'O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida,Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.For now the noonday quiet holds the hill:The grasshopper is silent in the grass:The lizard, with his shadow on the stone,Rests like a shadow, and the winds are dead.The purple flower droops: the golden beeIs lily-cradled: 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, many-fountain'd Ida,Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.Hear me, O Earth, hear me, O Hills, O CavesThat house the cold crown'd snake! O mountain brooks,I am the daughter of a River-God,Hear me, for I will speak, and build up allMy sorrow with my song, as yonder wallsRose slowly to a music slowly breathed,A cloud that gather'd shape: for it may beThat, while I speak of it, a little whileMy heart may wander from its deeper woe.
'O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida,Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.I waited underneath the dawning hills,Aloft the mountain lawn was dewy-dark,And dewy-dark aloft the mountain pine:Beautiful Paris, evil-hearted Paris,Leading a jet-black goat white-horn'd, white-hooved,Came up from reedy Simois all alone.
'O mother Ida, harken ere I die.Far-off the torrent call'd me from the cleft:Far up the solitary morning smoteThe streaks of virgin snow. With down-dropt eyesI sat alone: white-breasted like a starFronting the dawn he moved; a leopard skinDroop'd from his shoulder, but his sunny hairCluster'd about his temples like a God's:And his cheek brighten'd as the foam-bow brightensWhen the wind blows the foam, and all my heartWent forth to embrace him coming ere he came.
'Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.He smiled, and opening out his milk-white palmDisclosed a fruit of pure Hesperian gold,That smelt ambrosially, and while I look'dAnd listen'd, the full-flowing river of speechCame down upon my heart. `My own Œnone,Beautiful-brow'd Œnone, my own soul,Behold this fruit, whose gleaming rind ingrav'n'For the most fair,' would seem to award it thine,As lovelier than whatever Oread hauntThe knolls of Ida, loveliest in all graceOf movement, and the charm of married brows.'
'Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.He prest the blossom of his lips to mine,And added 'This was cast upon the board,When all the full-faced presence of the GodsRanged in the halls of Peleus; whereuponRose feud, with question unto whom 'twere due:But light-foot Iris brought it yester-eve,Delivering that to me, by common voiceElected umpire, Herè comes to-day,Pallas and Aphroditè, claiming eachThis meed of fairest. Thou, within the caveBehind yon whispering tuft of oldest pine,Mayst well behold them unbeheld, unheardHear all, and see thy Paris judge of Gods.'
'Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.It was the deep midnoon: one silvery cloudHad lost his way between the piney sidesOf this long glen. Then to the bower they came,Naked they came to that smooth-swarded bower,And at their feet the crocus brake like fire,Violet, amaracus, and asphodel,Lotos and lilies: and a wind arose,And overhead the wandering ivy and vine,This way and that, in many a wild festoonRan riot, garlanding the gnarled boughsWith bunch and berry and flower thro' and thro'.
'O mother Ida, harken ere I die.On the tree-tops a crested peacock lit,And o'er him flow'd a golden cloud, and lean'dUpon him, slowly dropping fragrant dew.Then first I heard the voice of her, to whomComing thro' Heaven, like a light that growsLarger and clearer, with one mind the GodsRise up for reverence. She to Paris madeProffer of royal power, ample ruleUnquestion'd, overflowing revenueWherewith to embellish state, 'from many a valeAnd river-sunder'd champaign clothed with corn,Or labour'd mine undrainable of ore.Honour,' she said, 'and homage, tax and toll,From many an inland town and haven large,Mast-throng'd beneath her shadowing citadelIn glassy bays among her tallest towers.'
'O mother Ida, harken ere I die.Still she spake on and still she spake of power,'Which in all action is the end of all;Power fitted to the season; wisdom-bredAnd throned of wisdom-from all neighbour crownsAlliance and allegiance, till thy handFail from the sceptre-staff. Such boon from me,From me, Heaven's Queen, Paris, to thee king-born,A shepherd all thy life but yet king-born,Should come most welcome, seeing men, in powerOnly, are likest Gods, who have attain'dRest in a happy place and quiet seatsAbove the thunder, with undying blissIn knowledge of their own supremacy.'
'Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.She ceased, and Paris held the costly fruitOut at arm's-length, so much the thought of powerFlatter'd his spirit; but Pallas where she stoodSomewhat apart, her clear and bared limbsO'erthwarted with the brazen-headed spearUpon her pearly shoulder leaning cold,The while, above, her full and earnest eyeOver her snow-cold breast and angry cheekKept watch, waiting decision, made reply.
'`Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control,These three alone lead life to sovereign power.Yet not for power (power of herselfWould come uncall'd for) but to live by law,Acting the law we live by without fear;And, because right is right, to follow rightWere wisdom in the scorn of consequence.'
'Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.Again she said: 'I woo thee not with gifts.Sequel of guerdon could not alter meTo fairer. Judge thou me by what I am,So shalt thou find me fairest. Yet, indeed,If gazing on divinity disrobedThy mortal eyes are frail to judge of fair,Unbias'd by self-profit, oh! rest thee sureThat I shall love thee well and cleave to thee,So that my vigour, wedded to thy blood,Shall strike within thy pulses, like a God's,To push thee forward thro' a life of shocks,Dangers, and deeds, until endurance growSinew'd with action, and the full-grown will,Circled thro' all experiences, pure law,Commeasure perfect freedom.' Here she ceas'dAnd Paris ponder'd, and I cried, 'O Paris,Give it to Pallas!' but he heard me not,Or hearing would not hear me, woe is me!
'O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida,Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.Italian Aphroditè beautiful,Fresh as the foam, new-bathed in Paphian wells,With rosy slender fingers backward drewFrom her warm brows and bosom her deep hairAmbrosial, golden round her lucid throatAnd shoulder: from the violets her light footShone rosy-white, and o'er her rounded formBetween the shadows of the vine-bunchesFloated the glowing sunlights, as she moved.
'Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.She with a subtle smile in her mild eyes,The herald of her triumph, drawing nighHalf-whisper'd in his ear, 'I promise theeThe fairest and most loving wife in Greece.'She spoke and laugh'd: I shut my sight for fear:But when I look'd, Paris had raised his arm,And I beheld great Herè's angry eyes,As she withdrew into the golden cloud,And I was left alone within the bower;And from that time to this I am alone,And I shall be alone until I die.
'Yet, mother Ida, harken ere I die.Fairest-why fairest wife? am I not fair?My love hath told me so a thousand times.Methinks I must be fair, for yesterday,When I past by, a wild and wanton pard,Eyed like the evening star, with playful tailCrouch'd fawning in the weed. Most loving is she?Ah me, my mountain shepherd, that my armsWere wound about thee, and my hot lips prestClose, close to thine in that quick-falling dewOf fruitful kisses, thick as Autumn rainsFlash in the pools of whirling Simois!
'O mother, hear me yet before I die.They came, they cut away my tallest pines,My tall dark pines, that plumed the craggy ledgeHigh over the blue gorge, and all betweenThe snowy peak and snow-white cataractFoster'd the callow eaglet-from beneathWhose thick mysterious boughs in the dark mornThe panther's roar came muffled, while I sat Low in the valley. Never, never moreShall lone Œnone see the morning mistSweep thro' them; never see them overlaidWith narrow moon-lit slips of silver cloud,Between the loud stream and the trembling stars.
'O mother, hear me yet before I die.I wish that somewhere in the ruin'd folds,Among the fragments tumbled from the glens,Or the dry thickets, I could meet with herThe Abominable, that uninvited cameInto the fair Pele{:i}an banquet-hall,And cast the golden fruit upon the board,And bred this change; that I might speak my mind,And tell her to her face how much I hateHer presence, hated both of Gods and men.
'O mother, hear me yet before I die.Hath he not sworn his love a thousand times,In this green valley, under this green hill,Ev'n on this hand, and sitting on this stone?Seal'd it with kisses? water'd it with tears?O happy tears, and how unlike to these!O happy Heaven, how canst thou see my face?O happy earth, how canst thou bear my weight?O death, death, death, thou ever-floating cloud,There are enough unhappy on this earth,Pass by the happy souls, that love to live:I pray thee, pass before my light of life,And shadow all my soul, that I may die.Thou weighest heavy on the heart within,Weigh heavy on my eyelids: let me die.
'O mother, hear me yet before I die.I will not die alone, for fiery thoughtsDo shape themselves within me, more and more,Whereof I catch the issue, as I hearDead sounds at night come from the inmost hills,Like footsteps upon wool. I dimly seeMy far-off doubtful purpose, as a motherConjectures of the features of her childEre it is born: her child!-a shudder comesAcross me: never child be born of me,Unblest, to vex me with his father's eyes!
'O mother, hear me yet before I die.Hear me, O earth. I will not die alone,Lest their shrill happy laughter come to meWalking the cold and starless road of deathUncomforted, leaving my ancient loveWith the Greek woman. I will rise and goDown into Troy, and ere the stars come forthTalk with the wild Cassandra, for she saysA fire dances before her, and a soundRings ever in her ears of armed men.What this may be I know not, but I knowThat, wheresoe'er I am by night and day,All earth and air seem only burning fire.'
About the author
About the poet
Alfred Tennyson, 1st Baron Tennyson, FRS was Poet Laureate of the United Kingdom during much of Queen Victoria's reign and remains one of the most popular poets in the English language.
Tennyson excelled at penning short lyrics, such as "In the Valley of Cauteretz", "Break, Break, Break", "The Charge of the Light Brigade", "Tears, Idle Tears" and "Crossing the Bar". Much of his verse was based on classical mythological themes, such as Ulysses, although In Memoriam A.H.H. was written to commemorate his best friend Arthur Hallam, a fellow poet and fellow student at Trinity College, Cambridge, who was engaged to Tennyson's sister, but died from a brain haemorrhage before they could marry. Tennyson also wrote some notable blank verse including Idylls of the King, "Ulysses," and "Tithonus." During his career, Tennyson attempted drama, but his plays enjoyed little success.
A number of phrases from Tennyson's work have become commonplaces of the English language, including "Nature, red in tooth and claw", "'Tis better to have loved and lost / Than never to have loved at all", "Theirs not to reason why, / Theirs but to do and die", "My strength is as the strength of ten, / Because my heart is pure", "Knowledge comes, but Wisdom lingers", and "The old order changeth, yielding place to new". He is the ninth most frequently quoted writer in The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations.
Early Life
Tennyson was born in Somersby, Lincolnshire, a rector's son and fourth of 12 children. He derived from a middle-class line of Tennysons, but also had noble and royal ancestry.
His father, George Clayton Tennyson (1778–1831), was rector of Somersby (1807–1831), also rector of Benniworth and Bag Enderby, and vicar of Grimsby (1815). The rector was the elder of two sons, but was disinherited at an early age by his father, the landowner George Tennyson (1750–1835) (owner of Bayons Manor and Usselby Hall), in favour of his younger brother Charles, who later took the name Charles Tennyson d'Eyncourt. Rev. George Clayton Tennyson raised a large family and "was a man of superior abilities and varied attainments, who tried his hand with fair success in architecture, painting, music, and poetry. He was comfortably well off for a country clergyman and his shrewd money management enabled the family to spend summers at Mablethorpe and Skegness, on the eastern coast of England." Alfred Tennyson's mother, Elizabeth Fytche (1781–1865), was the daughter of Stephen Fytche (1734–1799), vicar of St. James Church, Louth (1764) and rector of Withcall (1780), a small village between Horncastle and Louth. Tennyson's father "carefully attended to the education and training of his children."
Tennyson and two of his elder brothers were writing poetry in their teens, and a collection of poems by all three were published locally when Alfred was only 17. One of those brothers, Charles Tennyson Turner later married Louisa Sellwood, the younger sister of Alfred's future wife; the other was Frederick Tennyson. Another of Tennyson's brothers, Edward Tennyson, was institutionalised at a private asylum, where he died.
Education and First Publication
Tennyson was first a student of Louth Grammar School for four years (1816–1820) and then attended Scaitcliffe School, Englefield Green and King Edward VI Grammar School, Louth. He entered Trinity College, Cambridge in 1827,[4] where he joined a secret society called the Cambridge Apostles. At Cambridge Tennyson met Arthur Henry Hallam, who became his closest friend. His first publication was a collection of "his boyish rhymes and those of his elder brother Charles" entitled Poems by Two Brothers published in 1827.
In 1829 he was awarded the Chancellor's Gold Medal at Cambridge for one of his first pieces, "Timbuctoo." Reportedly, "it was thought to be no slight honour for a young man of twenty to win the chancellor's gold medal."He published his first solo collection of poems, Poems Chiefly Lyrical in 1830. "Claribel" and "Mariana", which later took their place among Tennyson's most celebrated poems, were included in this volume. Although decried by some critics as overly sentimental, his verse soon proved popular and brought Tennyson to the attention of well-known writers of the day, including Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
Return to Lincolnshire and Second Publication
In the spring of 1831 Tennyson's father died, requiring him to leave Cambridge before taking his degree. He returned to the rectory, where he was permitted to live for another six years, and shared responsibility for his widowed mother and the family. Arthur Hallam came to stay with his family during the summer and became engaged to Tennyson's sister, Emilia Tennyson.
In 1833, Tennyson published his second book of poetry, which included his well-known poem, The Lady of Shalott. The volume met heavy criticism, which so discouraged Tennyson that he did not publish again for 10 years, although he continued to write. That same year, Hallam died suddenly and unexpectedly after suffering a cerebral haemorrhage while on vacation in Vienna. Hallam's sudden and unexpected death in 1833 had a profound impact on Tennyson, and inspired several masterpieces, including "In the Valley of Cauteretz" and In Memoriam A.H.H., a long poem detailing the 'Way of the Soul'.
Tennyson and his family were allowed to stay in the rectory for some time, but later moved to High Beach, Essex in 1837. An unwise investment in an ecclesiastical wood-carving enterprise soon led to the loss of much of the family fortune. Tennyson then moved to London, and lived for a time at Chapel House, Twickenham.
Third Publication
In 1842, while living modestly in London, Tennyson published two volumes of Poems, of which the first included works already published and the second was made up almost entirely of new poems. They met with immediate success. Poems from this collection, such as Locksley Hall, "Tithonus", and "Ulysses" have met enduring fame. The Princess: A Medley, a satire on women's education, which came out in 1847, was also popular for its lyrics. W. S. Gilbert later adapted and parodied the piece twice: in The Princess (1870) and in Princess Ida (1884).
It was in 1850 that Tennyson reached the pinnacle of his career, finally publishing his masterpiece, In Memoriam A.H.H., dedicated to Hallam. Later the same year he was appointed Poet Laureate, succeeding William Wordsworth . In the same year (on 13 June), Tennyson married Emily Sellwood, whom he had known since childhood, in the village of Shiplake. They had two sons, Hallam Tennyson (b. 11 August 1852) – named after his friend – and Lionel (b. 16 March 1854).
Poet Laureate
After Wordsworth's death in 1850, and Samuel Rogers' refusal, Tennyson was appointed to the position of Poet Laureate, which he held until his own death in 1892, by far the longest tenure of any laureate before or since. He fulfilled the requirements of this position by turning out appropriate but often uninspired verse, such as a poem of greeting to Alexandra of Denmark when she arrived in Britain to marry the future King Edward VII. In 1855, Tennyson produced one of his best known works, "The Charge of the Light Brigade", a dramatic tribute to the British cavalrymen involved in an ill-advised charge on 25 October 1854, during the Crimean War. Other esteemed works written in the post of Poet Laureate include Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington and Ode Sung at the Opening of the International Exhibition.
Queen Victoria was an ardent admirer of Tennyson's work, and in 1884 created him Baron Tennyson, of Aldworth in the County of Sussex and of Freshwater in the Isle of Wight. Tennyson initially declined a baronetcy in 1865 and 1868 (when tendered by Disraeli), finally accepting a peerage in 1883 at Gladstone's earnest solicitation. He took his seat in the House of Lords on 11 March 1884.
Tennyson also wrote a substantial quantity of non-official political verse, from the bellicose "Form, Riflemen, Form", on the French crisis of 1859, to "Steersman, be not precipitate in thine act/of steering", deploring Gladstone's Home Rule Bill.
Tennyson was the first to be raised to a British Peerage for his writing. A passionate man with some peculiarities of nature, he was never particularly comfortable as a peer, and it is widely held that he took the peerage in order to secure a future for his son Hallam.
Thomas Edison made sound recordings of Tennyson reading his own poetry, late in his life. They include recordings of The Charge of the Light Brigade, and excerpts from "The splendour falls" (from The Princess), "Come into the garden" (from Maud), "Ask me no more", "Ode on the death of the Duke of Wellington", "Charge of the Heavy Brigade", and "Lancelot and Elaine"; the sound quality is as poor as wax cylinder recordings usually are.
Towards the end of his life Tennyson revealed that his "religious beliefs also defied convention, leaning towards agnosticism and pandeism": Famously, he wrote in In Memoriam: "There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds." [The context directly contradicts the apparent meaning of this quote.] In Maud, 1855, he wrote: "The churches have killed their Christ." In "Locksley Hall Sixty Years After," Tennyson wrote: "Christian love among the churches look'd the twin of heathen hate." In his play, Becket, he wrote: "We are self-uncertain creatures, and we may, Yea, even when we know not, mix our spites and private hates with our defence of Heaven." Tennyson recorded in his Diary (p. 127): "I believe in Pantheism of a sort." His son's biography confirms that Tennyson was not an orthodox Christian, noting that Tennyson praised Giordano Bruno and Spinoza on his deathbed, saying of Bruno, "His view of God is in some ways mine," in 1892.
Tennyson continued writing into his eighties. He died on 6 October 1892 at Aldworth, aged 83. He was buried at Westminster Abbey. A memorial was erected in All Saints' Church, Freshwater. His last words were; "Oh that press will have me now!".
He was succeeded as 2nd Baron Tennyson by his son, Hallam, who produced an authorised biography of his father in 1897, and was later the second Governor-General of Australia.
The art of Tennyson's Poetry
Tennyson used a wide range of subject matter, ranging from medieval legends to classical myths and from domestic situations to observations of nature, as source material for his poetry. The influence of John Keats and other Romantic poets published before and during his childhood is evident from the richness of his imagery and descriptive writing. He also handled rhythm masterfully. The insistent beat of Break, Break, Break emphasises the relentless sadness of the subject matter. Tennyson's use of the musical qualities of words to emphasise his rhythms and meanings is sensitive. The language of "I come from haunts of coot and hern" lilts and ripples like the brook in the poem and the last two lines of "Come down O maid from yonder mountain height" illustrate his telling combination of onomatopoeia, alliteration and assonance:
The moan of doves in immemorial elms
And murmuring of innumerable bees.
Tennyson was a craftsman who polished and revised his manuscripts extensively. Few poets have used such a variety of styles with such an exact understanding of metre; like many Victorian poets, he experimented in adapting the quantitative metres of Greek and Latin poetry to English. He reflects the Victorian period of his maturity in his feeling for order and his tendency towards moralising and self-indulgent melancholy. He also reflects a concern common among Victorian writers in being troubled by the conflict between religious faith and expanding scientific knowledge. Like many writers who write a great deal over a long time, he can be pompous or banal, but his personality rings throughout all his works – work that reflects a grand and special variability in its quality. Tennyson possessed the strongest poetic power; he put great length into many works, most famous of which are Maud and Idylls of the King, the latter one of literature's treatments of the legend of King Arthur and The Knights of the Round Table.