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.
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.
Tennyson
Kate loves well the bold and fierce;
But none are bold enough for Kate,
She cannot find a fitting mate.
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.
POLAND
Reprinted without alteration in 1872, except the removal of italics in
"now" among the 'Early Sonnets'.
How long, O God, shall men be ridden down,
And trampled under by the last and least
Of men? The heart of Poland hath not ceased
To quiver, tho' her sacred blood doth drown
The fields; and out of every smouldering town
Cries to Thee, lest brute Power be increased,
Till that o'ergrown Barbarian in the East
Transgress his ample bound to some new crown:--
Cries to thee, "Lord, how long shall these things be?
How long this icyhearted Muscovite
Oppress the region? " Us, O Just and Good,
Forgive, who smiled when she was torn in three;
Us, who stand now, when we should aid the right--
A matter to be wept with tears of blood!
TO--
Reprinted without alteration as first of the 'Early Sonnets' in
1872; subsequently in the twelfth line "That tho'" was substituted for
"Altho'," and the last line was altered to--
"And either lived in either's heart and speech,"
and "hath" was not italicised.
As when with downcast eyes we muse and brood,
And ebb into a former life, or seem
To lapse far back in some confused dream
To states of mystical similitude;
If one but speaks or hems or stirs his chair,
Ever the wonder waxeth more and more,
So that we say, "All this hath been before,
All this _hath_ been, I know not when or where".
So, friend, when first I look'd upon your face,
Our thought gave answer each to each, so true--
Opposed mirrors each reflecting each--
Altho' I knew not in what time or place,
Methought that I had often met with you,
And each had lived in the other's mind and speech.
O DARLING ROOM
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.
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.
THE SKIPPING ROPE
This silly poem was first published in the edition of 1842, and was
retained unaltered till 1851, when it was finally 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.
TIMBUCTOO
A POEM WHICH OBTAINED THE CHANCELLOR'S MEDAL AT THE 'Cambridge
Commencement' M. DCCCXXIX BY A. TENNYSON Of Trinity College.
Printed in the Cambridge 'Chronicle and Journal' for Friday, 10th July,
1839, and at the University Press by James Smith, among the 'Profusiones
Academicae Praemiis annuis dignatae, et in Curia Cantabrigiensi
Recitatae Comitiis Maximis' A. D.
But none are bold enough for Kate,
She cannot find a fitting mate.
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.
POLAND
Reprinted without alteration in 1872, except the removal of italics in
"now" among the 'Early Sonnets'.
How long, O God, shall men be ridden down,
And trampled under by the last and least
Of men? The heart of Poland hath not ceased
To quiver, tho' her sacred blood doth drown
The fields; and out of every smouldering town
Cries to Thee, lest brute Power be increased,
Till that o'ergrown Barbarian in the East
Transgress his ample bound to some new crown:--
Cries to thee, "Lord, how long shall these things be?
How long this icyhearted Muscovite
Oppress the region? " Us, O Just and Good,
Forgive, who smiled when she was torn in three;
Us, who stand now, when we should aid the right--
A matter to be wept with tears of blood!
TO--
Reprinted without alteration as first of the 'Early Sonnets' in
1872; subsequently in the twelfth line "That tho'" was substituted for
"Altho'," and the last line was altered to--
"And either lived in either's heart and speech,"
and "hath" was not italicised.
As when with downcast eyes we muse and brood,
And ebb into a former life, or seem
To lapse far back in some confused dream
To states of mystical similitude;
If one but speaks or hems or stirs his chair,
Ever the wonder waxeth more and more,
So that we say, "All this hath been before,
All this _hath_ been, I know not when or where".
So, friend, when first I look'd upon your face,
Our thought gave answer each to each, so true--
Opposed mirrors each reflecting each--
Altho' I knew not in what time or place,
Methought that I had often met with you,
And each had lived in the other's mind and speech.
O DARLING ROOM
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.
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.
THE SKIPPING ROPE
This silly poem was first published in the edition of 1842, and was
retained unaltered till 1851, when it was finally 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.
TIMBUCTOO
A POEM WHICH OBTAINED THE CHANCELLOR'S MEDAL AT THE 'Cambridge
Commencement' M. DCCCXXIX BY A. TENNYSON Of Trinity College.
Printed in the Cambridge 'Chronicle and Journal' for Friday, 10th July,
1839, and at the University Press by James Smith, among the 'Profusiones
Academicae Praemiis annuis dignatae, et in Curia Cantabrigiensi
Recitatae Comitiis Maximis' A. D.
