TENNYSON. 649 and desire which they inspired were seldom mingled with respect, ALFRED TENNYSON, 1810. ALFRED TENNYSON, the present poet laureate of England, is the son of a clergyman of Lincolnshire, and was born about the year 1810. He went through the usual routine of a university education at Trinity College, Cambridge, and since then has lived a life of retirement. There is nothing particularly eventful in his biography, and beyond a very small circle it is said he is seldom met. 1830, he first appeared as an author, by publishing a small volume of verses, In which was succeeded by a second volume, three years afterward. In 1843 appeared his two volumes, including many of his former productions, considerably altered, with the addition of many new ones. "The Princess, a Medley,"-the largest and most ambitious of his works,'-and His more recent publications are "In Memoriam," which may be said to be the most characteristic. The latter is a tribute to his departed friend, Arthur H. Hallam, a son of the celebrated historian, to whom he was bound by many endearing ties, and who was on the point of marrying the poet's sister, when he sickened and died. As a poet, Tennyson, like Wordsworth, has divided the critics; and here, as in most cases, the truth is not to be found in either extreme. minor pieces are truly beautiful and interest the feelings, and while we find, While some of his here and there, a gem in his larger productions, it must be acknowledged that much of what he has written is quaint, speculative, affected, and enigmatical.2 Among the beauties which atone for these faults, the "May Queen" stands out in prominent relief, for its simple and natural truthfulness, and touching pathos. It is, however, so generally known, having been brought before the public in so The subject of the "Princess" relates to a certain philosophical princess, who founded a college of women, to be educated in high contempt for the male sex. This royal champion of "women's rights" has been betrothed to a neighboring prince, and the poet, assuming the character of this prince, narrates the tale. faults are so inextricably interwoven, and the latter are so glaring and many, that, as a sin"As a poem," says Mr. Moir, "its beauties and cere admirer of the genius of Tennyson, I could almost wish it had remained unwritten. I admit the excellence of particular passages; but it has neither general harmony of design nor sustained merit of execution." 2 Some of his critics are to me as enigmatical as the poet himself. For instance, the author of the "Illustrious Personages of the Nineteenth Century" says, in his praise, (I presume,) "He can gather up his strength like a serpent, in the gleaming coil of a line, or dart it out straight and free." I candidly confess I know not what this means, as applied to poetry. Read notices of Tennyson's works in "Gentleman's Magazine," Feb. 1848; "North British Review," ix. 43, and xiii. 473; "Edinburgh," lxxvii. 373; and "London Quarterly," lxx. 355. 55 many ways, that I refrain from quoting it. But the following pieces favorably represent him :- LADY CLARA VERE DE VERE. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, Of me you shall not win renown; Lady Clara Vere de Vere, I know you proud to bear your name; Too proud to care from whence I came. Is worth a hundred coats-of-arms. Some meeker pupil you must find; I could not stoop to such a mind. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, You put strange memories in my head: Lady Clara Vere de Vere, When thus he met his mother's view, She spake some certain truths of you. Indeed, I heard one bitter word That scarce is fit for you to hear: Her manners had not that repose Which stamps the caste of Vere de Vere. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, There stands a spectre in your hall! You changed a wholesome heart to gall! Trust me, Clara Vere de Vere, From yon blue heavens above us bent Smile at the claims of long descent. 'Tis only noble to be good; Kind hearts are more than coronets, I know you, Clara Vere de Vere,- In glowing health, with boundless wealth, You know so ill to deal with Time, You needs must play such pranks as these. Clara, Clara Vere de Vere, If Time be heavy on your hands, Are there no beggars at your gate, Nor any poor about your lands? Oh! teach the orphan-boy to read, Or teach the orphan-girl to sew; Pray Heaven for a human heart, And let the foolish yeoman go. 651 THE LORD OF BURLEIGH. In her ear he whispers gayly, And they leave her father's roof. "I can make no marriage present; Little can I give my wife. Love will make our cottage pleasant, They by parks and lodges going Summer woods, about them blowing, So she goes, by him attended, Sees whatever fair and splendid Where they twain will spend their days. Bows before him at the door. All at once the color flushes Her sweet face from brow to chin: As it were with shame she blushes, And her spirit changed within. Then her countenance all over Pale again as death did prove; But he clasp'd her like a lover, And he cheer'd her soul with love. So she strove against her weakness, Though at times her spirits sank; Shaped her heart, with woman's meekness, To all duties of her rank: And a gentle consort made he, And her gentle mind was such, That she grew a noble lady, And the people loved her much. But a trouble weigh'd upon her, And perplex'd her, night and morn, With the burden of an honor Unto which she was not born. Faint she grew, and ever fainter, As she murmur'd-"Oh! that he Were once more that landscape-painter, Three fair children first she bore him, And he look'd at her, and said- THE BUGLE SONG. The splendor falls on castle walls Oh, hark! oh, hear! how thin and clear, O love, they die on yon rich sky, They faint on hill, on field, on river; Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, CIRCUMSTANCE.1 Two children in two neighbor villages Playing mad pranks along the heathy leas; Two strangers meeting at a festival; Two lovers whispering by an orchard wall; So runs the round of life from hour to hour. These few lines set before us very pleasantly two villagers-playing, parted, meeting, loving, wedding, dying, and leaving behind them two orphan children. |