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II From that time forth I would not see her more, But many weary moons I lived alone— Alone, and in the heart of the great forest. Sometimes upon the hills beside the sea All day I watched the floating isles of shade, And sometimes on the shore, upon the sands Insensibly I drew her name, until The meaning of the letters shot into My brain: anon the wanton billow wash’d Them over, till they faded like my love. The hollow caverns heard me—the black brooks Of the mid-forest heard me—the soft winds, Laden with thistledown and seeds of flowers, Paused in their course to hear me, for my voice Was all of thee: the merry linnet knew me, The squirrel knew me, and the dragon-fly Shot by me like a flash of purple fire. The rough briar tore my bleeding palms; the hemlock, Brow high, did strike my forehead as I pas’d; Yet trod I not the wild-flower in my path, Nor bruised the wild-bird’s egg. Was this the end? Why grew we then together i’ the same plot? Why fed we the same fountain? drew the same sun? Why were our mothers branches of one stem? Why were we one in all things, save in that Where to have been one had been the roof and crown Of all I hoped and fear’d? if that same nearness Were father to this distance, and that one Vauntcourier this double? If affection Living slew Love, and Sympathy hew’d out The bosom-sepulchre of Sympathy. Chiefly I sought the cavern and the hill Where last we roam’d together, for the sound Of the loud stream was pleasant, and the wind Came wooingly with violet smells. Sometimes All day I sat within the cavern-mouth, Fixing my eyes on those three cypress-cones Which spired above the wood; and with mad hand Tearing the bright leaves of the ivy-screen, I cast them in the noisy brook beneath, And watch’d them till they vanished from my sight Beneath the bower of wreathed eglantines: And all the fragments of the living rock, (Huge splinters, which the sap of earliest showers, Or moisture of the vapour, left in clinging, When the shrill storm-blast feeds it from behind, And scatters it before, had shatter’d from The mountain, till they fell, and with the shock Half dug their own graves), in mine agony, Did I make bear of all the deep rich moss Wherewith the dashing runnel in the spring Had liveried them all over. In my brain The spirit seem’d to flag from thought to thought, Like moonlight wandering through a mist: my blood Crept like the drains of a marsh thro’ all my body; The motions of my heart seem’d far within me, Unfrequent, low, as tho’ it told its pulses; And yet it shook me, that my frame did shudder, As it were drawn asunder by the rack. But over the deep graves of Hope and Fear, The wreck of ruin’d life and shatter’d thought, Brooded one master-passion evermore, Like to a low hung and a fiery sky Above some great metropolis, earth shock’d Hung round with ragged-rimmed burning folds, Embathing all with wild and woful hues— Great hills of ruins, and collapsed masses Of thunder-shaken columns, indistinct And fused together in the tyrannous light. So gazed I on the ruins of that thought Which was the playmate of my youth—for which I lived and breathed: the dew, the sun, the rain, Unto the growth of body and of mind; The blood, the breath, the feeling and the motion, The slope into the current of my years, Which drove them onward—made them sensible; The precious jewel of my honour’d life, Erewhile close couch’d in golden happiness, Now proved counterfeit, was shaken out, And, trampled on, left to its own decay.

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Alfred Lord Tennyson: I

  • Alfred Lord Tennyson: I

TrendingHere are the facts and trivia that people are buzzing about.

Did Birds Evolve from Dinosaurs?

The Twelve Dancing Princesses

Current Events This Week: January 2023

African Americans by the Numbers

Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents

The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales

TrendingHere are the facts and trivia that people are buzzing about.

Did Birds Evolve from Dinosaurs?

The Twelve Dancing Princesses

Current Events This Week: January 2023

African Americans by the Numbers

Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents

The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales

  • Did Birds Evolve from Dinosaurs?
  • The Twelve Dancing Princesses
  • Current Events This Week: January 2023
  • African Americans by the Numbers
  • Andersen’s Fairy Tales: Contents
  • The Celtic Twilight: A Teller of Tales