Ah,
shameless!
Tennyson
]
[Footnote 3: All previous to 1853. Though. ]
[Footnote 4: The expression is Shakespeare's, 'Twelfth Night', v. , i. ,
"and thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges". ]
[Footnote 5: 1842 to 1843. With motion less or greater. ]
TO----
AFTER READING A LIFE AND LETTERS
Originally published in the 'Examiner' for 24th March, 1849; then in the
sixth edition of the poems, 1850, with the second part of the title and
the alterations noted. When reprinted in 1851 one more slight alteration
was made. It has not been altered since. The work referred to was
Moncton Milne's (afterwards Lord Houghton) 'Letters and Literary Remains
of Keats' published in 1848, and the person to whom the poem may have
been addressed was Tennyson's brother Charles, afterwards Charles
Tennyson Turner, to the facts of whose life and to whose character it
would exactly apply. See Napier,'Homes and Haunts of Tennyson', 48-50.
But Sir Franklin Lushington tells me that it was most probably addressed
to some imaginary person, as neither he nor such of Tennyson's surviving
friends as he kindly consulted for me are able to identify the person.
You might have won the Poet's name
If such be worth the winning now,
And gain'd a laurel for your brow
Of sounder leaf than I can claim;
But you have made the wiser choice,
A life that moves to gracious ends
Thro' troops of unrecording friends,
A deedful life, a silent voice:
And you have miss'd the irreverent doom
Of those that wear the Poet's crown:
Hereafter, neither knave nor clown
Shall hold their orgies at your tomb.
For now the Poet cannot die
Nor leave his music as of old,
But round him ere he scarce be cold
Begins the scandal and the cry:
"Proclaim the faults he would not show:
Break lock and seal: betray the trust:
Keep nothing sacred: 'tis but just
The many-headed beast should know".
Ah, shameless! for he did but sing.
A song that pleased us from its worth;
No public life was his on earth,
No blazon'd statesman he, nor king.
He gave the people of his best:
His worst he kept, his best he gave.
My Shakespeare's curse on [1] clown and knave
Who will not let his ashes rest!
Who make it seem more sweet [2] to be
The little life of bank and brier,
The bird that pipes his lone desire
And dies unheard within his tree,
Than he that warbles long and loud
And drops at Glory's temple-gates,
For whom the carrion vulture waits
To tear his heart before the crowd!
[Footnote 1: In Examiner and in 1850. My curse upon the. ]
[Footnote 2: In Examiner. Sweeter seem. For the sentiment 'cf'. Goethe:--
Ich singe, wie der Vogel singt
Der in den Zweigen wohnet;
Das Lied das aus dem Seele dringt
Ist Lohn, der reichlich lohnet.
--'Der Sanger'. ]
TO E. L. ,
ON HIS TRAVELS IN GREECE
This was first printed in 1853.
[Footnote 3: All previous to 1853. Though. ]
[Footnote 4: The expression is Shakespeare's, 'Twelfth Night', v. , i. ,
"and thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges". ]
[Footnote 5: 1842 to 1843. With motion less or greater. ]
TO----
AFTER READING A LIFE AND LETTERS
Originally published in the 'Examiner' for 24th March, 1849; then in the
sixth edition of the poems, 1850, with the second part of the title and
the alterations noted. When reprinted in 1851 one more slight alteration
was made. It has not been altered since. The work referred to was
Moncton Milne's (afterwards Lord Houghton) 'Letters and Literary Remains
of Keats' published in 1848, and the person to whom the poem may have
been addressed was Tennyson's brother Charles, afterwards Charles
Tennyson Turner, to the facts of whose life and to whose character it
would exactly apply. See Napier,'Homes and Haunts of Tennyson', 48-50.
But Sir Franklin Lushington tells me that it was most probably addressed
to some imaginary person, as neither he nor such of Tennyson's surviving
friends as he kindly consulted for me are able to identify the person.
You might have won the Poet's name
If such be worth the winning now,
And gain'd a laurel for your brow
Of sounder leaf than I can claim;
But you have made the wiser choice,
A life that moves to gracious ends
Thro' troops of unrecording friends,
A deedful life, a silent voice:
And you have miss'd the irreverent doom
Of those that wear the Poet's crown:
Hereafter, neither knave nor clown
Shall hold their orgies at your tomb.
For now the Poet cannot die
Nor leave his music as of old,
But round him ere he scarce be cold
Begins the scandal and the cry:
"Proclaim the faults he would not show:
Break lock and seal: betray the trust:
Keep nothing sacred: 'tis but just
The many-headed beast should know".
Ah, shameless! for he did but sing.
A song that pleased us from its worth;
No public life was his on earth,
No blazon'd statesman he, nor king.
He gave the people of his best:
His worst he kept, his best he gave.
My Shakespeare's curse on [1] clown and knave
Who will not let his ashes rest!
Who make it seem more sweet [2] to be
The little life of bank and brier,
The bird that pipes his lone desire
And dies unheard within his tree,
Than he that warbles long and loud
And drops at Glory's temple-gates,
For whom the carrion vulture waits
To tear his heart before the crowd!
[Footnote 1: In Examiner and in 1850. My curse upon the. ]
[Footnote 2: In Examiner. Sweeter seem. For the sentiment 'cf'. Goethe:--
Ich singe, wie der Vogel singt
Der in den Zweigen wohnet;
Das Lied das aus dem Seele dringt
Ist Lohn, der reichlich lohnet.
--'Der Sanger'. ]
TO E. L. ,
ON HIS TRAVELS IN GREECE
This was first printed in 1853.
