The Early Poems of Alfred Lord Tennyson Part 24

[Footnote 3: Compare Keats, 'Eve of St. Agnes', "her maiden eyes divine".]

[Footnote 4: 1833. "Madonna," with melodious moan Sang Mariana, etc.]

[Footnote 5: 1833. When the dawncrimson changed.]

[Footnote 6: 1833.

Unto our Lady prayed she.

She moved her lips, she prayed alone, She praying disarrayed and warm From slumber, deep her wavy form In the dark-l.u.s.trous mirror shone.

"Madonna," in a low clear tone Said Mariana, night and morn, Low she mourned, "I am all alone, Love-forgotten, and love-forlorn".]

[Footnote 7: 1833.

At noon she slumbered. All along The silvery field, the large leaves talked With one another, as among The spiked maize in dreams she walked.

The lizard leapt: the sunlight played: She heard the callow nestling lisp, And brimful meadow-runnels crisp.

In the full-leaved platan-shade.

In sleep she breathed in a lower tone, Murmuring as at night and morn, "Madonna! lo! I am all alone.

Love-forgotten and love-forlorn".]

[Footnote 8: 1835. Most false: he was and was not there.]

[Footnote 9: 1833. The sick olive. So the text remained till 1850, when "one" was subst.i.tuted.]

[Footnote 10: 1833.

From the bald rock the blinding light Beat ever on the sunwhite wall.]

[Footnote 11: 1833.

"Madonna, leave me not all alone, To die forgotten and live forlorn."]

[Footnote 12: This stanza and the next not in 1833.]

[Footnote 13: 1833.

One dry cicala's summer song At night filled all the gallery.

Ever the low wave seemed to roll Up to the coast: far on, alone In the East, large Hesper overshone The mourning gulf, and on her soul Poured divine solace, or the rise Of moonlight from the margin gleamed, Volcano-like, afar, and streamed On her white arm, and heavenward eyes.

Not all alone she made her moan, Yet ever sang she, night and morn, "Madonna! lo! I am all alone, Love-forgotten and love-forlorn".]

ELEaNORE

First printed in 1833. When reprinted in 1842 the alterations noted were then made, and after that the text remained unchanged.

1

Thy dark eyes open'd not, Nor first reveal'd themselves to English air, For there is nothing here, Which, from the outward to the inward brought, Moulded thy baby thought.

Far off from human neighbourhood, Thou wert born, on a summer morn, A mile beneath the cedar-wood.

Thy bounteous forehead was not fann'd With breezes from our oaken glades, But thou wert nursed in some delicious land Of lavish lights, and floating shades: And flattering thy childish thought The oriental fairy brought, At the moment of thy birth, From old well-heads of haunted rills, And the hearts of purple hills, And shadow'd coves on a sunny sh.o.r.e, The choicest wealth of all the earth, Jewel or sh.e.l.l, or starry ore, To deck thy cradle, Eleanore. [1]

2

Or the yellow-banded bees, [2]

Thro' [3] half-open lattices Coming in the scented breeze, Fed thee, a child, lying alone, With whitest honey in fairy gardens cull'd-- A glorious child, dreaming alone, In silk-soft folds, upon yielding down, With the hum of swarming bees Into dreamful slumber lull'd.

3

Who may minister to thee?

Summer herself should minister To thee, with fruitage golden-rinded On golden salvers, or it may be, Youngest Autumn, in a bower Grape-thicken'd from the light, and blinded With many a deep-hued bell-like flower Of fragrant trailers, when the air Sleepeth over all the heaven, And the crag that fronts the Even, All along the shadowing sh.o.r.e, Crimsons over an inland [4] mere, [5] Eleanore!

4

How may full-sail'd verse express, How may measured words adore The full-flowing harmony Of thy swan-like stateliness, Eleanore?

The luxuriant symmetry Of thy floating gracefulness, Eleanore?

Every turn and glance of thine, Every lineament divine, Eleanore, And the steady sunset glow, That stays upon thee? For in thee Is nothing sudden, nothing single; Like two streams of incense free From one censer, in one shrine, Thought and motion mingle, Mingle ever. Motions flow To one another, even as tho' [6]

They were modulated so To an unheard melody, Which lives about thee, and a sweep Of richest pauses, evermore Drawn from each other mellow-deep; Who may express thee, Eleanore?

5

I stand before thee, Eleanore; I see thy beauty gradually unfold, Daily and hourly, more and more.

I muse, as in a trance, the while Slowly, as from a cloud of gold, Comes out thy deep ambrosial smile. [7]

I muse, as in a trance, whene'er The languors of thy love-deep eyes Float on to me. _I_ would _I_ were So tranced, so rapt in ecstacies, To stand apart, and to adore, Gazing on thee for evermore, Serene, imperial Eleanore!

6

Sometimes, with most intensity Gazing, I seem to see Thought folded over thought, smiling asleep, Slowly awaken'd, grow so full and deep In thy large eyes, that, overpower'd quite, I cannot veil, or droop my sight, But am as nothing in its light: As tho' [8] a star, in inmost heaven set, Ev'n while we gaze on it, Should slowly round his...o...b.. and slowly grow To a full face, there like a sun remain Fix'd--then as slowly fade again, And draw itself to what it was before; So full, so deep, so slow, Thought seems to come and go In thy large eyes, imperial Eleanore.

7

As thunder-clouds that, hung on high, Roof'd the world with doubt and fear, [9]

Floating thro' an evening atmosphere, Grow golden all about the sky; In thee all pa.s.sion becomes pa.s.sionless, Touch'd by thy spirit's mellowness, Losing his fire and active might In a silent meditation, Falling into a still delight, And luxury of contemplation: As waves that up a quiet cove Rolling slide, and lying still Shadow forth the banks at will: [10]

Or sometimes they swell and move, Pressing up against the land, With motions of the outer sea: And the self-same influence Controlleth all the soul and sense Of Pa.s.sion gazing upon thee.

His bow-string slacken'd, languid Love, Leaning his cheek upon his hand, [11]