No More Learning

They read in arbours clipt and cut,
And alleys, faded places,
By squares of tropic summer shut
And warm'd in crystal cases.

But these, tho' fed with careful dirt,
Are neither green nor sappy;
Half-conscious of the garden-squirt,
The spindlings look unhappy, [3]
Better to me the meanest weed
That blows upon its mountain,
The vilest herb that runs to seed
Beside its native fountain.

And I must work thro' months of toil,
And years of cultivation,
Upon my proper patch of soil
To grow my own plantation.
I'll take the showers as they fall,
I will not vex my bosom:
Enough if at the end of all
A little garden blossom.


[Foonote 1: Amphion was no doubt capable of performing all the feats
here attributed to him, but there is no record of them; he appears to
have confined himself to charming the stones into their places when
Thebes was being built. Tennyson seems to have confounded him with
Orpheus. ]

[Footnote 2: Till 1857 these four lines ran thus:--

The birch-tree swang her fragrant hair,
The bramble cast her berry.
The gin within the juniper
Began to make him merry. ]


[Footnote 3: All editions up to and including 1850. The poor things look
unhappy. ]







ST. AGNES


This exquisite little poem was first published in 1837 in the
'Keepsake', an annual edited by Lady Emmeline Stuart Wortley, and was
included in the edition of 1842. No alteration has been made in it since
1842.

In 1857 the title was altered from "St. Agnes" to "St.
Agnes' Eve," thus
bringing it near to Keats' poem, which certainly influenced Tennyson in
writing it, as a comparison of the opening of the two poems will show.
The saint from whom the poem takes its name was a young girl of thirteen
who suffered martyrdom in the reign of Diocletian: she is a companion to
Sir Galahad.


Deep on the convent-roof the snows
Are sparkling to the moon:
My breath to heaven like vapour goes:
May my soul follow soon!
The shadows of the convent-towers
Slant down the snowy sward,
Still creeping with the creeping hours
That lead me to my Lord:
Make Thou [1] my spirit pure and clear
As are the frosty skies,
Or this first snowdrop of the year
That in [2] my bosom lies.

As these white robes are soiled and dark,
To yonder shining ground;
As this pale taper's earthly spark,
To yonder argent round;
So shows my soul before the Lamb,
My spirit before Thee;
So in mine earthly house I am,
To that I hope to be.
Break up the heavens, O Lord! and far,
Thro' all yon starlight keen,
Draw me, thy bride, a glittering star,
In raiment white and clean.

He lifts me to the golden doors;
The flashes come and go;
All heaven bursts her starry floors,
And strows [3] her lights below,
And deepens on and up! the gates
Roll back, and far within
For me the Heavenly Bridegroom waits, [4]
To make me pure of sin. [5]
The sabbaths of Eternity,
One sabbath deep and wide--
A light upon the shining sea--
The Bridegroom [6] with his bride!


[Footnote 1: In 'Keepsake': not capital in Thou. ]

[Footnote 2: In 'Keepsake': On. ]

[Footnote 3: In 'Keepsake': Strews. ]

[Footnote 4: In 'Keepsake': not capitals in Heavenly and Bridegroom. ]

[Footnote 5: In 'Keepsake': To wash me pure from sin. ]

[Footnote 6: In 'Keepsake': capital in Bridegroom.