The Complete Poetical Works of Alfred Tennyson

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 :

And in her raiment's hem was traced in It springs on a level of bowery lawn, And the mountain draws it from Heaven

flame

WISDOM, a name to shake

above,

All evil dreams of power—a sacred name. And it sings a song of undying love ;
And when she spake,
And yet, tho' its voice be so clear and full,
You never would hear it; your ears are
so dull;

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, But one poor poet's scroll, and with his word

She shook the world.

THE POET'S MIND.

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.

II.

Dark-brow'd sophist, come not anear;
All the place 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.

So keep where you are: you are foul with sin;

It would shrink to the earth if you came in.

THE SEA-FAIRIES.

SLOW sail'd the weary mariners and saw, Betwixt the green brink and the running foam,

Sweet faces, rounded arms, and bosoms prest

To little harps of gold; and while they mused,

Whispering to each other half in fear, Shrill music reach'd them on the middle

sea.

Whither away, whither away, whither away? fly no more.

Whither away from the high green field, and the happy blossoming shore? Day and night to the billow the fountain calls;

Down shower the gambolling waterfalls From wandering over the lea:

Out of the live-green heart of the dells They freshen the silvery-crimson shells, And thick with white bells the clover-hill

swells

High over the full-toned sea :
O hither, come hither and furl your sails
Come hither to me and to me:

When the sharp clear twang of the golden chords

Runs up the ridged sea.

Hither, come hither and frolic and play; | O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten
Here it is only the mew that wails;
We will sing to you all the day:
Mariner, mariner, furl your sails,
For here are the blissful downs and dales,
And merrily, merrily carol the gales,
And the spangle dances in bight and
bay,

And the rainbow forms and flies on the land

Over the islands free;

And the rainbow lives in the curve of the sand;

Hither, come hither and see;

Who can light on as happy a shore
All the world o'er, all the world o'er ?
Whither away? listen and stay: mariner,
mariner, fly no more.

THE DESERTED HOUSE.

And the rainbow hangs on the poising LIFE and Thought have gone away

wave,

And sweet is the color of cove and
cave,
And sweet shall your welcome be :
O hither, come hither, and be our lords,
For merry brides are we :
We will kiss sweet kisses, and speak
sweet words:

O listen, listen, your eyes shall glisten
With pleasure and love and jubilee :

Side by side,

Leaving door and windows wide: Careless tenants they!

II.

All within is dark as night:
In the windows is no light;
And no murmur at the door,
So frequent on its hinge before.

Rain makes music in the tree
O'er the green that folds thy grave.
Let them rave.

Round thee blow, self-pleached deep,
Bramble roses, faint and pale,
And long purples of the dale.
Let them rave.

These in every shower creep
Thro' the green that folds thy grave.
Let them rave.

VI.

The gold-eyed kingcups fine;
The frail bluebell peereth over
Rare broidry of the purple clover.
Let them rave.

Kings have no such couch as thine,
As the green that folds thy grave.
Let them rave.

VII.

Wild words wander here and there:
God's great gift of speech abused
Makes thy memory confused:
But let them rave.

The balm-cricket carols clear
In the green that folds thy grave.
Let them rave.

LOVE AND DEATH.

WHAT time the mighty moon was gathering light

Love paced the thymy plots of Paradise, And all about him roll'd his lustrous eyes; When, turning round a cassia, full in view

Death, walking all alone beneath a yew, And talking to himself, first met his sight:

"You must begone," said Death, "these walks are mine."

Love wept and spread his sheeny vans for flight;

Yet ere he parted said, "This hour is thine:

Thou art the shadow of life, and as the

tree

Stands in the sun and shadows all beneath,
So in the light of great eternity
Life eminent creates the shade of death;
The shadow passeth when the tree shall
fall,

But I shall reign for ever over all."