TO

HENRY LUSHINGTON

THIS VOLUME IS INSCRIBED

BY HIS FRIEND

A. TENNYSON.

40 X514

THE PRINCESS:

A MEDLEY.

PROLOGUE.

SIR WALTER VIVIAN all a summer's day

Gave his broad lawns until the set of sun

Up to the people: thither flock'd at noon
His tenants, wife and child, and thither half

The neighbouring borough with their Institute

Of which he was the patron. I was there
From college, visiting the son,—the son
A Walter too,—with others of our set,
Five others: we were seven at Vivian-place.

And me that morning Walter show'd the house,

B

Greek, set with busts : from vases in the hall

Flowers of all heavens, and lovelier than their names,
Grew side by side ; and on the pavement lay
Carved stones of the Abbey-ruin in the park,

Huge Ammonites, and the first bones of Time;

And on the tables

every

clime and age

Jumbled together; celts and calumets,
Claymore and snowshoe, toys in lava, fans
Of sandal, amber, ancient rosaries,
Laborious orient ivory sphere in sphere,
The cursed Malayan crease, and battle-clubs
From the isles of palm : and higher on the walls,
Betwixt the monstrous horns of elk and deer,

His own forefathers' arms and armour hung.

And 'this' he said was Hugh's at Agincourt;
And that was old Sir Ralph's at Ascalon:
A good knight he! we keep a chronicle
With all about him '—which he brought, and I
Dived in a hoard of tales that dealt with knights