Alfred Tennyson

“ I am that Rosamond, whom men call fair,
If what I was I be.
lxiv.
"Would I had been some maiden coarse and poor!
O me! that I should ever see the light!
Those dragon eyes of anger'd Eleanor
Do hunt me, day and night."
lxv.
She ceased in tears, fallen from hope and trust:
To whom the Egyptian: "O, you tamely died!
You should have clung to Fulvia's waist, and thrust
The dagger thro' her side."
lxvi.
With that sharp sound the white dawn's creeping beams,
Stol'n to my brain, dissolved the mystery
Of folded sleep. The captain of my dreams
Ruled in the eastern sky. ”

“ Not in vain the distance beacons. Forward, forward let us range.
Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.
Thro' the shadow of the globe we sweep into the younger day:
Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.
Mother-Age (for mine I knew not) help me as when life begun:
Rift the hills, and roll the waters, flash the lightnings, weigh the Sun—
O, I see the crescent promise of my spirit hath not set.
Ancient founts of inspiration well thro' all my fancy yet.
Howsoever these things be, a long farewell to Locksley Hall! ”

“ But am I not the nobler thro' thy love?
O three times less unworthy! likewise thou
Art more thro' Love, and greater than thy years.
The Sun will run his orbit, and the Moon
Her circle. Wait, and Love himself will bring
The drooping flower of knowledge changed to fruit
Of wisdom. Wait: my faith is large in Time,
And that which shapes it to some perfect end.
⁠Will some one say, then why not ill for good?
Why took ye not your pastime? To that man
My work shall answer, since I knew the right
And did it; for a man is not as God,
But then most Godlike being most a man. ”

“ In the heart of the garden the merry bird chants.
It would fall to the ground if you came in.
⁠In the middle leaps a fountain
⁠Like sheet lightning,
⁠Ever brightening
⁠With a low melodious thunder;
All day and all night it is ever drawn
⁠From the brain of the purple mountain
⁠Which stands in the distance yonder:
It springs on a level of bowery lawn,
And the mountain draws it from Heaven above,
And it sings a song of undying love;
And yet, though its voice be so clear and full,
You never would hear it—your ears are so dull;
So keep where you are: you are foul with sin ”

“ Will make him hard, and he will learn to slight
His father's memory; and take Dora back,
And let all this be as it was before."
So Mary said, and Dora hid her face
By Mary. There was silence in the room;
And all at once the old man burst in sobs:—
"I have been to blame—to blame. I have kill'd my son.
I have kill'd him—but I loved him—my dear son.
May God forgive me!—I have been to blame.
Kiss me, my children."
Then they clung about
The old man's neck, and kiss'd him many times. ”

“ Better thou wert dead before me, tho' I slew thee with my hand!
Better thou and I were lying, hidden from the heart's disgrace,
Roll'd in one another's arms, and silent in a last embrace.
Cursed be the social wants that sin against the strength of youth!
Cursed be the social lies that warp us from the living truth!
Cursed be the sickly forms that err from honest Nature's rule!
Cursed be the gold that gilds the straiten'd forehead of the fool! ”

“ 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. ”

“ And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.
ix.
The night-winds come and go, mother, upon the meadow-grass.
And the happy stars above them seem to brighten as they pass;
There will not be a drop of rain the whole of the livelong day,
And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. ”

“ Stretch'd wide and wild the waste enormous marsh.
Where from the frequent bridge,
Like emblems of infinity,
The trenched waters run from sky to sky;
Or a garden bower'd close
With plaited alleys of the trailing rose,
Long alleys falling down to twilight grots,
Or opening upon level plots
Of crowned lilies, standing near
Purple-spiked lavender:
Whither in after life retired
From brawling storms,
From weary wind,
With youthful fancy reinspired.
We may hold converse with all forms
Of the many-sided mind,
And those whom passion hath not blinded,
Subtle-thoughted, myriad-minded. ”

“ All day the wind breathes low with mellower tone:
Thro' every hollow cave and alley lone
Round and round the spicy downs the yellow Lotos-dust is blown.
We have had enough of action, and of motion we,
Roll'd to starboard, roll'd to larboard, when the surge was seething free,
Where the wallowing monster spouted his foam-fountains in the sea.
Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind,
In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined
On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind. ”

“ Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice
Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
For what are men better than sheep or goats
That nourish a blind life within the brain,
If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer
Both for themselves and those who call them friend?
For so the whole round earth is every way
Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
But now farewell. I am going a long way
With these thou seëst—if indeed I go—
(For all my mind is clouded with a doubt)
To the island-valley of Avilion ”

“ In coughs, aches, stitches, ulcerous throes and cramps,
A sign betwixt the meadow and the cloud,
Patient on this tall pillar I have borne
Rain, wind, frost, heat, hail, damp, and sleet, and snow;
And I had hoped that ere this period closed
Thou wouldst have caught me up into thy rest,
Denying not these weather-beaten limbs
The meed of saints, the white robe and the palm.
⁠O take the meaning, Lord: I do not breathe,
Not whisper, any murmur of complaint. ”

“ A Spirit haunts the year's last hours
Dwelling amid these yellowing bowers:
⁠To himself he talks;
For at eventide, listening earnestly,
At his work you may hear him sob and sigh
⁠In the walks;
⁠Earthward he boweth the heavy stalks
Of the mouldering flowers:
⁠Heavily hangs the broad sunflower
⁠Over its grave i' the earth so chilly;
⁠Heavily hangs the hollyhock,
⁠Heavily hangs the tiger-lily. ”

“ They would pelt me with starry spangles and shells,
Laughing and clapping their hands between,
⁠All night, merrily, merrily:
But I would throw to them back in mine
Turkis and agate and almondine:
Then leaping out upon them unseen
I would kiss them often under the sea,
And kiss them again till they kiss'd me
⁠Laughingly, laughingly.
Oh! what a happy life were mine
Under the hollow-hung ocean green!
Soft are the moss-beds under the sea;
We would live merrily, merrily. ”

“ Thrill'd thro' mine ears in that unblissful clime:
"Pass freely thro'! the wood is all thine own,
Until the end of time."
xxii.
At length I saw a lady within call,
Stiller than chisell'd marble, standing there;
A daughter of the gods, divinely tall,
And most divinely fair.
xxiii.
Her loveliness with shame and with surprise
Froze my swift speech; she turning on my face
The star-like sorrows of immortal eyes,
Spoke slowly in her place.
xxiv.
"I had great beauty: ask thou not my name:
No one can be more wise than destiny.
Many drew swords and died. ”

“ She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
⁠The Lady of Shalott.
And moving thro' a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear. ”

“ Sloping thro' five great zones of climate, holds
His head in snows and calms—
XLIX.
Full of her own delight and nothing else,
My vainglorious, gorgeous soul
Sat throned between the shining oriels,
In pomp beyond control;
L.
With piles of flavorous fruits in basket-twine
Of gold, upheapèd, crushing down
Muskscented blooms—all taste—grape, gourd or pine—
In bunch, or singlegrown—
LI.
Our growths, and such as brooding Indian heats
Make out of crimson blossoms deep,
Ambrosial pulps and juices, sweets from sweets
Sunchanged, when seawinds sleep. ”

“ And thro' the moss the ivies creep,
And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep,
And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep.
2.
Why are we weigh'd upon with heaviness,
And utterly consumed with sharp distress,
While all things else have rest from weariness?
All things have rest: why should we toil alone,
We only toil, who are the first of things,
And make perpetual moan,
Still from one sorrow to another thrown ”

“ To throng with stately blooms the breathing spring
⁠Of Hope and Youth.
So many minds did gird their orbs with beams,
⁠Though one did fling the fire.
Heaven flow'd upon the soul in many dreams
⁠Of high desire.
Thus truth was multiplied on truth, the world
⁠Like one great garden show'd,
And thro' the wreaths of floating dark upcurl'd. ”

“ Empire for life? but Eustace painted her,
And said to me, she sitting with us then,
"When will you paint like this?" and I replied,
(My words were half in earnest, half in jest,)
"'Tis not your work, but Love's. Love, unperceived,
A more ideal Artist he than all,
Came, drew your pencil from you, made those eyes
Darker than darkest pansies, and that hair
More black than ashbuds in the front of March." ”

“ But, Effie, you must comfort her when I am past away.
xii.
And say to Robin a kind word, and tell him not to fret;
There's many worthier than I, would make him happy yet.
If I had lived—I cannot tell—I might have-been his wife;
But all these things have ceased to be, with my desire of life.
xiii.
O look! the sun begins to rise, the heavens are in a glow;
He shines upon a hundred fields, and all of them I know. ”

“ Flashed thro' her as she sat alone,
Yet not the less held she her solemn mirth,
And intellectual throne
LVI.
Of fullsphered contemplation. So three years
She throve, but on the fourth she fell,
Like Herod, when the shout was in his ears,
Struck thro' with pangs of hell.
LVII.
Lest she should fail and perish utterly,
God, before whom ever lie bare
The abysmal deeps of Personality,
Plagued her with sore despair.
LVIII.
When she would think, wheree'er she turned her sight
The airy hand confusion wrought,
Wrote "Mene, mene," and divided quite
The kingdom of her thought. ”

“ Whereof the strong foundation-stones were laid
⁠Since my first memory?"
But in dark corners of her palace stood
⁠Uncertain shapes, and unawares
On white-eyed phantasms weeping tears of blood,
⁠And horrible nightmares,
And hollow shades enclosing hearts of flame,
⁠And, with dim fretted foreheads all,
On corpses three-months-old at noon she came,
⁠That stood against the wall.
A spot of dull stagnation, without light
⁠Or power of movement, seem'd my soul,
Mid onward-sloping motions infinite
⁠Making for one sure goal. ”

“ O sweet and strange it seems to me, that ere this day is done
The voice, that now is speaking, may be beyond the sun—
For ever and for ever with those just souls and true—
And what is life, that we should moan? why make we such ado? ”

“ In this great house so royal-rich, and wide,
⁠Be flatter'd to the height.
"From shape to shape at first within the womb
⁠The brain is modell'd," she began,
"And thro' all phases of all thought I come
⁠Into the perfect man.
"All Nature widens upward. Evermore
⁠The simpler essence lower lies:
More complex is more perfect, owning more
⁠Discourse, more widely wise."
Then of the moral instinct would she prate,
⁠And of the rising from the dead,
As hers by right of full-accomplish'd Fate;
⁠And at the last she said:
"I take possession of man's mind and deed. ”

“ And half in love, half spite, he woo'd and wed
A labourer's daughter, Mary Morrison.
Then, when the bells were ringing, Allan call'd
His niece and said: "My girl, I love you well;
But if you speak with him that was my son,
Or change a word with her he calls his wife,
My home is none of yours. My will is law."
And Dora promised, being meek. She thought,
"It cannot be: my uncle's mind will change!" ”

“ For the old year lies a-dying.
⁠Old year, you must not die;
⁠You came to us so readily,
⁠You lived with us so steadily,
⁠Old year, you shall not die.
ii.
He lieth still: he doth not move:
He will not see the dawn of day.
He hath no other life above.
He gave me a friend, and a true true-love,
And the New-year will take 'em away. ”

“ There's somewhat in this world amiss,
Shall be unriddled by and by.
There's somewhat flows to us in life,
But more is taken quite away.
Pray, Alice, pray, my own sweet wife,
That we may die the selfsame day. ”