The Early Poems of Alfred Lord Tennyson by Collins, John Churton, 1848-1908, Tennyson, Alfred Lord, 1809-1892

42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 A word from our supporters: File extension MSO Introduction I Introduction Ii Iv 1 2 3 Mariana To- 1 2 Ode To Memory 1 2 3 4 5 The Poet The Poet's Mind 1 2 The Sea-fairies Song. The Ballad Of Oriana Circumstance Sonnet To J. M. K. The Lady Of Shalott Part I Part Ii Part Iii Part Iv Mariana In The South The Miller's Daughter * * * * * * Fatima 'none [1833.] The Sisters To- With The Following Poem The Palace Of Art * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Lady Clara Vere De Vere The May Queen New-year's Eve Conclusion The Lotos-eaters 7 8 A Dream Of Fair Women The Blackbird. The Death Of The Old Year To J. S. "you Ask Me Why, Tho' Ill At Ease..." "of Old Sat Freedom On The Heights..." "love Thou Thy Land, With Love Far-brought..." The Goose The Epic Morte D'arthur The Gardener's Daughter; Or, The Pictures Dora Audley Court Walking To The Mail The Early Poems Of Edwin Morris; Or, The Lake St. Simeon Stylites The Talking Oak Love And Duty The Golden Year Ulysses Locksley Hall Godiva The Two Voices The Day-dream Amphion St. Agnes Sir Galahad Edward Gray Will Waterproof's Lyrical Monologue Made At The Cock To- After Reading A Life And Letters To E. L., On His Travels In Greece Lady Clare The Lord Of Burleigh Sir Launcelot And Queen Guinevere A Fragment A Farewell The Beggar Maid The Vision Of Sin 1 2 3 4 5 The Burial Of Love To- Song I Hero To Leander The Mystic The Grasshopper I Iii The Kraken English War Song National Song Ii Iii Iv Rosalind Ii Iii Song Kate Sonnet Bibliography Of The Poems Of 1842.

[1833.] There is a dale in Ida, lovelier Than any in old Ionia, beautiful With emerald slopes of sunny sward, that lean Above the loud glenriver, which hath worn A path thro' steepdown granite walls below Mantled with flowering tendriltwine. In front The cedarshadowy valleys open wide. Far-seen, high over all the God-built wall And many a snowycolumned range divine, Mounted with awful sculptures--men and Gods, The work of Gods--bright on the dark-blue sky The windy citadel of Ilion Shone, like the crown of Troas. Hither came Mournful 'none wandering forlorn Of Paris, once her playmate. Round her neck, Her neck all marblewhite and marblecold, Floated her hair or seemed to float in rest. She, leaning on a vine-entwined stone, Sang to the stillness, till the mountain-shadow Sloped downward to her seat from the upper cliff."O mother Ida, manyfountained Ida, Dear mother Ida, hearken ere I die. The grasshopper is silent in the grass, The lizard with his shadow on the stone Sleeps like a shadow, and the scarletwinged [21] Cicala in the noonday leapeth not Along the water-rounded granite-rock. The purple flower droops: the golden bee Is lilycradled: I alone awake. My eyes are full of tears, my heart of love, My heart is breaking and my eyes are dim, And I am all aweary of my life."O mother Ida, manyfountained Ida, Dear mother Ida, hearken ere I die. Hear me O Earth, hear me O Hills, O Caves That house the cold crowned snake! O mountain brooks, I am the daughter of a River-God, Hear me, for I will speak, and build up all My sorrow with my song, as yonder walls Rose slowly to a music slowly breathed, A cloud that gathered shape: for it may be That, while I speak of it, a little while My heart may wander from its deeper woe."O mother Ida, manyfountained Ida, Dear mother Ida, hearken ere I die. Aloft the mountain lawn was dewydark, And dewydark aloft the mountain pine; Beautiful Paris, evil-hearted Paris, Leading a jetblack goat whitehorned, whitehooved, Came up from reedy Simois all alone."O mother Ida, hearken ere I die. I sate alone: the goldensandalled morn Rosehued the scornful hills: I sate alone With downdropt eyes: white-breasted like a star Fronting the dawn he came: a leopard skin From his white shoulder drooped: his sunny hair Clustered about his temples like a God's: And his cheek brightened, as the foambow brightens When the wind blows the foam; and I called out, 'Welcome Apollo, welcome home Apollo, Apollo, my Apollo, loved Apollo'."Dear mother Ida, hearken ere I die. He, mildly smiling, in his milk-white palm Close-held a golden apple, lightningbright With changeful flashes, dropt with dew of Heaven Ambrosially smelling. From his lip, Curved crimson, the full-flowing river of speech Came down upon my heart."' My own 'none, Beautifulbrowed 'none, mine own soul, Behold this fruit, whose gleaming rind ingrav'n "For the most fair," in aftertime may breed Deep evilwilledness of heaven and sore Heartburning toward hallowed Ilion; And all the colour of my afterlife Will be the shadow of to-day. To-day Hera and Pallas and the floating grace Of laughter-loving Aphrodite meet In manyfolded Ida to receive This meed of beauty, she to whom my hand Award the palm. Within the green hillside, Under yon whispering tuft of oldest pine, Is an ingoing grotto, strown with spar And ivymatted at the mouth, wherein Thou unbeholden may'st behold, unheard Hear all, and see thy Paris judge of Gods.'