The Early Poems of Alfred Lord Tennyson Part 17

Her words did gather thunder as they ran, And as the lightning to the thunder Which follows it, riving the spirit of man, Making earth wonder,

So was their meaning to her words.

No sword Of wrath her right arm whirl'd, [6]

But one poor poet's scroll, and with 'his' word She shook the world.

[Footnote 1: The expression, as is not uncommon with Tennyson, is extremely ambiguous; it may mean that he hated hatred, scorned scorn, and loved love, or that he had hatred, scorn and love as it were in quintessence, like Dante, and that is no doubt the meaning.]

[Footnotes 2: 1830. Through.]

[Footnote 3: 1830 till 1851. Though.]

[Footnote 4: 2 1830. A.]

[Footnote 5: 1830.

And in the bordure of her robe was writ Wisdom, a name to shake h.o.a.r anarchies, as with a thunderfit.]

[Footnote 6: 1830. Hurled.]

THE POET'S MIND

First published in 1830.

A companion poem to the preceding. After line 7 in 1830 appears this stanza, afterwards omitted:--

Clear as summer mountain streams, Bright as the inwoven beams, Which beneath their crisping sapphire In the midday, floating o'er The golden sands, make evermore To a blossom-starred sh.o.r.e.

Hence away, unhallowed laughter!

1

Vex not thou the poet's mind With thy shallow wit: Vex not thou the poet's mind; For thou canst not fathom it.

Clear and bright it should be ever, Flowing like a crystal river; Bright as light, and clear as wind.

2

Dark-brow'd sophist, come not anear; All the place [1] is holy ground; Hollow smile and frozen sneer Come not here.

Holy water will I pour Into every spicy flower Of the laurel-shrubs that hedge it around.

The flowers would faint at your cruel cheer.

In your eye there is death, There is frost in your breath Which would blight the plants.

Where you stand you cannot hear From the groves within The wild-bird's din.

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, tho' [2] 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; It would shrink to the earth if you came in.

[Footnote 1: 1830. The poet's mind. With this may be compared the opening stanza of Gray's 'Installation Ode': "Hence! avaunt! 'tis holy ground," and for the sentiments 'cf'. Wordsworth's 'Poet's Epitaph.'

[Footnote 2: 1830 to 1851. Though.]

THE SEA-FAIRIES

First published in 1830 but excluded from all editions till its restoration, when it was greatly altered, in 1853. I here give the text as it appeared in 1830; where the present text is the same as that of 1830 asterisks indicate it.

This poem is a sort of prelude to the Lotus-Eaters, the burthen being the same, a siren song: "Why work, why toil, when all must be over so soon, and when at best there is so little to reward?"

Slow sailed the weary mariners, and saw Between the green brink and the running foam White limbs unrobed in a chrystal air, Sweet faces, etc.

middle sea.

SONG.

Whither away, whither away, whither away?

Fly no more!

Whither away wi' the singing sail? whither away wi' the oar?

Whither away from the high green field and the happy blossoming sh.o.r.e?

Weary mariners, hither away, One and all, one and all, Weary mariners, come and play; We will sing to you all the day; Furl the sail and the foam will fall From the prow! one and all Furl the sail! drop the oar!

Leap ash.o.r.e!

Know danger and trouble and toil no more.

Whither away wi' the sail and the oar?

Drop the oar, Leap ash.o.r.e, Fly no more!

Whither away wi' the sail? whither away wi' the oar?

Day and night to the billow, etc.

over the lea; They freshen the silvery-crimson sh.e.l.ls, And thick with white bells the cloverhill swells High over the full-toned sea.

Merrily carol the revelling gales Over the islands free: From the green seabanks the rose downtrails To the happy brimmed sea.

Come hither, come hither, and be our lords, For merry brides are we: We will kiss sweet kisses, etc.

With pleasure and love and revelry; ...

ridged sea.

Ye will not find so happy a sh.o.r.e Weary mariners! all the world o'er; Oh! fly no more!

Harken ye, harken ye, sorrow shall darken ye, Danger and trouble and toil no more; Whither away?

Drop the oar; Hither away, Leap ash.o.r.e; Oh! fly no more--no more.