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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ON A MOURNER, by ALFRED TENNYSON Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Nature, so far as in her lies Last Line: The falsehood of extremes! Alternate Author Name(s): Tennyson, Lord Alfred; Tennyson, 1st Baron; Tennyson Of Aldworth And Farringford, Baron Subject(s): Freedom; Mourning; Liberty; Bereavement | |||
I NATURE, so far as in her lies, Imitates God, and turns her face To every land beneath the skies, Counts nothing that she meets with base, But lives and loves in every place; II Fills out the homely quickset-screens, And makes the purple lilac ripe, Steps from her airy hill, and greens The swamp, where humm'd the dropping snipe, With moss and braided marish-pipe; III And on thy heart a finger lays, Saying, 'Beat quicker, for the time Is pleasant, and the woods and ways Are pleasant, and the beech and lime Put forth and feel a gladder clime.' IV And murmurs of a deeper voice, Going before to some far shrine, Teach that sick heart the stronger choice, Till all thy life one way incline With one wide Will that closes thine. V And when the zoning eve has died Where yon dark valleys wind forlorn, Come Hope and Memory, spouse and bride, From out the borders of the morn, With that fair child betwixt them born. VI And when no mortal motion jars The blackness round the tombing sod, Thro' silence and the trembling stars Comes Faith from tracts no feet have trod, And Virtue, like a household god VII Promising empire; such as those Once heard at dead of night to greet Troy's wandering prince, so that he rose With sacrifice, while all the fleet Had rest by stony hills of Crete. YOU ask me, why, tho' ill at ease, Within this region I subsist, Whose spirits falter in the mist, And languish for the purple seas. It is the land that freemen till, That sober-suited Freedom chose, The land, where girt with friends or foes A man may speak the thing he will; A land of settled government, A land of just and old renown, Where Freedom slowly broadens down From precedent to precedent; Where faction seldom gathers head, But, by degrees to fullness wrought, The strength of some diffusive thought Hath time and space to work and spread. Should banded unions persecute Opinion, and induce a time When single thought is civil crime, And individual freedom mute, Tho' power should make from land to land The name of Britain trebly great -- Tho' every channel of the State Should fill and choke with golden sand -- Yet waft me from the harbor-mouth, Wild wind! I seek a warmer sky, And I will see before I die The palms and temples of the South. OF old sat Freedom on the heights, The thunders breaking at her feet; Above her shook the starry lights; She heard the torrents meet. There in her place she did rejoice, Self-gather'd in her prophet-mind, But fragments of her mighty voice Came rolling on the wind. Then stept she down thro' town and field To mingle with the human race, And part by part to men reveal'd The fullness of her face -- Grave mother of majestic works, From her isle-altar gazing down, Who, Godlike, grasps the triple forks, And, king-like, wears the crown. Her open eyes desire the truth. The wisdom of a thousand years Is in them. May perpetual youth Keep dry their light from tears; That her fair form may stand and shine, Make bright our days and light our dreams, Turning to scorn with lips divine The falsehood of extremes! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HUNGERFIELD by ROBINSON JEFFERS THE MOURNER by LOUISE MOREY BOWMAN HECUBA MOURNS by MARILYN NELSON THERE IS NO GOD BUT by AGHA SHAHID ALI IF I COULD MOURN LIKE A MOURNING DOVE by FRANK BIDART A CHARACTER by ALFRED TENNYSON |
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