For 50-64. Modred. Malory represents him as the King's son. his character in the Idylls, see The Coming of Arthur, 200-202; Gareth and Lynette, 28-31, 409; Pelleas and Ettarre, last line; The Last Tournament, 166; Guinevere, passim. Almes 65-78. The legendary wars here referred to are related in Malory, Books i. and v. See The Coming of Arthur, last 16 lines. bury; in Wiltshire. The reference is, of course, to Guinevere. 79-117. Lyonesse. A mythical country, west of Cornwall. The Scilly Islands are doubtless the origin of this myth. Malory says the battle took place upon a down beside Salisbury and not far from the sea-side,' and declares, 'Never was there seen a more dolefuller battle in no Christian land.' 118-169. Excalibur (168). For the description of this famous weapon, see The Coming of Arthur, 238-264. 170-205. Camelot : probably Queen-Camel in Somersetshire, but the Arthurian geography is as uncertain as the Odyssean. For a description of the Hall at Camelot, see The Holy Grail, 225–257. Merlin. See the Coming of Arthur and Merlin and Vivien. 206-432. In this pathetic episode, Tennyson follows Malory closely, yet adds little touches of his own that light up the dim narrative of the old knight as the jewels lit up the haft of Excalibur. What these touches are, will best be seen by letting Malory speak for himself: he is no mean story-teller, in his own quaint way. But my time hieth fast, said the king. Therefore, said Arthur, take thou Excalibur, my good sword, and go with it to yonder water side, and when thou comest there, I charge thee throw my sword in that water, and come again, and tell me what thou there seest. My lord, said Bedivere, your commandment shall be done, and lightly bring you word again. So Sir Bedivere departed, and by the way he beheld that noble sword, that the pommel and haft were all of precious stones, and then he said to himself, If I throw this rich sword in the water, thereof shall never come good, but harm and loss. And then Sir Bedivere hid Excalibur under a tree. And as soon as he might he came again unto the king, and said he had been at the water, and had thrown the sword into the water. What sawest thou there? said the king. Sir, he said, I saw nothing but waves and winds. That is untruly said of thee, said the king; therefore go thou lightly again, and do my command as thou art to me lief and dear, spare not, but throw it in. Then Sir Bedivere returned again, and took the sword in his hand; and then him thought sin and shame to throw away that noble sword; and so eft he hid the sword, and returned again, and told to the king that he had been at the water, and done his commandment. What saw thou there? said the king. Sir, he said, I saw nothing but the waters wap and the waves wan. Ah traitor, untrue, said king Arthur, now hast thou betrayed me twice. Who would have wend that thou that hast been to me so lief and dear, and thou art named a noble knight, and would betray me for the riches of the sword. But now go again lightly, for thy long tarrying putteth me in great jeopardy of my life, for I have taken cold. And but if thou do now as I bid thee, if ever I may see thee, I shall slay thee with mine own hands, for thou wouldst for my rich sword see me dead. Then Sir Bedivere departed, and went to the sword, and lightly took it up, and went to the water side, and there he bound the girdle about the hilts, and then he threw the sword as far into the water as he might, and there came an arm and an hand above the water, and met it, and caught it, and so shook it thrice and brandished, and then vanished away the hand with the sword in the water. So Sir Bedivere came again to the king, and told him what he saw. Alas, said the king, help me hence, for I dread me I have tarried over long. Then Sir Bedivere took the king upon his back, and so went with him to the water side. And when they were at the water side, even fast by the bank hoved a little barge, with many fair ladies in it, and among them all was a queen, and all they had black hoods, and all they wept and shrieked when they saw king Arthur. Now put me into the barge, said the king and so he did softly. And there received him three queens with great mourning, and so they set him down, and in one of their laps king Arthur laid his head, and then that queen said, Ah, dear brother, why have ye tarried so long from me? Alas, this wound on your head hath caught over much cold. And so then they rowed from the land; and Sir Bedivere beheld all those ladies go from him. Then Sir Bedivere cried, Ah, my lord Arthur, what shall become of me now ye go from me, and leave me here alone among mine enemies. Comfort thyself, said the king, and do as well as thou mayest, for in me is no trust for to trust in. For I will into the vale of Avilion, to heal me of my grievous wound. And if thou hear never more of me, pray for my soul. This way and that dividing the swift mind (228). This is line 285 of Aeneid iv. : Atque animum nunc huc celerem, nunc dividit illuc. Notice the onomatopoetic effect in 238-239 and in 354-358. Three Queens (366): Faith, Hope and Charity (?). But see lines 452–456. The holy Elders (401). See Matthew ii. 1-12. Bound by gold chains about the feet of God (423). See note on Dryden's Character of a Good Parson, 14-24. 433-469. the weird rime. See The Coming of Arthur, 352-366. yon dark Queens. See The Coming of Arthur, 327–337. The line of hope, with which Tennyson closes his poem, is worthy the noble character he has depicted. What matter if King Arthur is an anachronism? So is Odysseus, so is Satan in Paradise Lost, so is Vergil in the Divine Comedy. - King Arthur interests us because he is a man, tried at all points like unto ourselves, struggling with Sense at war with Soul, beaten apparently in the conflict but leaving behind an imperishable Ideal around which future ages shall build a purer and a better Reality. So to live is heaven: To make undying music in the world, With growing sway the growing life of man. THE SPLENDOR FALLS. This exquisite song comes between the third and fourth parts of The Princess, and is one of the polished gems that redeem from mediocrity that curious medley. Notice the details of the poet's art: The first stanza carries the mind back into the historic past; a picture rises before us of Chivalry, with its blazonry of love and glory; we see the medieval castle, the mountains in the distance, with the lake sleeping at their feet and the white cataract smitten to gold by the rays of the setting sun. The second stanza completely etherializes this picture; transfers it to the Realm of Faerie. The third stanza carries the mind forward, suggesting Love, Immortality, Eternity. The charm added to the whole by the refrain of the bugle-notes, I shall not attempt to analyze. HOME THEY BROUGHT HER WARRIOR DEAD. This song comes between the fifth and sixth parts of The Princess. It is a lyrical rendering of an incident in Scott's Lay of the Last Minstrel, i. 9. In sorrow o'er Lord Walter's bier The Ladye dropp'd nor flower nor tear! Her son lisp'd from the nurse's knee My father's death revenged shall be!' BREAK, BREAK, BREAK. Arthur Henry Hallam died in 1833 and was buried in Clevedon Churchyard, on the coast of Somerset. This lyric appeared in the first collection of poems that Tennyson published after his friend's death. The sentiment, the imagery and the date of publication would all seem to point to Clevedon as the source of this lyric's inspiration: as to its actual composition, 'It was made,' said Tennyson, 'in a Lincolnshire lane at five o'clock in the morning.' THE BROOK. 'On the north [of Somersby Rectory] a straggling road winds up the steep hill towards the summit of the wold, while on the south a pebbly brook bubbles along close to the edge of the garden. Not at all the sort of scenery one associates with the fen-country: instead of dreary waters and low-lying levels, the landscape sweeps up into hills and drops into valleys, full of the sights and sounds of country life, and rich in flowery hollows and patches of tangled meadow-land. It requires no strain of imagination to catch the spirit of Tennyson's song here, where the little brook of his poem dances along through the heart of the country, chattering as it goes.'- Waugh's Tennyson, Cap. i. CROSSING THE BAR. This poem was published in 1889 when Tennyson was in his eighty-first year. It stands last in the volume entitled Demeter and Other Poems. Tennyson's friend, Arthur Waugh, has spoken a word thereon to which it would be hard to add anything of value: 'And last, yet incomparably first stands that perfect poem which is above criticism-composed (it is said) during the poet's passage across the Solent 'Crossing the Bar.' It has been translated into Greek and Latin, and set to music; but no alien note was needed to complete the dignified perfection of its harmony. There is no more beautiful utterance in all the range of English verse.' TENNYSON. In Lucem Transitus. Oct. 6, 1892. FROM the silent shores of midnight, touched with splendors of the morn, Brother of the greatest poets Lover of Immortal Love, true to nature, true to art, uplifter of the human heart, Who shall help us with high music, who shall sing if these depart? Silence here, for love is silent, gazing on the lessening sail; (Henry Van Dyke.) 160 SOME ATTEMPTS TO DEFINE POETRY. SOME ATTEMPTS TO DEFINE POETRY. I. Poetry in general seems to have originated from two causes, both natural ones; it is innate in men from childhood (1) to imitate - and herein we differ from other animals, in that we are the most imitative and acquire our first knowledge through imitation — and (2) to delight in imitations. Poetry is the province either of a man that is clever or of one who is in an enthusiasm akin to madness. Aristotle; Poetics: iv. 2 and xvii. 3. II. To which [Logic and Rhetoric] poetry would be made subsequent, or indeed rather precedent, as being less subtile and fine, but more simple, sensuous and passionate. I mean not here the prosody of a verse, which they could not but have hit on before among the rudiments of grammar; but that sublime art which in Aristotle's Poetics, in Horace and others, teaches us what the laws are of a true epic poem, what of a dramatic, what of a lyric, what decorum is, which is the grand masterpiece to observe. - Milton; On Education. III. A Poem is that species of composition, which is opposed to works of science, by proposing for its immediate object pleasure, not truth; and from all other species (having this object in common with it) - it is discriminated by proposing to itself such delight from the whole as is compatible with a distinct gratification from each component part. · Coleridge; Biographia Literaria, Cap. xiv. IV. All good poetry is the spontaneous overflow o. powerful feeling. Wordsworth; Preface to the Lyrical Ballads. V. Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds. — Shelley; Defense of Poetry. VI. Poetry is the suggestion, by the imagination, of noble grounds for the noble emotions. — Ruskin; Modern Painters: Part iv. Cap. i, § 13. to the VII. It is important, therefore, to hold fast to this: that poetry is at bottom a criticism of life; that the greatness of a poet lies in his powerful and beautiful application of ideas to life, question: How to live. Matthew Arnold; Essay on Wordsworth. VIII. Poetry is simply the most delightful and perfect form of utterance that human words can reach. Its rhythm and measure, elevated to a regularity, certainty, and force very different from that of the rhythm and measure which can pervade prose, are a part of its perfection. Matthew Arnold; The French Play in London. IX. Poetry, which is a glorified representation of all that is seen, felt, thought, or done, by man, perforce includes Religion and |