'd cavern, where the wave + Plash'd sapping its worn ribs (the while without, + And close above us, sang the wind-tost pine, + And shook its earthly socket, for we heard, + In rising and in falling with the tide, + Close by our ears, the huge roots strain and creak), + Eye feeding upon eye with deep intent; + And mine, with love too high to be express'd + Arrested in its sphere, and ceasing from + All contemplation of all forms, did pause + To worship mine own image, laved in light, + The centre of the splendours, all unworthy + Of such a shrine--mine image in her eyes, + By diminution made most glorious, + Moved with their motions, as those eyes were moved + With motions of the soul, as my heart beat + Twice to the melody of hers. Her face + Was starry-fair, not pale, tenderly flush'd + As 'twere with dawn. She was dark-hair'd, dark-eyed; + Oh, such dark eyes! A single glance of them + Will govern a whole life from birth to death, + Careless of all things else, led on with light + In trances and in visions: look at them, + You lose yourself in utter ignorance, + You cannot find their depth; for they go back, + And farther back, and still withdraw themselves + Quite into the deep soul, that evermore, + Fresh springing from her fountains in the brain, + Still pouring thro', floods with redundant light + Her narrow portals. + + Trust me, long ago + I should have died, if it were possible + To die in gazing on that perfectness + Which I do bear within me; I had died + But from my farthest lapse, my latest ebb, + Thine image, like a charm of light and strength + Upon the waters, pushed me back again + On these deserted sands of barren life. + Tho' from the deep vault, where the heart of hope + Fell into dust, and crumbled in the dark-- + Forgetting who to render beautiful + Her countenance with quick and healthful blood-- + Thou didst not sway me upward, could I perish + With such a costly casket in the grasp + Of memory? He, that saith it, hath o'erstepp'd + The slippery footing of his narrow wit, + And fall'n away from judgment. Thou art light, + To which my spirit leaneth all her flowers, + And length of days, and immortality + Of thought, and freshness ever self-renew'd. + For Time and Grief abode too long with Life, + And like all other friends i' the world, at last + They grew aweary of her fellowship: + So Time and Grief did beckon unto Death, + And Death drew nigh and beat the doors of Life; + But thou didst sit alone in the inner house, + A wakeful port'ress and didst parle with Death, + 'This is a charmed dwelling which I hold'; + So Death gave back, and would no further come. + Yet is my life nor in the present time, + Nor in the present place. To me alone, + Pushed from his chair of regal heritage, + The Present is the vassal of the Past: + So that, in that I _have_ lived, do I live, + And cannot die, and am, in having been, + A portion of the pleasant yesterday, + Thrust forward on to-day and out of place; + A body journeying onward, sick with toil, + The lithe limbs bow'd as with a heavy weight + And all the senses weaken'd in all save that + Which, long ago, they had glean'd and garner'd up + Into the granaries of memory-- + The clear brow, bulwark of the precious brain, + Now seam'd and chink'd with years--and all the while + The light soul twines and mingles with the growths + Of vigorous early days, attracted, won, + Married, made one with, molten into all + The beautiful in Past of act or place. + Even as the all-enduring camel, driven + Far from the diamond fountain by the palms, + Toils onward thro' the middle moonlight nights, + Shadow'd and crimson'd with the drifting dust, + Or when the white heats of the blinding noons + Beat from the concave sand; yet in him keeps + A draught of that sweet fountain that he loves, + To stay his feet from falling, and his spirit + From bitterness of death. + + Ye ask me, friends, + When I began to love. How should I tell ye? + Or from the after fulness of my heart, + Flow back again unto my slender spring + And first of love, tho' every turn and depth + Between is clearer in my life than all + Its present flow. Ye know not what ye ask. + How should the broad and open flower tell + What sort of bud it was, when press'd together + In its green sheath, close lapt in silken folds? + It seemed to keep its sweetness to itself, + Yet was not the less sweet for that it seem'd. + For young Life knows not when young Life was born, + But takes it all for granted: neither Love, + Warm in the heart, his cradle can remember + Love in the womb, but resteth satisfied, + Looking on her that brought him to the light: + Or as men know not when they fall asleep + Into delicious dreams, our other life, + So know I not when I began to love. + This is my sum of knowledge--that my love + Grew with myself--and say rather, was my growth, + My inward sap, the hold I have on earth, + My outward circling air wherein I breathe, + Which yet upholds my life, and evermore + Was to me daily life and daily death: + For how should I have lived and not have loved? + Can ye take off the sweetness from the flower, + The colour and the sweetness from the rose, + And place them by themselves? or set apart + Their motions and their brightness from the stars, + And then point out the flower or the star? + Or build a wall betwixt my life and love, + And tell me where I am? 'Tis even thus: + In that I live I love; because I love + I live: whate'er is fountain to the one + Is fountain to the other; and whene'er + Our God unknits the riddle of the one, + There is no shade or fold of mystery + Swathing the other. + + Many, many years, + For they seem many and my most of life, + And well I could have linger'd in that porch, + So unproportioned to the dwelling place, + In the maydews of childhood, opposite + The flush and dawn of youth, we lived together, + Apart, alone together on those hills. + Before he saw my day my father died, + And he was happy that he saw it not: + But I and the first daisy on his grave + From the same clay came into light at once. + As Love and I do number equal years + So she, my love, is of an age with me. + How like each other was the birth of each! + The sister of my mother--she that bore + Camilla close beneath her beating heart, + Which to the imprisoned spirit of the child, + With its true touched pulses in the flow + And hourly visitation of the blood, + Sent notes of preparation manifold, + And mellow'd echoes of the outer world-- + My mother's sister, mother of my love, + Who had a twofold claim upon my heart, + One twofold mightier than the other was, + In giving so much beauty to the world, + And so much wealth as God had charged her with, + Loathing to put it from herself for ever, + Crown'd with her highest act the placid face + And breathless body of her good deeds past. + So we were born, so orphan'd. She was motherless, + And I without a father. So from each + Of those two pillars which from earth uphold + Our childhood, one had fall'n away, and all + The careful burthen of our tender years + Trembled upon the other. He that gave + Her life, to me delightedly fulfill'd + All loving-kindnesses, all offices + Of watchful care and trembling tenderness. + He worked for both: he pray'd for both: he slept + Dreaming of both; nor was his love the less + Because it was divided, and shot forth + Boughs on each side, laden with wholesome shade, + Wherein we rested sleeping or awake, + And sung aloud the matin-song of life. + + She was my foster-sister: on one arm + The flaxen ringlets of our infancies + Wander'd, the while we rested: one soft lap + Pillow'd us both: one common light of eyes + Was on us as we lay: our baby lips, + Kissing one bosom, ever drew from thence + The stream of life, one stream, one life, one blood, + One sustenance, which, still as thought grew large, + Still larger moulding all the house of thought, + Perchance assimilated all our tastes + And future fancies. 'Tis a beautiful + And pleasant meditation, what whate'er + Our general mother meant for me alone, + Our mutual mother dealt to both of us: + So what was earliest mine in earliest life, + I shared with her in whom myself remains. + As was our childhood, so our infancy, + They tell me, was a very miracle + Of fellow-feeling and communion. + They tell me that we would not be alone,-- + We cried when we were parted; when I wept, + Her smile lit up the rainbow on my tears, + Stay'd on the clouds of sorrow; that we loved + The sound of one another's voices more + Than the grey cuckoo loves his name, and learn'd + To lisp in tune together; that we slept + In the same cradle always, face to face, + Heart beating time to heart, lip pressing lip, + Folding each other, breathing on each other, + Dreaming together (dreaming of each other + They should have added) till the morning light + Sloped thro' the pines, upon the dewy pane + Falling, unseal'd our eyelids, and we woke + To gaze upon each other. If this be true, + At thought of which my whole soul languishes + And faints, and hath no pulse, no breath, as tho' + A man in some still garden should infuse + Rich attar in the bosom of the rose, + Till, drunk with its own wine and overfull + Of sweetness, and in smelling of itself, + It fall on its own thorns--if this be true-- + And that way my wish leaneth evermore + Still to believe it--'tis so sweet a thought, + Why in the utter stillness of the soul + Doth question'd memory answer not, nor tell, + Of this our earliest, our closest drawn, + Most loveliest, most delicious union? + Oh, happy, happy outset of my days! + Green springtide, April promise, glad new year + Of Being, which with earliest violets, + And lavish carol of clear-throated larks, + Fill'd all the march of life.--I will not speak of thee; + These have not seen thee, these can never know thee, + They cannot understand me. Pass on then + A term of eighteen years. Ye would but laugh + If I should tell ye how I heard in thought + Those rhymes, 'The Lion and the Unicorn' + 'The Four-and-twenty Blackbirds' 'Banbury Cross,' + 'The Gander' and 'The man of Mitylene,' + And all the quaint old scraps of ancient crones, + Which are as gems set in my memory, + Because she learn'd them with me. Or what profits it + To tell ye that her father died, just ere + The daffodil was blown; or how we found + The drowned seaman on the shore? These things + Unto the quiet daylight of your minds + Are cloud and smoke, but in the dark of mine + Show traced with flame. Move with me to that hour, + Which was the hinge on which the door of Hope, + Once turning, open'd far into the outward, + And never closed again. + + I well remember, + It was a glorious morning, such a one + As dawns but once a season. Mercury + On such a morning would have flung himself + From cloud to cloud, and swum with balanced wings + To some tall mountain. On that day the year + First felt his youth and strength, and from his spring + Moved smiling toward his summer. On that day, + Love working shook his wings (that charged the winds + With spiced May-sweets from bound to bound) and blew + Fresh fire into the sun, and from within + Burst thro' the heated buds, and sent his soul + Into the songs of birds, and touch'd far-off + His mountain-altars, his high hills, with flame + Milder and purer. Up the rocks we wound; + The great pine shook with lovely sounds of joy, + That came on the sea-wind. As mountain brooks + Our blood ran free: the sunshine seem'd to brood + More warmly on the heart than on the brow. + We often paused, and looking back, we saw + The clefts and openings in the hills all fill'd + With the blue valley and the glistening brooks, + And with the low dark groves--a land of Love; + Where Love was worshipp'd upon every height, + Where Love was worshipp'd under every tree-- + A land of promise, flowing with the milk + And honey of delicious memories + Down to the sea, as far as eye could ken, + From verge to verge it was a holy land, + Still growing holier as you near'd the bay, + For where the temple stood. When we had reach'd + The grassy platform on some hill, I stoop'd, + I gather'd the wild herbs, and for her brows + And mine wove chaplets of the self-same flower, + Which she took smiling, and with my work there + Crown'd her clear forehead. Once or twice she told me + (For I remember all things), to let grow + The flowers that run poison in their veins. + She said, 'The evil flourish in the world'; + Then playfully she gave herself the lie: + 'Nothing in nature is unbeautiful, + So, brother, pluck and spare not.' So I wove + Even the dull-blooded poppy, 'whose red flower + Hued with the scarlet of a fierce sunrise, + Like to the wild youth of an evil king, + Is without sweetness, but who crowns himself + Above the secret poisons of his heart + In his old age'--a graceful thought of hers + Graven on my fancy! As I said, with these + She crown'd her forehead. O how like a nymph, + A stately mountain-nymph, she look'd! how native + Unto the hills she trod on! What an angel! + How clothed with beams! My eyes, fix'd upon hers, + Almost forgot even to move again. + My spirit leap'd as with those thrills of bliss + That shoot across the soul in prayer, and show us + That we are surely heard. Methought a light + Burst from the garland I had woven, and stood + A solid glory on her bright black hair: + A light, methought, broke from her dark, dark eyes, + And shot itself into the singing winds; + A light, methought, flash'd even from her white robe, + As from a glass in the sun, and fell about + My footsteps on the mountains. + + About sunset + We came unto the hill of woe, so call'd + Because the legend ran that, long time since, + One rainy night, when every wind blew loud, + A woful man had thrust his wife and child + With shouts from off the bridge, and following, plunged + Into the dizzy chasm below. Below, + Sheer thro' the black-wall'd cliff the rapid brook + Shot down his inner thunders, built above + With matted bramble and the shining gloss + Of ivy-leaves, whose low-hung tresses, dipp'd + In the fierce stream, bore downward with the wave. + The path was steep and loosely strewn with crags + We mounted slowly: yet to both of us + It was delight, not hindrance: unto both + Delight from hardship to be overcome, + And scorn of perilous seeming: unto me + Intense delight and rapture that I breathed, + As with a sense of nigher Deity, + With her to whom all outward fairest things + Were by the busy mind referr'd, compared, + As bearing no essential fruits of excellence. + Save as they were the types and shadowings + Of hers--and then that I became to her + A tutelary angel as she rose, + And with a fearful self-impelling joy + Saw round her feet the country far away, + Beyond the nearest mountain's bosky brows, + Burst into open prospect--heath and hill, + And hollow lined and wooded to the lips-- + And steep down walls of battlemented rock + Girded with broom or shiver'd into peaks-- + And glory of broad waters interfused, + Whence rose as it were breath and steam of gold; + And over all the great wood rioting + And climbing, starr'd at slender intervals + With blossom tufts of purest white; and last, + Framing the mighty landskip to the West, + A purple range of purple cones, between + Whose interspaces gush'd, in blinding bursts, + The incorporate light of sun and sea. + + At length, + Upon the tremulous bridge, that from beneath + Seemed with a cobweb firmament to link + The earthquake-shattered chasm, hung with shrubs, + We passed with tears of rapture. All the West, + And even unto the middle South, was ribb'd + And barr'd with bloom on bloom. The sun beneath, + Held for a space 'twixt cloud and wave, shower'd down + Rays of a mighty circle, weaving over + That varied wilderness a tissue of light + Unparallel'd. On the other side the moon, + Half-melted into thin blue air, stood still + And pale and fibrous as a wither'd leaf, + Nor yet endured in presence of his eyes + To imbue his lustre; most unloverlike; + Since in his absence full of light and joy + And giving light to others. But this chiefest, + Next to her presence whom I loved so well, + Spoke loudly, even into my inmost heart, + As to my outward hearing: the loud stream, + Forth issuing from his portals in the crag + (A visible link unto the home of my heart), + Ran amber toward the West, and nigh the sea, + Parting my own loved mountains, was received + Shorn of its strength, into the sympathy + Of that small bay, which into open main + Glow'd intermingling close beneath the sun + Spirit of Love! That little hour was bound, + Shut in from Time, and dedicate to thee; + Thy fires from heav'n had touch'd it, and the earth + They fell on became hallow'd evermore. + + We turn'd: our eyes met: her's were bright, and mine + Were dim with floating tears, that shot the sunset, + In light rings round me; and my name was borne + Upon her breath. Henceforth my name has been + A hallow'd memory, like the names of old; + A center'd, glory-circled memory, + And a peculiar treasure, brooking not + Exchange or currency; and in that hour + A hope flow'd round me, like a golden mist + Charm'd amid eddies of melodious airs, + A moment, ere the onward whirlwind shatter it, + Waver'd and floated--which was less than Hope, + Because it lack'd the power of perfect Hope; + But which was more and higher than all Hope, + Because all other Hope hath lower aim; + Even that this name to which her seraph lips + Did lend such gentle utterance, this one name + In some obscure hereafter, might inwreathe + (How lovelier, nobler then!) her life, her love, + With my life, love, soul, spirit and heart and strength. + + 'Brother,' she said, 'let this be call'd henceforth + The Hill of Hope'; and I replied: 'O sister, + My will is one with thine; the Hill of Hope.' + Nevertheless, we did not change the name. + + Love lieth deep; Love dwells not in lip-depths: + Love wraps her wings on either side the heart, + Constraining it with kisses close and warm, + Absorbing all the incense of sweet thoughts + So that they pass not to the shrine of sound. + Else had the life of that delighted hour + Drunk in the largeness of the utterance + Of Love; but how should earthly measure mete + The heavenly unmeasured or unlimited Love, + Which scarce can tune his high majestic sense + Unto the thunder-song that wheels the spheres; + Scarce living in the Aeolian harmony, + And flowing odour of the spacious air; + Scarce housed in the circle of this earth: + Be cabin'd up in words and syllables, + Which waste with the breath that made 'em. + Sooner earth + Might go round heaven, and the straight girth of Time + Inswathe the fullness of Eternity, + Than language grasp the infinite of Love. + O day, which did enwomb that happy hour, + Thou art blest in the years, divinest day! + O Genius of that hour which dost uphold + Thy coronal of glory like a God, + Amid thy melancholy mates far-seen, + Who walk before thee, and whose eyes are dim + With gazing on the light and depth of thine + Thy name is ever worshipp'd among hours! + Had I died then, I had not seem'd to die + For bliss stood round me like the lights of heaven, + That cannot fade, they are so burning bright. + Had I died then, I had not known the death; + Planting my feet against this mound of time + I had thrown me on the vast, and from this impulse + Continuing and gathering ever, ever, + Agglomerated swiftness, I had lived + That intense moment thro' eternity. + Oh, had the Power from whose right hand the light + Of Life issueth, and from whose left hand floweth + The shadow of Death, perennial effluences, + Whereof to all that draw the wholesome air, + Somewhile the one must overflow the other; + Then had he stemm'd my day with night and driven + My current to the fountain whence it sprang-- + Even his own abiding excellence-- + On me, methinks, that shock of gloom had fall'n + Unfelt, and like the sun I gazed upon, + Which, lapt in seeming dissolution, + And dipping his head low beneath the verge, + Yet bearing round about him his own day, + In confidence of unabated strength, + Steppeth from heaven to heaven, from light to light, + And holding his undimmed forehead far + Into a clearer zenith, pure of cloud; + So bearing on thro' Being limitless + The triumph of this foretaste, I had merged + Glory in glory, without sense of change. + + We trod the shadow of the downward hill; + We pass'd from light to dark. On the other side + Is scooped a cavern and a mountain-hall, + Which none have fathom'd. If you go far in + (The country people rumour) you may hear + The moaning of the woman and the child, + Shut in the secret chambers of the rock. + I too have heard a sound--perchance of streams + Running far-off within its inmost halls, + The home of darkness, but the cavern mouth, + Half overtrailed with a wanton weed + Gives birth to a brawling stream, that stepping lightly + Adown a natural stair of tangled roots, + Is presently received in a sweet grove + Of eglantine, a place of burial + Far lovelier than its cradle; for unseen + But taken with the sweetness of the place, + It giveth out a constant melody + That drowns the nearer echoes. Lower down + Spreads out a little lake, that, flooding, makes + Cushions of yellow sand; and from the woods + That belt it rise three dark tall cypresses; + Three cypresses, symbols of mortal woe, + That men plant over graves. + + Hither we came, + And sitting down upon the golden moss + Held converse sweet and low--low converse sweet, + In which our voices bore least part. The wind + Told a love-tale beside us, how he woo'd + The waters, and the crisp'd waters lisp'd + The kisses of the wind, that, sick with love, + Fainted at intervals, and grew again + To utterance of passion. Ye cannot shape + Fancy so fair as is this memory. + Methought all excellence that ever was + Had drawn herself from many thousand years, + And all the separate Edens of this earth, + To centre in this place and time. I listen'd, + And her words stole with most prevailing sweetness + Into my heart, as thronged fancies come, + All unawares, into the poet's brain; + Or as the dew-drops on the petal hung, + When summer winds break their soft sleep with sighs, + Creep down into the bottom of the flower. + Her words were like a coronal of wild blooms + Strung in the very negligence of Art, + Or in the art of Nature, where each rose + Doth faint upon the bosom of the other, + Flooding its angry cheek with odorous tears. + So each with each inwoven lived with each, + And were in union more than double-sweet. + What marvel my Camilla told me all? + It was so happy an hour, so sweet a place, + And I was as the brother of her blood, + And by that name was wont to live in her speech, + Dear name! which had too much of nearness in it + And heralded the distance of this time. + At first her voice was very sweet and low, + As tho' she were afeard of utterance; + But in the onward current of her speech, + (As echoes of the hollow-banked brooks + Are fashioned by the channel which they keep) + His words did of their meaning borrow sound, + Her cheek did catch the colour of her words, + I heard and trembled, yet I could but hear; + My heart paused,--my raised eyelids would not fall, + But still I kept my eyes upon the sky. + I seem'd the only part of Time stood still, + And saw the motion of all other things; + While her words, syllable by syllable, + Like water, drop by drop, upon my ear + Fell, and I wish'd, yet wish'd her not to speak, + But she spoke on, for I did name no wish. + What marvel my Camilla told me all + Her maiden dignities of Hope and Love, + 'Perchance' she said 'return'd.' Even then the stars + Did tremble in their stations as I gazed; + But she spake on, for I did name no wish, + No wish--no hope. Hope was not wholly dead, + But breathing hard at the approach of Death, + Updrawn in expectation of her change-- + Camilla, my Camilla, who was mine + No longer in the dearest use of mine-- + The written secrets of her inmost soul + Lay like an open scroll before my view, + And my eyes read, they read aright, her heart + Was Lionel's: it seem'd as tho' a link + Of some light chain within my inmost frame + Was riven in twain: that life I heeded not + Flow'd from me, and the darkness of the grave, + The darkness of the grave and utter night, + Did swallow up my vision: at her feet, + Even the feet of her I loved, I fell, + Smit with exceeding sorrow unto death. + + Then had the earth beneath me yawning given + Sign of convulsion; and tho' horrid rifts + Sent up the moaning of unhappy spirits + Imprison'd in her centre, with the heat + Of their infolding element; had the angels, + The watchers at heaven's gate, push'd them apart, + And from the golden threshold had down-roll'd + Their heaviest thunder, I had lain as still, + And blind and motionless as then I lay! + White as quench'd ashes, cold as were the hopes + Of my lorn love! What happy air shall woo + The wither'd leaf fall'n in the woods, or blasted + Upon this bough? a lightning stroke had come + Even from that Heaven in whose light I bloom'd + And taken away the greenness of my life, + The blossom and the fragrance. Who was cursed + But I? who miserable but I? even Misery + Forgot herself in that extreme distress, + And with the overdoing of her part + Did fall away into oblivion. + The night in pity took away my day + Because my grief as yet was newly born, + Of too weak eyes to look upon the light, + And with the hasty notice of the ear, + Frail life was startled from the tender love + Of him she brooded over. Would I had lain + Until the pleached ivy tress had wound + Round my worn limbs, and the wild briar had driven + Its knotted thorns thro' my unpaining brows + Leaning its roses on my faded eyes. + The wind had blown above me, and the rain + Had fall'n upon me, and the gilded snake + Had nestled in this bosomthrone of love, + But I had been at rest for evermore. + Long time entrancement held me: all too soon, + Life (like a wanton too-officious friend + Who will not hear denial, vain and rude + With proffer of unwished for services) + Entering all the avenues of sense, + Pass'd thro' into his citadel, the brain + With hated warmth of apprehensiveness: + And first the chillness of the mountain stream + Smote on my brow, and then I seem'd to hear + Its murmur, as the drowning seaman hears, + Who with his head below the surface dropt, + Listens the dreadful murmur indistinct + Of the confused seas, and knoweth not + Beyond the sound he lists: and then came in + O'erhead the white light of the weary moon, + Diffused and molten into flaky cloud. + Was my sight drunk, that it did shape to me + Him who should own that name? or had my fancy + So lethargised discernment in the sense, + That she did act the step-dame to mine eyes, + Warping their nature, till they minister'd + Unto her swift conceits? 'Twere better thus + If so be that the memory of that sound + With mighty evocation, had updrawn + The fashion and the phantasm of the form + It should attach to. There was no such thing.-- + It was the man she loved, even Lionel, + The lover Lionel, the happy Lionel, + All joy; who drew the happy atmosphere + Of my unhappy sighs, fed with my tears, + To him the honey dews of orient hope. + Oh! rather had some loathly ghastful brow, + Half-bursten from the shroud, in cere cloth bound, + The dead skin withering on the fretted bone, + The very spirit of Paleness made still paler + By the shuddering moonlight, fix'd his eyes on mine + Horrible with the anger and the heat + Of the remorseful soul alive within, + And damn'd unto his loathed tenement. + Methinks I could have sooner met that gaze! + Oh, how her choice did leap forth from his eyes! + Oh, how her love did clothe itself in smiles + About his lips! This was the very arch-mock + And insolence of uncontrolled Fate, + When the effect weigh'd seas upon my head + To twit me with the cause. + Why how was this? + Could he not walk what paths he chose, nor breathe + What airs he pleased! Was not the wide world free, + With all her interchange of hill and plain + To him as well as me? I know not, faith: + But Misery, like a fretful, wayward child, + Refused to look his author in the face, + Must he come my way too? Was not the South, + The East, the West, all open, if he had fall'n + In love in twilight? Why should he come my way, + Robed in those robes of light I must not wear, + With that great crown of beams about his brows? + Come like an angel to a damned soul? + To tell him of the bliss he had with God; + Come like a careless and a greedy heir, + That scarce can wait the reading of the will + Before he takes possession? Was mine a mood + To be invaded rudely, and not rather + A sacred, secret, unapproached woe + Unspeakable? I was shut up with grief; + She took the body of my past delight, + Narded, and swathed and balm'd it for herself, + And laid it in a new-hewn sepulchre, + Where man had never lain. I was led mute + Into her temple like a sacrifice; + I was the high-priest in her holiest place, + Not to be loudly broken in upon. + Oh! friend, thoughts deep and heavy as these well-nigh + O'erbore the limits of my brain; but he + Bent o'er me, and my neck his arm upstay'd + From earth. I thought it was an adder's fold, + And once I strove to disengage myself, + But fail'd, I was so feeble. She was there too: + She bent above me too: her cheek was pale, + Oh! very fair and pale: rare pity had stolen + The living bloom away, as tho' a red rose + Should change into a white one suddenly. + Her eyes, I saw, were full of tears in the morn, + And some few drops of that distressful rain + Being wafted on the wind, drove in my sight, + And being there they did break forth afresh + In a new birth, immingled with my own, + And still bewept my grief. Keeping unchanged + The purport of their coinage. Her long ringlets, + Drooping and beaten with the plaining wind, + Did brush my forehead in their to-and-fro: + For in the sudden anguish of her heart + Loosed from their simple thrall they had flowed abroad, + And onward floating in a full, dark wave, + Parted on either side her argent neck, + Mantling her form half way. She, when I woke, + After my refluent health made tender quest + Unanswer'd, for I spoke not: for the sound + Of that dear voice so musically low, + And now first heard with any sense of pain, + As it had taken life away before, + Choked all the syllables that in my throat + Strove to uprise, laden with mournful thanks, + From my full heart: and ever since that hour, + My voice hath somewhat falter'd--and what wonder + That when hope died, part of her eloquence + Died with her? He, the blissful lover, too, + From his great hoard of happiness distill'd + Some drops of solace; like a vain rich man, + That, having always prosper'd in the world, + Folding his hands deals comfortable words + To hearts wounded for ever; yet, in truth, + Fair speech was his and delicate of phrase, + Falling in whispers on the sense, address'd + More to the inward than the outward ear, + As rain of the midsummer midnight soft + Scarce-heard, recalling fragrance and the green + Of the dead spring--such as in other minds + Had film'd the margents of the recent wound. + And why was I to darken their pure love, + If, as I knew, they two did love each other, + Because my own was darken'd? Why was I + To stand within the level of their hopes, + Because my hope was widow'd, like the cur + In the child's adage? Did I love Camilla? + Ye know that I did love her: to this present + My full-orb'd love hath waned not. Did I love her, + And could I look upon her tearful eyes? + Tears wept for me; for me--weep at my grief? + What had _she_ done to weep--let my heart + Break rather--whom the gentlest airs of heaven + Should kiss with an unwonted gentleness. + Her love did murder mine; what then? she deem'd + I wore a brother's mind: she call'd me brother: + She told me all her love: she shall not weep. + + The brightness of a burning thought awhile + Battailing with the glooms of my dark will, + Moonlike emerged, lit up unto itself, + Upon the depths of an unfathom'd woe, + Reflex of action, starting up at once, + As men do from a vague and horrid dream, + And throwing by all consciousness of self, + In eager haste I shook him by the hand; + Then flinging myself down upon my knees + Even where the grass was warm where I had lain, + I pray'd aloud to God that he would hold + The hand of blessing over Lionel, + And her whom he would make his wedded wife, + Camilla! May their days be golden days, + And their long life a dream of linked love, + From which may rude Death never startle them, + But grow upon them like a glorious vision + Of unconceived and awful happiness, + Solemn but splendid, full of shapes and sounds, + Swallowing its precedent in victory. + Let them so love that men and boys may say, + Lo! how they love each other! till their love + Shall ripen to a proverb unto all, + Known when their faces are forgot in the land. + And as for me, Camilla, as for me, + Think not thy tears will make my name grow green,-- + The dew of tears is an unwholesome dew. + The course of Hope is dried,--the life o' the plant-- + They will but sicken the sick plant more. + Deem then I love thee but as brothers do, + So shalt thou love me still as sisters do; + Or if thou dream'st aught farther, dream but how + I could have loved thee, had there been none else + To love as lovers, loved again by thee. + + Or this, or somewhat like to this, I spoke, + When I did see her weep so ruefully; + For sure my love should ne'er induce the front + And mask of Hate, whom woful ailments + Of unavailing tears and heart deep moans + Feed and envenom, as the milky blood + Of hateful herbs a subtle-fanged snake. + Shall Love pledge Hatred in her bitter draughts, + And batten on his poisons? Love forbid! + Love passeth not the threshold of cold Hate, + And Hate is strange beneath the roof of Love. + O Love, if thou be'st Love, dry up these tears + Shed for the love of Love; for tho' mine image, + The subject of thy power, be cold in her, + Yet, like cold snow, it melteth in the source + Of these sad tears, and feeds their downward flow. + So Love, arraign'd to judgment and to death, + Received unto himself a part of blame. + Being guiltless, as an innocent prisoner, + Who when the woful sentence hath been past, + And all the clearness of his fame hath gone + Beneath the shadow of the curse of men, + First falls asleep in swoon. Wherefrom awaked + And looking round upon his tearful friends, + Forthwith and in his agony conceives + A shameful sense as of a cleaving crime-- + For whence without some guilt should such grief be? + So died that hour, and fell into the abysm + Of forms outworn, but not to be outworn, + Who never hail'd another worth the Life + That made it sensible. So died that hour, + Like odour wrapt into the winged wind + Borne into alien lands and far away. + There be some hearts so airy-fashioned, + That in the death of love, if e'er they loved, + On that sharp ridge of utmost doom ride highly + Above the perilous seas of change and chance; + Nay, more, holds out the lights of cheerfulness; + As the tall ship, that many a dreary year + Knit to some dismal sandbank far at sea, + All through the lifelong hours of utter dark, + Showers slanting light upon the dolorous wave. + For me all other Hopes did sway from that + Which hung the frailest: falling, they fell too, + Crush'd link on link into the beaten earth, + And Love did walk with banish'd Hope no more, + It was ill-done to part ye, Sisters fair; + Love's arms were wreathed about the neck of Hope, + And Hope kiss'd Love, and Love drew in her breath + In that close kiss, and drank her whisper'd tales. + They said that Love would die when Hope was gone, + And Love mourned long, and sorrowed after Hope; + At last she sought out memory, and they trod + The same old paths where Love had walked with Hope, + And Memory fed the soul of Love with tears. + + II + + From that time forth I would not see her more, + But many weary moons I lived alone-- + Alone, and in the heart of the great forest. + Sometimes upon the hills beside the sea + All day I watched the floating isles of shade, + And sometimes on the shore, upon the sands + Insensibly I drew her name, until + The meaning of the letters shot into + My brain: anon the wanton billow wash'd + Them over, till they faded like my love. + The hollow caverns heard me--the black brooks + Of the mid-forest heard me--the soft winds, + Laden with thistledown and seeds of flowers, + Paused in their course to hear me, for my voice + Was all of thee: the merry linnet knew me, + The squirrel knew me, and the dragon-fly + Shot by me like a flash of purple fire. + The rough briar tore my bleeding palms; the hemlock, + Brow high, did strike my forehead as I pas'd; + Yet trod I not the wild-flower in my path, + Nor bruised the wild-bird's egg. + Was this the end? + Why grew we then together i' the same plot? + Why fed we the same fountain? drew the same sun? + Why were our mothers branches of one stem? + Why were we one in all things, save in that + Where to have been one had been the roof and crown + Of all I hoped and fear'd? if that same nearness + Were father to this distance, and that _one_ + Vauntcourier this _double_? If affection + Living slew Love, and Sympathy hew'd out + The bosom-sepulchre of Sympathy. + + Chiefly I sought the cavern and the hill + Where last we roam'd together, for the sound + Of the loud stream was pleasant, and the wind + Came wooingly with violet smells. Sometimes + All day I sat within the cavern-mouth, + Fixing my eyes on those three cypress-cones + Which spired above the wood; and with mad hand + Tearing the bright leaves of the ivy-screen, + I cast them in the noisy brook beneath, + And watch'd them till they vanished from my sight + Beneath the bower of wreathed eglantines: + And all the fragments of the living rock, + (Huge splinters, which the sap of earliest showers, + Or moisture of the vapour, left in clinging, + When the shrill storm-blast feeds it from behind, + And scatters it before, had shatter'd from + The mountain, till they fell, and with the shock + Half dug their own graves), in mine agony, + Did I make bear of all the deep rich moss + Wherewith the dashing runnel in the spring + Had liveried them all over. In my brain + The spirit seem'd to flag from thought to thought, + Like moonlight wandering through a mist: my blood + Crept like the drains of a marsh thro' all my body; + The motions of my heart seem'd far within me, + Unfrequent, low, as tho' it told its pulses; + And yet it shook me, that my frame did shudder, + As it were drawn asunder by the rack. + But over the deep graves of Hope and Fear, + The wreck of ruin'd life and shatter'd thought, + Brooded one master-passion evermore, + Like to a low hung and a fiery sky + Above some great metropolis, earth shock'd + Hung round with ragged-rimmed burning folds, + Embathing all with wild and woful hues-- + Great hills of ruins, and collapsed masses + Of thunder-shaken columns, indistinct + And fused together in the tyrannous light. + + So gazed I on the ruins of that thought + Which was the playmate of my youth--for which + I lived and breathed: the dew, the sun, the rain, + Unto the growth of body and of mind; + The blood, the breath, the feeling and the motion, + The slope into the current of my years, + Which drove them onward--made them sensible; + The precious jewel of my honour'd life, + Erewhile close couch'd in golden happiness, + Now proved counterfeit, was shaken out, + And, trampled on, left to its own decay. + + + + +The Lover's Tale + + Sometimes I thought Camilla was no more, + Some one had told me she was dead, and ask'd me + If I would see her burial: then I seem'd + To rise, and thro' the forest-shadow borne + With more than mortal swiftness, I ran down + The sleepy sea-bank, till I came upon + The rear of a procession, curving round + The silver-sheeted bay: in front of which + Six stately virgins, all in white, upbare + A broad earth-sweeping pall of whitest lawn, + Wreathed round the bier with garlands: in the distance, + From out the yellow woods, upon the hill, + Look'd forth the summit and the pinnacles + Of a grey steeple. All the pageantry, + Save those six virgins which upheld the bier, + Were stoled from head to foot in flowing black; + One walk'd abreast with me, and veiled his brow, + And he was loud in weeping and in praise + Of the departed: a strong sympathy + Shook all my soul: I flung myself upon him + In tears and cries: I told him all my love, + How I had loved her from the first; whereat + He shrunk and howl'd, and from his brow drew back + His hand to push me from him; and the face + The very face and form of Lionel, + Flash'd through my eyes into my innermost brain, + And at his feet I seemed to faint and fall, + To fall and die away. I could not rise, + Albeit I strove to follow. They pass'd on, + The lordly Phantasms; in their floating folds + They pass'd and were no more: but I had fall'n + Prone by the dashing runnel on the grass. + + Always th' inaudible, invisible thought + Artificer and subject, lord and slave + Shaped by the audible and visible, + Moulded the audible and visible; + All crisped sounds of wave, and leaf and wind, + Flatter'd the fancy of my fading brain; + The storm-pavilion'd element, the wood, + The mountain, the three cypresses, the cave, + Were wrought into the tissue of my dream. + The moanings in the forest, the loud stream, + Awoke me not, but were a part of sleep; + And voices in the distance, calling to me, + And in my vision bidding me dream on, + Like sounds within the twilight realms of dreams, + Which wander round the bases of the hills, + And murmur in the low-dropt eaves of sleep, + But faint within the portals. Oftentimes + The vision had fair prelude, in the end + Opening on darkness, stately vestibules + To cares and shows of Death; whether the mind, + With a revenge even to itself unknown, + Made strange division of its suffering + With her, whom to have suffering view'd had been + Extremest pain; or that the clear-eyed Spirit, + Being blasted in the Present, grew at length + Prophetical and prescient of whate'er + The Future had in store; or that which most + Enchains belief, the sorrow of my spirit + Was of so wide a compass it took in + All I had loved, and my dull agony. + Ideally to her transferred, became + Anguish intolerable. + The day waned; + Alone I sat with her: about my brow + Her warm breath floated in the utterance + Of silver-chorded tones: her lips were sunder'd + With smiles of tranquil bliss, which broke in light + Like morning from her eyes--her eloquent eyes + (As I have seen them many hundred times), + Fill'd all with clear pure fire, thro' mine down rain'd + Their spirit-searching splendours. As a vision + Unto a haggard prisoner, iron-stay'd + In damp and dismal dungeons underground + Confined on points of faith, when strength is shock'd + With torment, and expectancy of worse + Upon the morrow, thro' the ragged walls, + All unawares before his half-shut eyes, + Comes in upon him in the dead of night, + And with th' excess of sweetness and of awe, + Makes the heart tremble, and the eyes run over + Upon his steely gyves; so those fair eyes + Shone on my darkness forms which ever stood + Within the magic cirque of memory, + Invisible but deathless, waiting still + The edict of the will to reassume + The semblance of those rare realities + Of which they were the mirrors. Now the light, + Which was their life, burst through the cloud of thought + Keen, irrepressible. + It was a room + Within the summer-house of which I spoke, + Hung round with paintings of the sea, and one + A vessel in mid-ocean, her heaved prow + Clambering, the mast bent, and the revin wind + In her sail roaring. From the outer day, + Betwixt the closest ivies came a broad + And solid beam of isolated light, + Crowded with driving atomies, and fell + Slanting upon that picture, from prime youth + Well-known, well-loved. She drew it long ago + Forth gazing on the waste and open sea, + One morning when the upblown billow ran + Shoreward beneath red clouds, and I had pour'd + Into the shadowing pencil's naked forms + Colour and life: it was a bond and seal + Of friendship, spoken of with tearful smiles; + A monument of childhood and of love, + The poesy of childhood; my lost love + Symbol'd in storm. We gazed on it together + In mute and glad remembrance, and each heart + Grew closer to the other, and the eye + Was riveted and charm-bound, gazing like + The Indian on a still-eyed snake, low crouch'd + A beauty which is death, when all at once + That painted vessel, as with inner life, + 'Gan rock and heave upon that painted sea; + An earthquake, my loud heartbeats, made the ground + Roll under us, and all at once soul, life, + And breath, and motion, pass'd and flow'd away + To those unreal billows: round and round + A whirlwind caught and bore us; mighty gyves, + Rapid and vast, of hissing spray wind-driven + Far through the dizzy dark. Aloud she shriek'd-- + My heart was cloven with pain. I wound my arms + About her: we whirl'd giddily: the wind + Sung: but I clasp'd her without fear: her weight + Shrank in my grasp, and over my dim eyes + And parted lips which drank her breath, down hung + The jaws of Death: I, screaming, from me flung + The empty phantom: all the sway and whirl + Of the storm dropt to windless calm, and I + Down welter'd thro' the dark ever and ever. + + + + +Index to First Lines + + +A gate and a field half ploughed +All thoughts, all creeds, all dreams, are true +Angels have talked with him and showed him thrones +As when a man, that sails in a balloon +Blow ye the trumpets, gather from afar +But she tarries in her place +Check every outflash, every ruder sally +Could I outwear my present state of woe +Ere yet my heart was sweet Love's tomb +Every day hath its night +First drink a health, this solemn night +God bless our Prince and Bride +Heaven weeps above the earth all night +Here far away, seen from the topmost cliff +His eyes in eclipse +Home they brought him slain with spears +How much I love this writer's manly style +How often, when a child I lay reclined +I am any man's suitor +I stood on a tower in the wet +I stood upon the Mountain which o'erlooks +I' the glooming light +Me my own fate to lasting sorrow doometh +My Rosalind, my Rosalind +O darling room, my heart's delight +Oh, Beauty, passing beauty! sweetest sweet! +Oh, go not yet, my love +O maiden fresher than the first green leaf +O sad _No more_! O sweet _No more_ +O thou whose fringed lids I gaze upon +Rise, Britons, rise, if manhood be not dead +Sainted Juliet! dearest name +Shall the hag Evil die with the child of Good +Sure never yet was Antelope +The lintwhite and the throstlecock +The Northwind fall'n in the new starred night +The pallid thunderstricken sigh for gain +There are three things that fill my heart with sighs +Therefore your halls, your ancient colleges +There is no land like England +The varied earth, the moving heaven +Thou, from the first, unborn, undying love +Though Night hath climbed her peak +Two bees within a chrystal flowerbell rocked +Voice of the summerwind +We have had enough of motion +We know him, out of Shakespeare's art +What time I wasted youthful hours +Where is the Giant of the Sun, which stood +Who can say +Who fears to die? Who fears to die +With roses musky breathed +You cast to ground the hope which once was mine +You did late review my lays +Your ringlets, your ringlets + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Suppressed Poems of Alfred Lord +Tennyson, by Alfred Lord Tennyson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS TENNYSON *** + +***** This file should be named 14094.txt or 14094.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/4/0/9/14094/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Cori Samuel and the PG Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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