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ALFRED TENNYSON (1809-1892)

HE appointment of Tennyson as Poet Laureate upon the death of Wordsworth in 1850 was most appropriate because he expressed the ideals of Queen Victoria's reign. His life as well as his poetry was mid-Victorian. Like the majority of his countrymen he struggled to find his position in the world and to adapt his life to the astounding developments in commerce and science. In his early years he invested his savings in one of the quick-money-making schemes which ultimately failed. Hence he had to struggle to earn a living. But after he had reached his fortieth year, he was granted a pension through the agency of Thomas Carlyle. He also reached the same view about life that the middle class in general had adopted. They decided it was useless to try to understand all the mysteries of nature and life. Since there are some facts beyond comprehension of mankind, it is best to have faith, or as Tennyson said "to follow the gleam."

Tennyson thought that the poet should be a practical guide for his generation. He felt his responsibility as an interpreter of the life about him. Therefore he was intensely interested in the science and commerce of England, which was rapidly developing and expanding as a world power. To him the ideal life was one of action and accomplishment. Many of his poems reflect this attitude, but Locksley Hall shows most clearly its influence. In this poem he is the spokesman of the social interest of the nineteenth century. His vision of the future as it concerns both commerce and politics is particularly interesting in view of the events of the last ten years. Tennyson is thus revealed as a teacher of faith in future greatness to be gained by a "Federation of the world."

VISION OF THE FUTURE

Can I but relive in sadness? I will turn that earlier page.
Hide me from my deep emotion, O thou wondrous Mother-

Age!

Make me feel the wild pulsation that I felt before the strife, When I heard my days before me, and the tumult of my life;

Yearning for the large excitement that the coming years would yield,

Eager-hearted as a boy when first he leaves his father's field,

And at night along the dusky highway near and nearer drawn,

Sees in heaven the light of London flaring like a dreary

dawn;

And his spirit leaps within him to be gone before him then, Underneath the light he looks at, in among the throngs of

men;

Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something

new;

That which they have done but earnest of the things that they shall do.

For I dipt into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be;

Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails, Pilots of the purple twilight, dropping down with costly bales;

Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rain'd a ghastly dew

From the nations' airy navies grappling in the central blue;

Far along the world-wide whisper of the south-wind rushing warm,

With the standards of the peoples plunging thro' the thunder-storm;

Till the war-drum throbb'd no longer, and the battle-flags

were furl'd

In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the world.

There the common sense of most shall hold a fretful realm

in awe,

And the kindly earth shall slumber, lapt in universal law.

So I triumph'd ere my passion sweeping thro' me left me

dry,

Left me with the palsied heart, and left me with the jaundiced eye;

Eye, to which all order festers, all things here are out of joint.

Science moves, but slowly, slowly, creeping on from point to point.

Slowly comes a hungry people, as a lion, creeping nigher, Glares at one that nods and winks behind a slowly-dying fire.

Yet I doubt not thro' the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widen'd with the process of the

suns.

From Locksley Hall.

ODE SUNG AT THE OPENING OF THE INTERNATIONAL

EXHIBITION
I

Uplift a thousand voices full and sweet,

In this wide hall with earth's invention stored,
And praise th' invisible universal Lord,

Who lets once more in peace the nations meet,

Where Science, Art, and Labor have outpour'd Their myriad horns of plenty at our feet.

II

O silent father of our Kings to be,1
Mourn'd in this golden hour of jubilee,

For this, for all, we weep our thanks to thee!

III

The world-compelling plan was thine,

And lo! the long laborious miles

Of Palace; lo! the giant aisles,
Rich in model and design;
Harvest-tool and husbandry,
Loom and wheel and engin'ry,
Secrets of the sullen mine,

Steel and gold, and corn and wine,
Fabric rough, or fairy-fine,

Sunny tokens of the Line,

Polar marvels, and a feast

Of wonder, out of West and East,
And shapes and hues of Art divine!
All of beauty, all of use,

That one fair planet can produce,

Brought from under every star, Blown from over every main,

And mixt, as life is mixt with pain,

The works of peace with works of war.

IV

Is the goal so far away?

Far, how far no tongue can say,

Let us dream our dreams to-day.

V

O ye, the wise who think, the wise who reign,
From growing Commerce loose her latest chain,
And let the fair white-wing'd peacemaker fly
To happy havens under all the sky,

And mix the seasons and the golden hours;
Till each man find his own in all men's good,
And all men work in noble brotherhood,
Breaking their mailed fleets and armed towers,
And ruling by obeying Nature's powers,

And gathering all the fruits of earth and crown'd with all her flowers.