^<^S The 
 
 yEsilietic Nature of 
 Tennyson 
 
 Jean Pauline Smith 
 
S'SJfT 
 
 CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Mr. Preston Beyer 
 
 UNDERGRADUATE LIBRARY 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PR 5588.S65 
 
 The aesthetic nature of Tennyson 
 
 3 1924 013 561 075 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013561075 
 
THE AESTHETIC NATURE OF 
 TENNYSON 
 
The Aesthetic Nature 
 of Tennyson 
 
 by 
 JEAN PAULINE SMITH, A.B., A.M. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 JAMES T. WHITE & CO. 
 
 1920 
 
Or 
 
 JAMES T. WHITE & CO. 
 COPYRIGHT 1920 
 
To Lovers and Readers of Tennyson 
 I Dedicate this Little Book 
 
 "No nightingale delighteth to prolong 
 
 Her low preamble all alone 
 More than my soul to hear her echo'd song 
 
 Throb through the ribbed stone ; 
 
 Singing and murmuring in her feastful mirth, 
 
 Joyful to feel herself alive, 
 Lord over Nature, Lord of the visible earth. 
 
 Lord of the senses five" . . . 
 
 Palace of Art. 
 
THE AESTHETIC NATURE OF 
 TENNYSON 
 
 In this study it is my purpose to show to what 
 extent the different sense-impressions have ap- 
 pealed to Tennyson in his writing. The spir- 
 ituality of the Universe is realized through the 
 more intellectual senses of hearing and seeing. 
 By means of these and by touch, which brings 
 us in direct contact with the physical world, and 
 because of our observations we are lifted to a 
 higher plane and to a broader understanding 
 of Nature and Man. By these we are able to 
 communicate with others and with Nature. 
 Whitman has said that "all objective grandeurs 
 of the world, for highest purposes, yield them- 
 selves up, and depend on mentality alone." 
 
 The influence of the world on every individual 
 is through his senses — mainly through touch, 
 .sight, and sound — especially after one has passed 
 the infant stage. We are thus able to relate each 
 day's experience to life as a whole. It is through 
 the poetry of a man that we are able to expe- 
 rience, in our minds, his feelings and moods as 
 he wrote, to see with him the scenes and figyres 
 which his imagination or experience enabled him 
 7 
 
to paint in the medium chosen by him — namely, 
 language. One thinks instantly of "The Vision 
 of Sin," which is one of the most striking ex- 
 amples of this phase of Tennyson's work. 
 
 Some psychologists — ^as Bosanquet, for in- 
 stance, in his "Three Lectures on the Aesthetic" 
 — have referred to hearing and seeing as the 
 "aesthetic senses," while they consider touch, 
 taste, and smell as anaesthetic. Bosanquet does 
 acknowledge, however, that some of the aesthetic 
 may be found in all pleasant feeling.' Accord- 
 ing to these assertions — ^any feeling, from that 
 pleasure gained when one is hungry to the 
 feeling of the wind or sea-breeze, may be con- 
 sidered aesthetic, as they are. They say also 
 that it would not necessarily be the pleasantest 
 scent which would produce an "aesthetic atti- 
 tude," but that which gave the most interesting 
 association — and that this association or Value 
 would be false, because the beauty — ^as of sea or 
 marsh — would not be thought of in connection 
 with the nature of the scent. This, I think, is 
 false, because odors, especially of nature, in- 
 variably bring memories connected with the 
 scent. Take for example Sidney Lanier's 
 "Marshes of Glynn." These same writers — 
 
 "Bosanquet— Th;p^e- Lectures -on ■ Aesthetic — pp. i«f- 
 
 II. ■ 
 
 8 
 
Bosanquet 1 quote as an instance' — also state 
 that touch, the last of these so-called unaesthetic 
 senses, is regarded only as it gives an idea of 
 the nature of a surface — its shape, roughness, 
 or smoothness. This is true in one respect, but 
 touch of that kind is as with the fingers. Touch, 
 as of the wind or rain, seems to play as important 
 a part in the aesthetic nature of man and in his 
 enjoyment of the outdoor world, as does touch 
 with the fingers. And again, we have the cases 
 of blind people, who, though exceptions to the 
 general rule, are able to feel through touch the 
 aesthetic beauty and value where others with all 
 their senses do not. 
 
 In Tennyson's poetry one sees also that the 
 sense of smell has its aesthetic value — if one may 
 call it such — while hearing and seeing are re- 
 garded as both aesthetic and intellectual. We 
 realize with the poet that the more one observes, 
 the more one is alert to what transpires in the 
 world about him, the more does he appreciate the 
 value of impressions gained through the senses — 
 especially those of so-called aesthetic value. 
 
 As Home has written of Tennyson, "he is 
 no less able to 'pipe to the spirit ditties of no 
 tone,' for certainly his works are equally char- 
 
 "Bosanquet — Three Lectures on Aesthetic — pp. lo- 
 II. 
 
 9 
 
acterized by thin thought, grace, depth of sent- 
 iment, and ideal beauty. And he not only has the 
 most musical words at his command . . . but 
 he possesses the power of conveying a sense of 
 colour, and a precision of outline by means of 
 \\'ords, to an extraordinary degree. In music 
 and colour he was equalled by Shelley; but in 
 form, clearly defined, with no apparent effort, 
 and no harsh shades or lines, Tennyson stands 
 unrivalled." 
 
 We shall find in this poet a broad creative 
 imagination, but at the same time a wise control 
 over it ; a power of entering into the spirit of his 
 ideal characters ; a peculiar fusing of his vivid 
 picturesque objects by means of a strong emo- 
 tion; a variety of lyrical measures with a melo- 
 dious harmony and modulation in tone with the 
 rise and fall of feelings expressed; and last, 
 lofty habits of thought, carrying a mellow 
 soberness of tone. 
 
 ID 
 
THE UNAESTHKTIC SENSES ^ 
 TOUCH AND TASTE 
 
 The Sense of Touch. 
 
 Physical touch, as with the fingers, is rarely 
 referred to directly by Tennyson, but in all the 
 poems where Nature is an important factor, one 
 feels the summer breeze, or balmy air from the 
 sea. Like Wordsworth, Tennyson thought that 
 
 "Our bodies feel, where'er they be, 
 Against or with our will." 
 
 The few direct allusions to touch may be cited. 
 In "The Princess," for example, are the lines : 
 
 . . . . "a touch 
 
 Came round my wrist and tears upon my 
 hand" ... 
 
 in "Pelleas and Ettarre" is the phrase, "she, that 
 felt the cold touch on her throat." As the 
 father, in the poem, "The Ring," tells his story 
 to his daughter, he makes but two references 
 to the sense of touch : ... 
 
 "while her lips 
 Were warm upon my cheek" 
 
 and 
 
 "H:ook and chafed the. .freeaing hand;" 
 U 
 
Again in "The Dawn" there is an alkision to the 
 "babe in the red-hot palms of a Moloch of Tyre," 
 while "In Memoriam" has the phrase, "thy 
 brows are cold." In this strict sense of the word, 
 touch is referred to only these few times. But 
 in the broader sense, one is continually feeliiig 
 with Tennyson the breeze from the "deep myrrh- 
 thickets blowing round"," the breeze coming 
 through the lattice, or the, "amorous wind" 
 which 
 
 "Breaths low between the sunset and the 
 moon."" 
 
 As we read "Aylmer's Field", we feel the "soft 
 river-breeze" or the gale 
 
 "That blown about the foliage underneath. 
 
 Beat balm upon our eyelids."" 
 
 We are refreshed by the "ambrosial air" which 
 fans our brows and blows the fever from our 
 cheeks," and by the rose-sweenen'd air of a 
 
 'Recollections of Arabian Kights — v. lo. 
 
 'Eleanore— V. VIII. 
 
 "The Princess — III. 
 
 "In Memoriam-^LXXXVI. ..:. .. ■ , . 
 
 12 
 
sultry summer evening. "The morning air. 
 sweet after rain" blows coolness and moisture. 
 
 It is the sense of touch which first makes us 
 conscious of our surroundings — whether physical 
 touch or the touch of light-waves on our eyes, 
 or the touch of a breeze, or of sound-waves. 
 This seems to be the fundamental sense and 
 from it come the others. The aesthetic value 
 of it was appreciated by -Tennyson, for some of 
 his most effective work is in allusions to the 
 effect gained through man's contact with some 
 physical or natural force, such as the wind. 
 
 The Sense of 1\\ste. 
 
 The second of these less intellectual senses, 
 taste, is — in the number of allusions to it — almost 
 negligible. The direct references to taste are 
 found inainly in descriptions of banquets and 
 feasts in such phrases as : 
 
 "Their nectar smack'd of hemlock on the lips, 
 Their rich ambrosia tasted aconite"" . . . 
 
 and there are only a few such allusions in all the 
 poems of Tennyson, although he does, of course, 
 often refer to drinking and feasting without tell- 
 
 "Demeter and Persephone — v. 6. 
 13 
 
ino- us any thing about the satisfyingness of the 
 taste, whatever it may l)e. 
 
 The Sense of Smell. 
 
 It is through this sense — smell — so-called "un- 
 aesthetic" — that Tennyson is able to give his 
 readers pleasure in the "Fragrant gloom of for- 
 eign churches",' "that reverendest smell on 
 earth," as Howells so admirably described it. 
 .\.s one travels through the country he is sensitive 
 to the "Smell of new-mown hay",° to the "fra- 
 grant dew",' or the damp dank odor of the 
 ^wamp, and the "sweet-smelling lanes".'' With 
 Tennyson we smell "the fragrant glistening 
 deeps."' And as we read on in this poem, the 
 freshness of nature is scented in the lines : 
 
 "All round about the fragrant marge 
 In order, eastern flowers large. 
 
 "Maud— Part I-XIX : 5. 
 
 'The Owl — "When merry milk-maids click the 
 latch. 
 
 And rarely smells the new-mown hay" . 
 ''Oenone — v. 6. 
 "The Brook — v. 4. 
 
 'Recollections of Arabian Nights^v. 2. 
 14 
 
Some drooping low their crimson bells 
 Half-closed, and others studded wide 
 With disks and tiars, fed the time 
 With odour'" ... 
 
 And again in the following lines we enjoy— 
 through the poet's imagination — the delightful 
 odors of an oriental garden : 
 
 "And deep myrrh-thickets blowing round 
 And stately cedars, tamarisks. 
 Thick rosaries of scented thorn, 
 Tall orient shrubs, and obelisks"" 
 
 That all nature appealed to Tennyson we are 
 certain from such allusions as the sweet and 
 "frail perfume of the cuckoo-flower'" or the 
 
 bees 
 
 "Through half-open lattices 
 Coming in the scented breeze 
 
 Who may minister to thee. 
 Summer herself should mini.ster 
 To thee, with fruitage golden-rinded 
 On golden salvers, or it may be 
 Youngest autumn, in a bower. 
 
 "Recollections of Arabian Nights — v. 6. . 
 ""Recollections of Arabian Nights — v. lo. 
 ■"Margaret — v. i. 
 
 IS 
 
"Grape-thickened from the light, and bhnded 
 With many a deep-hued bell-like flower 
 Of fragrant trailers, when the air 
 Sleepeth over all the heaven'" .... 
 
 or to the "amorous, odorous wind" which 
 "Breathes low between the sunset and the 
 moon.'"' 
 
 The poet writes — as he reminisces of his youth 
 —of 
 
 "The smell of violets, hidden in the green, 
 Pour'd back into my empty soul and frame 
 The times when I remember to have been 
 Joyful and free from blame'"' . . . 
 
 ]n the city, on the other hand, there is the 
 more unpleasant, yet interesting and mysterious 
 commingling of odors. There is a poetic appeal 
 in this and Tennyson gives his impression in the 
 lines : 
 
 "The drowsy hours, dispensers of all good, 
 O'er the mute city stole with folded wings, 
 Distilling odors on me as they went 
 To greet their fairer sisters of the East.'"' 
 
 "Eleanore — v. II-III. 
 "Eleanore— V. VIII. 
 'IJream of Fair Women — v. 
 ''The Gardener's Daughter. 
 
 16 
 
Our imagination takes tis back to pastoral 
 scenes when in "Aylmer's Field" we catch a 
 whiff of the 
 
 "soft river-breeze 
 
 Which fann'd the gardens of that rival rose 
 Yet fragrant" . 
 
 or of the gale that wa.s 
 
 "blown about the foliage underneath. 
 And was sated ^vith the innumerable rose."' 
 
 If it were not for this sense of smell, Tennyson 
 c(juld not have gained enjoyment from or have 
 written as he did of the stately palmwoods that 
 "whisper in odorous heights of even",'' or of 
 the rich vapour from the fire roU'd by the wind 
 frnm oft' the plain "far into heaven."'' While 
 in the poem, "Maud," the fragrance of summer 
 is wafted to us in the familiar lines ; 
 
 "Come into the garden, Maud, 
 
 I am here at the gate alone ; 
 
 And the woodbine spices are wafted j^broad, 
 
 And the musk of the rose is blown."" 
 
 "The Princess— III. 
 
 "To Milton — line i6. 
 
 'Translations of Ili:id in blank verse— line 
 
 "Maud— XXII— V. I. 
 
 17 
 
'I'here are also allusions to the rose-sweeten'd 
 air in the "still sweet summer night,"" and to 
 the flowing odor of the spacious air,'" or to the 
 
 . . "morning air, sweet after rain" 
 
 which blew 
 
 "Coolness and moisture and all the smells 
 
 of bud 
 And foliage from the dark and dripping 
 
 woods."' 
 
 Aside from these and a few other allusions 
 and references such as in the "Spinster's Sweet- 
 Arts" to "the stink o' 'is pipe i' the 'ouse" and 
 to "Owd Roa" who "smell'd like a herse a- 
 singeing' " after rescuing Dick from the iire, — 
 Tennyson makes comparatively few allusions to 
 the sense of smell. As seen from the examples 
 cited above, those which have the strongest 
 appeal to him and which make the strongest im- 
 pression on his readers are from Nature. The 
 out-of-doors called him and he knew it in all its 
 moods and caprices. 
 
 'PcUeas and Etarre. 
 'Lovers' Tale — Part I — v. 13. 
 'Lovers' Talc— Part IIL 
 
 18 
 
The sense of smell, though less frequent in 
 occurrence than the senses of sight and sound, 
 is strongly noticeable, nevertheless, throughout 
 this poet's work. He, like Keats, was keen 
 enough to appreciate the value of impressions 
 thus gained, and with his artistic ability has been 
 able to produce in his readers the same sensations 
 which he enjoyed either when actually ex- 
 periencing them or when he allowed his imagin- 
 ation free play. As one often recalls a visit to 
 some hi.storic city, in much the same way do 
 we remember many of Tennyson'.'^ poems be- 
 cause of the strong appeal of such phrases as 
 "a morning air, sweet after rain," or the "fra- 
 grant gloom of foreign churches." 
 
 Thus we may see from these illustrations that 
 the appeal of the senses of touch and smell was 
 stronger than that of taste — and that the appeal 
 in almost every case was through Nature. We 
 may judge, therefore, that Tennyson was a keen 
 observer of the variety of sensations and odors 
 of fragrance one finds if he is in the least inter- 
 ested in the out-door v^orld and in the fairy-like 
 charm of a wood fresh and sparkling from a 
 recent shower, in the enchantment of a garden 
 from which arc wafted rose-sweeten'd breezes, 
 or in the invigorating odor and feeling of a 
 fresh sea-breeze. He too enjoyed the pungent 
 aruma of the ]Mnes, or the peculiar .smell of the 
 19 
 
ocean as the surf rises and falls caressingly on 
 the sandy beach or rages more vigorously on a 
 rugged cliflf. 
 
 20 
 
THE SENSE OF SIGHT 
 
 Tennyson's youth in the countVy at Somersby 
 and on the coast of Lincolnshire, where the long 
 breakers fall and thunder "with a heavy clap 
 and spread in a curdling blanket of seething 
 foam over the level sands," and the observations 
 which he made there gave him the wonderful 
 power to portray Nature in all her whimsical 
 moods and fancies. The lurid glow and blood-red 
 glare of his sunsets are striking in their vivid 
 colorful picturesqueness. All who knew the 
 poet marvelled at his great love and knowledge 
 of Nature; every bird, every flower, every an- 
 imal was familiar to him, and his knowledge of 
 the stars was equal to that of Milton or Dante. 
 
 "Air alta fantasia qui manco possa; 
 Ma gia volgeva il mio disiro e il velle, 
 Si come rota ch' egualmente e mossa, 
 I'Amor che mova il sole e I'altre stelle."° 
 
 ""To the high fantasy here power failed; but al- 
 ready my desire and will were rolled — even as a 
 wheel that moveth equally — by the Love that moves 
 the sun and other stars." — Dante — "Divina" Commedia" 
 — Paradiso-Canto XXXIII— lines I42-I4S- "■• 
 
 21 
 
While Keats, who was a city man, wove bril- 
 liant pictures merely from the suggestion of a 
 "red rag," Tennyson had the experience of the 
 country from which to draw, and his use of 
 colors is a striking characteristic of his work. 
 His fondness for the rich shades is found in such 
 phrases as "rare embroidery of the purple 
 clover", '' "crimson shells"," or 
 
 . . . . arras green and blue 
 Showing a gaudy summer morn"'' . . 
 
 and such lines as he uses to describe Godiva's 
 steed in its rich trappings of "purple blazon'd 
 with armorial gold," or in "Day Dreams" where 
 he writes of the "grapes with bunches red as 
 blood." Again in "The Sleeping Beauty" there 
 is a harmonious picture of richness and color in 
 the passage : 
 
 "She lying on her couch alone 
 Across the purple coverlet, 
 The maiden's jet-black hair has grown, 
 On either side her tranced form 
 
 'A Dirge— V. VI. 
 "The Mermaid — v. III. 
 "'Palace of Art— Sec. I. 
 
"Forth streaming from a braid of pearl : 
 The slumbrous light is rich and warm. 
 And moves not on the rounded curl" . . 
 
 One is continually noticing his artistic word pic- 
 tures of "Laborious orient ivory" or "ambrosial 
 aisles of lime"," or his unique description of 
 Lilia whom he calls a "rosebud set with wilful 
 thorns". In "Tithonus" also we find some 
 ty]iically Tennysonian lines : 
 
 "A whitehair'd shadow roaming like a dream 
 The ever-silent places of the East, 
 Far-folded mists, and gleaming halls of 
 morn." 
 
 "The Princess" is one of the best examples of 
 his profuse use of colors and picturesque por- 
 traits. This poem is a "mine of beautiful images, 
 exquisite pictures"." The descriptive passages 
 are among the poet's best work. In a few gor- 
 geous lines he brings before us the stately pal- 
 ace with its towers and turrets, its corridors 
 and halls, its fountain-sprinkled lawns, its busy 
 
 "The Princess — Prologue. 
 
 "A. C. Benson— "Alfred Tennyson/'--p. 185. 
 
 23 
 
court-yard, its bowery thickets. 
 
 More distinctly Tennysonian than any others, 
 perhaps, are the pictorial poems such as "The 
 Lady of Shallot", "Dream of Fair Women", 
 and "The Palace of Art", which are really little 
 galleries of pictures. For instance, in the first 
 of this group, we have the description of the 
 knight as he "Rode down to Camelot" : 
 
 "All in blue unclouded weather 
 Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle leather, 
 The helmet and the helmet-feather 
 Burn'd like one burning flame together, 
 
 As he rode down to Camelot. 
 /Vs often thro' the purple night, 
 Below the starry clusters bright. 
 Some bearded meteor, trailing light. 
 
 Moves over still Shalott." 
 
 The poet allowed his imagination to rule and he 
 has described the pictures of his fancy. In the 
 "Lady of Shalott" the ai'tist gives such brilliant 
 touches of color as the sun "dazzling thro' the 
 leaves," "the shield that sparkled on the yellow 
 field," and "the gemmy bridle that glitter'd free." 
 But this joyous picture is in direct contrast, to the 
 
 following scene' in ■\*hich ~"' 
 
 24.. 
 
, . "down the river's broad expanse 
 Thro' the noises of the night 
 She floated down to Camelot." 
 
 The subjectivity of Tennyson is noticeable in 
 contrast to the objective character of Browning's 
 poems. Browning generally describes places 
 and people as they are, while Tennyson usually 
 reveals pictures drawn from a fanciful imagin- 
 ination — a series of ideal story-book people . 
 whom he portrays, a series of scenes painted 
 from memory. The subjects of Tennyson's 
 poems are mentally drawn, and it is often the 
 philosophizing of this poet, as to the effect of the 
 world on man's life, which brings more clearly to 
 his readers the aesthetic value of sight and its 
 mental and emotional effect on man. — As with 
 the "Lady of Shalott" only "shadows of the 
 world appear.'' And again in "A Dream of Fair 
 Women", the poet writes 
 
 "I turning saw, throned on a flowery rise, 
 One sitting on a crimson scarf unroll'd ; 
 
 A queen, with swarthy cheeks and bold 
 black eyes. 
 Brow-bound with burning gold." 
 
 "The Palace of Art" is, in title, what the poem 
 
 is in reality— throughout ar.e.ejcquigite pictures 
 
 25. 
 
such as the description of the palace in the 
 evening glow : 
 
 . . "while day sank or mounted higher, 
 The light of aerial gallery, golden-rail'd, 
 Burnt like a fringe of fire. 
 
 Likewise the deep-set windows, stain'd and 
 traced, 
 
 Would seem slow-flaming crimson fires 
 From shadow'd grots of arches interlaced. 
 
 And tipt with frost-like spires." 
 
 The "Recollections of Arabian Nights" is a poem 
 expressive of the luxurious sense of a gorgeous 
 inward picture-gallery, such as only a vivid im- 
 agination may conceive. In this one finds a 
 brilliant scene of oriental splendor : 
 
 "Then stole I up, and trancedly 
 Gazed on the Persian gifl alone. 
 Serene with ardent-lidded eyes 
 Amorous, and lashes like to rays 
 Of darkness, and a brow of pearl 
 Tressed with redolent ebony. 
 In many a dark delicious curl. 
 Flowing beneath her rose-hued zone; 
 The sweetest lady of the time. 
 Well worthy of the. golden prime 
 Of good Harcrun Alraschid." 
 26 
 
Other striking examples of his use of color are 
 such phrases as 
 
 . . . . "Scarlet-mingled woods 
 Glowed for a moment as we past."" 
 
 or in the following description of Queen Gui- 
 nevere : 
 
 "She seemed a part of joyous spring 
 A gown of grass-green silk she wore, 
 Buckled with green clasps before; 
 A light-green tuft of plumes she bore 
 Closed in a golden ring."" 
 
 The "Idylls of the King" has numerous examples 
 of Tennyson's extraordinary skill in sketching 
 broad landscapes very briefly — 
 
 . . . "But Arthur with a hundred spears 
 Rode far, till o'er the illimitable reed. 
 And many a glancing plash and sallowy isle. 
 The wide-wing'd sunset of the misty marsh 
 Glared on a huge machicolated tower" 
 
 "The Voyage— V. XL 
 
 "Sir Lautttelot and .Queep Guinevere — v. 3. 
 
 2> 
 
and also 
 
 "As the crest of some slow-arching wave 
 Heard in dead night along that table-shore, 
 Drops flat, and after the great waters break 
 Whitening for half a league, and thin them- 
 selves, 
 Far over sands marbled with moon and 
 cloud." 
 
 It has been said that the "power which makes 
 Tennyson's Idylls so unique in their beauty is 
 ... his wonderful skill in creating a perfectly 
 real and living scene, — such as always might, and 
 perhaps somewhere does, exist in external 
 Nature"" . . . 
 
 Tennyson recorded briefly the sensatioiis re- 
 ceived, and interpreted them in the language of 
 Nature. He noticed the minutest detail, wild- 
 flowers, foliage, bird-calls, or the effect of wind 
 and rain. But his gift for the imaginative un- 
 derstanding of beauty was pre-eminent. From 
 his visits to the coast he gained impressions of 
 the cliflfs, long reaches of sandy shore, and 
 towering crested green breakers; while the 
 downs, lakes, babbling brooks, or grassy slopes 
 all gave him settings' for his legends and other 
 
 "R. H. Hutton — I/iterijry Essays, . • ■' ' , 
 2% 
 
poems. From his keen observation he was able 
 to paint beautiful descriptions of the sunrise as 
 "an awful rose of dawn,"" or "the scarlet shafts 
 of sunrise.'" 
 
 In "Enoch Arden" is the quaint picture of a 
 .small fishing village on the east coast of England 
 — full of picturesque scenes and gleams of color. 
 The opening lines give the setting : 
 
 "Long lines of cliff breaking have left a 
 
 chasm ; 
 And in the cha.sm are foam and yellow 
 
 sands ; 
 Beyond, red roofs above a narrow wharf 
 In cki.sters ; than a moulder'd church; and 
 
 higher 
 A long street climbs to one tall-tower'd 
 
 mill,— 
 ,Knd high in heaven behind it a gray down 
 With Danish barrows'" . . , 
 
 One can imagine here the fishing-smacks off 
 shore riding calmly at anchor, sails flapping idly 
 in the breeze; while on the beach near the wharf 
 may be seen the nets spread out to dry — some 
 
 "Vision of Sin— Part III. 
 'Enoch .-\rden — v. 41. 
 
 29 
 
of them being over-hauled by grizzled sea-worn 
 "old salts" who jovially tell "yarns" of their 
 experiences. 
 
 His fondness for marine pictures is seen in 
 such poems as "Sea Dreams", and he observed 
 Nature "in a slow, tranquil, and ruminative 
 manner, and had a remarkable faculty for seiz- 
 ing upon the salient feature of a scene."" The 
 following lines paint a picture familiar to many 
 of us: 
 
 "a full tide 
 on the foremost rocks 
 Touching, upjetted in spirits of wild sea- 
 smoke 
 
 and fell 
 In vast cataracts"" 
 
 'A. C. Benson — Alfred Tennyson — p. 210. 
 
 ■■.Sea Dreams — v. 2. 
 
 In a letter to a friend Dickens^once wrote: "I have 
 been reading Tennyson all this morning on the sea- 
 shore. Among other trifling effects, the waters have 
 dried up as they did of old, and shown me all the 
 mermen and mermaids at the boUom of the ocean ; 
 togclher with millions of queer creatures, half fish 
 nnd half fungus, looking down into all manner of 
 coral caves and seaweed Conservatories ; and staring 
 in with ihoif great dull eyes at every open nook and 
 
 30 
 
In this same poein one may see the sails "rosed 
 in the east" and a "long reef of gold," or "a 
 fleet of jewels — Sailing along before a gloomy 
 cloud." 
 
 His extraordinary powers of description have 
 aided him in painting London in all the pic- 
 turesque dismalness of an EngHsh rainy day: 
 
 "The noise of life begins again 
 
 And ghastly thro' the drizzling rain 
 
 < )n t'he bald street breaks the blank dav."" 
 
 loop-hole," 
 
 Tennyson's descriptive power shows the effect of 
 pure suggestion on the imagination. 
 
 "Mr. Pelgrave tells us that it was understood that 
 when he was traveling with Tennyson, if any scene 
 of more than usual beauty met their eyes, he was 
 to withdraw for a few minutes and allow the poet to 
 contemplate it in silence and solitude." 
 
 "1 hear," said Tennyson once, "that there arc 
 larger waves at Bude than at any other place. I must 
 go thither and be alone with God." 
 
 It was his frequent and thoughtful communion with 
 God which no doubt enabled the poet to leave such 
 a poem as "Crossing the Bar" which is among his best 
 works. And the lines, 
 
 "But such a tide as moving seems asleep 
 Too full for sound and foam" . , 
 
 are of "eternal stamp." 
 "In Mcmoriam — Part \'1I — v. 3. 
 
 31 
 
Tennyson was "faithful through his whole life 
 to beauty, writing always of what was worthy 
 of love, of joy, of solemn or happy reverence 
 . . . . The manifestation of these things, 
 his creation of them, for the love and pleasure 
 and veneration of himself and men, was his 
 unbroken delight.'" One sees throughout his 
 work, the poet's powerful imagination, his won- 
 derful appreciation of color, his elaborate de- 
 scriptions of courtly life, and his ability to paint 
 lirilliant or dim word pictures both of man and 
 Nature. 
 
 The bard himself spoke of his "dim mystic 
 sympathies with tree and hill reaching far back 
 into childhood'"' He has descriptions of 
 
 the variety of streams in the island ; 
 
 "A land of streams ! some like a downward 
 
 smoke, 
 Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn'"" .. . 
 
 The power to see beauty and to shape it were his. 
 
 "S. Broooks — Tennyson — His Art and Relation to 
 Modern Life — p. g. 
 "A. C. Benson — Alfred Tennyson — p. 213. 
 "Ixitus-Eaters. 
 
 32 
 
Brooks says of the poet : "He wrote only that 
 of which he loved to write, that which moved 
 him to joy or reverence, that which he thought 
 of good report for its loveliness . . , He 
 saw all the universe of man and Nature and of 
 God in their relation to ineffahle beauty, and that 
 the getting of this pervading essence out of all 
 things, the shaping of it — was the one supreme 
 thing in his art for which he cared.'"" 
 
 His poems of pastoral scenes vibrate with the 
 "caressing air of rural England." His power 
 of expressing vivid thought in a "salient image" 
 is illustrated by the anecdote which Reverend 
 H. Fletcher told of him : During a walk with 
 Mathew Arnold and Tennyson in the Lake 
 country they came to the top of a hill overlook- 
 ing a mountain-pasture where a flock of brown- 
 faced sheep were grazing. Arnold made some 
 far-fetched elaborate comparison. Tennyson 
 answered, "No, it looks like nothing but a great 
 blanket full of fleas." It was this quick wit 
 and sense of humor which made the poet such 
 a charming companion for those who knew him. 
 
 The rare power of giving atmosphere to a 
 poem is forcibly felt in the famous lines describ- 
 
 'S. Brooks—Tennyson, His Art and Relation to 
 Modern Life — pp. 11-13. 
 
 33 
 
ing Enoch's sense of lonely isolation on a desert 
 island : 
 
 "No sail from day to day, but every day 
 The sunrise broken into scarlet shafts 
 Among the palms and ferns and precipices; 
 The blaze upon the waters to the east ; 
 The blaze upon his island overhead ; 
 The blaze upon the waters to the west ; 
 Then the great stars that globed themselve? 
 
 in Heaven. 
 The hollower-bellowing ocean, and again 
 The scarlet shafts of sunrise — -but no sail." 
 
 and again in "Mariana in The South'' where 
 the sleeper, after dreaming of cool breezes and 
 running brooks, wakens to a consciousness of 
 bare desolation — 
 
 "She woke : the babble of the stream 
 Fell, and, without, the steady glare 
 Shrank one sick willow sere and small. 
 The river-bed was dusty-white ; 
 And all the furnace of the light 
 Struck up against the blinding wall." 
 
 This picture may recall familiar sensations to 
 
 any who have been out in a desert country and 
 
 have been forced to remain in the burning hot 
 
 34 
 
sun for hours, when the heat from the sand 
 seems to rise up in an effort to overcome one. 
 
 In "Mariana" we see how a few words can 
 conjure up images of a lonely landscape^ 
 
 "About a stone-cast from the wall 
 A sluice with blaken'd water slept, 
 And o'er it many, round and small. 
 The cluster'd marish-mosses crept. 
 Hard by a poplar shook alway. 
 All silver-green with gnarled hark : 
 h'or leagues no other tree did mark 
 The level waste, the rounding gray." 
 
 The utter desolation of this picture is impressive 
 and one can easily imagine similar scenes in the 
 devasted war-regions of Belgium and France. 
 Could Tennyson have lived at this period, what 
 pictures would his pen have left to posterity ! 
 
 Of the poem, "Maud," one of the best known 
 of his works, Jowett has written: "Mo poem 
 since Shakespeare seems to show equal power of 
 tlie same kind, or equal knowledge of human 
 nature. No modern poem contains more lines 
 that ring in the ears of men. I do not know any 
 verse out of Shakespeare in which the ecstacy 
 of love soars to such a height." \^■hether.we 
 fully agree with this or not, we all acknowledge 
 the exquisite beauty of the lines : 
 35 
 
"A million emeralds break from the ruby- 
 budded lime 
 
 In the little grove where I sit— ah, wherefore 
 cannot I be 
 
 Like things of the seasons gay, like the 
 bountiful season bland, 
 
 When the far-off sail is blown by the breeze 
 of a softer clime 
 
 Half-lost in the liquid azUre bloom of a 
 crescent of-sea, 
 
 The silent sapphire-spangled marriage ring 
 of the land?" 
 
 and the wonder of sunrise in the following ; 
 
 "For a breeze of morning moves, 
 
 And the planet of Love is on high. 
 
 Beginning to faint in the light that she loves 
 
 On a bed of daffodil sky, 
 
 To faint in the light of the sun she loves 
 
 To faint in his light, and to die." 
 
 In his discussion of the poem, Lyall says that 
 "some considerable mental agility is needed to 
 fall in with the rapid changes of mood and mo- 
 tive which succeed each other within the compass 
 of a piece that is too short for the delineation 
 of character; ranging from melodramatic horror 
 in the opening stanzas to passionate and joyous 
 
melodies in the middle part, sinking into a dolor- 
 ous wail, rising into frenzy, and closing with the 
 trumpet note of war." 
 
 Tennyson never forgot that the work of a poet 
 should be and is to convince the world of the 
 power of God over all men and Nature, and of 
 the love and beauty in the world — easily found 
 if one seeks it. "What is always true of beauty 
 is this," says Brooke,' "that, wherever it appears, 
 it awakens love of it which has no return on self, 
 but which bears us out of ourselves ; it stirs 
 either joy or reverence in the heart— and it kin- 
 dles the desire of reproducing it, not that we 
 may exult in our own skill on forming it, but 
 that our reproduction of it may awaken emotions 
 in others similar to those which the original sight 
 of beauty stirred in our own hearts — He whose 
 eyes are steadily fixed on the beautiful, always 
 loves, and is always young." 
 
 Of the early volume of his poems, the "Ode 
 to Memory" is one of the most typical and has 
 some exquisitely original descriptive passages, 
 such as 
 
 "the waterfall 
 
 Which ever sounds and shines 
 
 ■Tennyson, His Art and Relation to Modern Life — 
 pp. 8-10. 
 
 37 
 
A pillar of white light upon the wall 
 Of purple cliffs, aloof descried" . . 
 
 and 
 
 "Long alleys falling down to twilight grots, 
 Or opening upon level plots 
 Of crowded lilies, standing near 
 Purple-spiked lavender." 
 
 The simplicity of Tennyson and the equality 
 of his work from the earlier through to the later 
 poems is noticeable. He has retained the same 
 fineness and the same close-knit characteristic 
 throughout. His material was the same, but as 
 he grew older the pictures, arrangement, inven- 
 tion, and coloring changed, and in his later work 
 the brilliancy of his youth has been subdued and 
 has taken on a more somber hue. 
 
 38 
 
THE SENSE OF HEARING 
 
 The sensitiveness of the poet to the power of 
 music of all kinds or to the many and varied 
 sounds in Nature appeals strongly to readers of 
 Tennyson. The call of the thrush, the booming 
 of a beetle, the humming of the bee, or the bab- 
 ling brook each has its charm for him. The 
 cheerful barking of the collie, the cooing of 
 wood-doves, the shrill hallooes of owlets, the 
 murmur and mourn of water-gnats over the 
 pools in the burn, or on the other hand the peal 
 of the sweet church bells — and his appreciation 
 of their beauty — were a great source of power 
 to the writer. He loved to hear the ''mill-dam 
 rushing down with noise"" and the deep brook 
 groaning beneath the mill. 
 
 His keen perception of harmonies between 
 matter and spirit was the deepest source of 
 power to Tennyson. "The Vision of Sin," for 
 instance, is full of fanciful sounds and "volup- 
 tuous music" as expressed in such lines as : 
 
 "a mellow sound. 
 
 Gathering up from all the lower ground; 
 
 ''Miller's Daughter— v. 7 and 15- 
 39 
 
Narrowing in to where they sat assembled 
 Low voluptuous music winding trembled, 
 Wov'n in circles : 
 
 Then the music touched the gates and died ; 
 Rose again from where it seem'd to fail. 
 Storm'd in orbs of song, a growing gale ; 
 Till thronging in and in, to where they 
 
 waited. 
 As 'twere a hundred-throated nightingale. 
 The strong tempestuous treble throbb'd and 
 
 palpitated ; 
 Ran into its giddiest whirl of sound, 
 
 Till, kill'd with some luxurious agony 
 The nerve dissolving melody 
 Flutter'd headlong from the sky" 
 
 The climax is reached in the lines : 
 
 "As 'twere a hundred-throated nightingale," 
 
 To any who have heard the great symphonies of 
 Beethoven, Chopin, and the other masters, this 
 galaxy of music might well fit in with the inter- 
 pretations and scenes we imagine as we listen 
 to the orchestral rendition of these master-pieces 
 in harmony. 
 
 40 
 
In the following passage" in contrast to the 
 above — we find the expression of delight of the 
 impressionable boy in sounds of dawn — the 
 morning song of the birds, a song expressive of 
 the happiness of youth, and the anxious bleating 
 of lambs : 
 
 "Pour round my ears the livelong bleat 
 Of the thick-fleeced sheep from wattled 
 
 folds. 
 Upon the ridged wolds, 
 When the first matin-song hath waken'd 
 
 loud 
 Over the dewy earth forlorn" . . . 
 
 Another picture of dawn is found in the lines : 
 
 "I heard no sound where I stood 
 But the rivulet on from the lawn 
 Running down to my own dark wood; 
 Or the voice of the long sea-wave as it 
 
 swell'd 
 Now and then in the dim-gray dawn"." 
 
 This is in contrast to the lively freshness of the 
 sound of "bugle breezes" blowing "reveillee to 
 
 'Ode to Memory — v. IV. 
 "Maud. 
 
 41 
 
the breaking nioni." 
 
 And in the following apostrophe to morning 
 we feel the mood of the writer : 
 
 "Risest thou thus, dim dawn, again. 
 And howlest, issuing out of night, 
 With blasts that blow the poplar whitfi. 
 And lash with storm the streaming pane."" 
 
 This expresses the great grief and keen loss 
 which Tennyson experienced with the death of 
 his friend, Hallam, these lines being written on 
 the first anniversary of his death. The deep 
 sorrow of the poet and his thoughts on the 
 Unknown are felt in this poem perhaps more 
 than in any other. His many moods are dis- 
 closed in such lines as 
 
 "And all the phantom, Nature, stands — 
 
 With all the music in her tone, 
 
 A hollow echo of my own, — 
 
 A hollow form with empty hands." — 
 
 This and similar passages are thoroughly at- 
 mospheric and suggestive in their imagery. 
 Throughout the poems, natural sounds are found 
 to be symbolic of moods — "Tears, Idle Tears" 
 
 "In Memoriam. 
 
 42 
 
is one of tlie most familiar of these instances. 
 
 "All, sad and strange as in dark summer 
 
 dawns 
 The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds 
 To dying ears" 
 
 Each image is a "'symbol charged with feeling." 
 Not only does it suggest the mood of the author 
 at the time he wrote, but the song of the birds 
 at dawn will always mean more to us after read- 
 ing the lines. We gain new spiritual associations 
 through Nature. Through Nature we realize a 
 Higher Power Who is responsible for all the 
 wonders which we hear and see — such as the 
 "dead claps of thunder," "the living roar" of the 
 sea, or the light of the North around which 
 
 "A belt, it seem'd, of luminous vapor, lay. 
 
 And ever in it a low musical note 
 
 Swell'd up and died; and, as it swell'd a 
 
 ridge 
 Of breaker issued from the belt, and still 
 Grew with the growing note, and when the 
 
 note 
 Had reached a thunderous fulness, on those 
 
 cliffs 
 Broke, mixt with awful light ("ther same 
 
 as that - ■ ■ ' 
 
 43 
 
Living within the belt) whereby she saw 
 That all those lines of cliffs were cliffs no 
 
 . . . And then the great ridge drew, 
 Lessening to the lessening music, back, 
 And past into the belt and swell'd again 
 Slowly to music:'" 
 
 Through this whole poem the impression of the 
 many sounds is strong — and there are such 
 striking lines as 
 
 "but if there were 
 
 A music harmonizing our wild cries. 
 Sphere-music such as that you dream'd 
 
 about, 
 Why, that would make our passions far too 
 
 like 
 The discords dear to the musician. No — 
 One shriek of hate would jar all the hymns 
 
 of heaven : 
 True Devils with no ear, they howl in tune 
 With nothing but the Devil !" 
 
 The ghostlike atmosphere of "The Sisters" is 
 gained by means of such words as "howling," 
 
 "Sea Dreams. 
 
 44 
 
"roaring," "raging," "raving," which show the 
 wierd power of the wind. And again in the fa- 
 miliar lines of "In Memoriam" do we feel the 
 hollow reverberations 
 
 "Like echoes in sepulchral halls 
 As drop by drop the water falls 
 In vaults and catacombs"- ■ 
 
 and the awful strength of the elements expressed 
 in the passage which also discloses his own 
 thoughts ; 
 
 "Tonight the winds begin to rise 
 And roar from yonder drooping day ; 
 The last red leaf is whirl'd away, 
 The rooks arc blown about the skies ; 
 
 The forest crack'd, the water curl'd, 
 The cattle huddled on the lea ; 
 And wildly dash'd on tower and tree 
 The sunbeam strikes along the world ! 
 
 t scarce could brook the strain and stir 
 
 That makes the barren branches loud,"— - 
 
 Tennyson is said by some critics to be the 
 45 
 
greatest word-painter among the English poets. 
 His task has been accompUshed in the lyrical 
 sphere and his power lies in his artistic use of 
 words by means of which he places before the 
 imagination the most subtle movements of the 
 reader's consciousness. In this he satisfies the 
 law of art as defined by Aristotle: "Poetry has 
 sprung from two causes, each of them a thing 
 inherent in human nature. The first is the habit 
 of imitation ; for to imitate is instinctive with 
 mankind ; and man — learns at first by imitation. 
 Secondly, all men take a natural pleasure in the 
 products of imitation — a pleasure to which the 
 facts of experience bear witness. . . To im- 
 itate, then, is natural in us as men; just as our 
 seurfe of musical harmony and our sense of 
 rhythm are natural"" — The lyric poet can "show 
 the very age and body of the time his form and 
 pressure," if he can not "hold the mirror up to 
 Nature." He makes himself felt by touching the 
 emotions and sentiments of society — and no- 
 \vhere have these emotions and sentiments been 
 better expressed in harmony, dignity, and repose, 
 than in "In Memoriam." Aristotle's feeling that 
 the motion of the spirit which impels the artist 
 to put his own idea into his imitation of Nature 
 
 "Lane Cooper — .A.ristolIe on the Art of Poetry— 
 p. 10. 
 
 46 
 
and which justifies the artistic imitation oi what 
 ought to be, is founded on the fact that all in- 
 dividuals are fundamentally alike and that it is 
 the duty of the artist to know the imaginative 
 expectations of men as such. 
 
 In all of the poems there is a metrical richness 
 which is typically Tennysonian. Benson" wrote 
 of the poet that he was "fond of a certain kind 
 of informal meter, — which he gradually de- 
 serted ; his poems became more strict and reg- 
 ular as his artistic sense grew. . . These ex- 
 periments of Tennyson were suggested to him 
 not by musical time, but by the irregular and 
 natural beat of homely things, the ticking of 
 clocks, the thud of oars in row-locks, the clang 
 and clink of hammers, the rolling of wheels, the 
 purring of cat.-i. the thin song of kettles — all the 
 \\'orld is full of rhythmical noises ; and the 
 dreaming ear of Tennyson seems to have been 
 pecularly sensitive to such things." 
 
 The stcry of Maud is told in a series of ex- 
 f|uisite lyrics and in it the subtle influence of 
 sound — and sight — -is markedly noticeable. "All 
 poetry," says Lyall, "may be said to make its 
 primary appeal to the ear."" Tennyson's use 
 of various sounds is especially characteristic of 
 
 "Alfred Tennyson — p. 159. 
 ■■.Mfrcd Tennyson — p. 93. 
 
 47 
 
tlii^ poem in siich lines as: 
 
 "Listening now to the tide in its broad-flung 
 
 shipwrecking roar, 
 X'ow to the scream of a madden'd beach 
 
 dragg'd down by the wave,"" — 
 
 or his description of the maid as she sang, with 
 all the abandon of light happy freedom" 
 
 "In the meadow under the Hall! 
 
 She is singing an air that is known to me, 
 
 A passionate ballad gallant and gay, 
 
 A martial song like a trumpet's call ! 
 
 Singing alone in the morning of life, 
 
 hi the happy morning of life and of May, 
 
 Singing of men that in battle array, 
 
 Ready in heart and ready in hand, 
 
 March with banner and bugle and fife 
 
 To the death, for th'Bir native land. 
 
 iMaud with her exquisite face, 
 And wild voice pealing up to the sunny sky, 
 And feet like sunny gems on an English 
 green. 
 
 -Maud— Pari I— Sec, III. 
 ""Section V, 
 
 48 
 
Maud in the light of her youth and grace, 
 Singing of Death, and of Honour that can- 
 not die,"" 
 
 or his description of the mysterious noises of a 
 lonely empty house 
 
 "half-hid in the gleaming wood. 
 Where I hear the dead at midday moan, 
 And the shrieking rush of the wainscot 
 
 mouse. 
 And my own sad name in corners cried, 
 Where the shiver of dancing leaves is 
 
 thrown 
 •About its echoing chambers wide,''"' 
 
 The different moods of the poet and the atmos- 
 phere oi lonesomeness one feels through all the 
 poem and he gains his effects by his thoughtful 
 expressive descriptions in passages similar to the 
 following: 
 
 "Is that enchanted moan only the swell 
 Of the long waves that roll in yonder bay? 
 And hark the clock within the silver knell 
 Of twelve sweet hours"'' 
 
 "Section V — v, i and 2. 
 ''Same — Section VI. — v. 8. 
 'Same— Sec. XVIII— v. VIII. 
 49 
 
or again in the phrase,- "noiseless music of the 
 night," or in the hopelessness of the lines : 
 
 "my heart is a handful of dust. 
 And the wheels go over my head, 
 And bones are shaken with pain, 
 For into a shallow grave they are thrust, 
 Only a yard beneath the street, 
 And the hoofs of the horses beat, beat. 
 The hoofs of the horses beat, 
 Beat into my scalp and my brain, 
 With never an end to the stream of passing 
 
 feet. 
 Driving, hurrying, marrying, burying. 
 Clamour and rumble, and ringing and clat- 
 ter, 
 And here beneath it is all as bad. 
 For I thought the dead had peace, but it is 
 
 not so; 
 To have no peace in the grave, is that not 
 
 sad? 
 But up and down and to and fro. 
 Ever about me the dead men go; 
 And then to hear a dead man chatter 
 Is enough to drive one mad." 
 
 Tennyson possessed the power of giving reality 
 
 and spirit to simple incidents and objects. The 
 
 solitude of the moated grange is felt as with 
 
 50 
 
Mariana we hear the bhie fly as it sings "i' the 
 pane" and the mouse that "behind the mouldered 
 wainscot shrieked." And again we can imagine 
 with the poet that 
 
 "Old footsteps trod the upper floors, 
 Old voices called her from without !" 
 
 and we hear with him 
 
 "The sparrows chirrup on the roof, 
 The slow clock ticking, and the sound 
 Which to the wooing wind aloof 
 The poplar made" . ^ 
 
 In contrast to the lonely solitude expressed in 
 the above passage we find in Boadicea, "a mag- 
 nificent cataract of rhythmical sound." In the 
 last stanza is a forceful striking picture of 
 Roman life as we see 
 
 . . "the Queen Boadicea, standing loftily 
 
 charioted. 
 Brandishing in her hand a dart and rolling 
 
 glances lioness-like, 
 Yell'd and shriek'd between her daughters 
 
 in her fierce volubility. 
 Till her people all around the royal chariot 
 agitated, 
 
 51 
 
Madly dash'd the darts together, writhing 
 
 barbarous lineaments, 
 Made the noise of frosty woodlands, when 
 
 they shiver in January, 
 Roar'd as when the roaring breakers boom 
 
 and blanch on the precipices, 
 Yell'd as when the winds of winter tear an 
 
 oak on a promontory. 
 So the silent colony hearing her tumultous 
 
 adversaries 
 Clash the darts and on the buckler beat 
 
 with rapid unanimous hand, 
 
 Then her pulses at the clamouring of her 
 enemy fainted away." 
 
 In "Prater Ave" Tennyson has given us "one 
 of the most perfect and purest pieces of vowel 
 music in the language, like a low sweet organ 
 prelude, a snatch of magical sound.'" And in 
 the familiar lines of "Break, break, break" the 
 alliteration is the most noticeable : 
 
 "Break, break, break, 
 
 On thy cold gray stones O Sea! 
 
 And I would that my tongue could utter 
 
 The thoughts that arise in me. 
 
 "A. C. Benson — Alfred Tennyson— p. 64. 
 
 52 
 
O well for the fisherman's boy, 
 
 That he shouts with his sister at play! 
 
 well for the sailor lad, 
 
 That he sings in his boat on the bay!" 
 
 And in "The Brook" again do we find the strong 
 appeal of the music of nature to Tennyson : 
 
 "1 chatter over stony ways, 
 in little sharps and trebles, 
 
 1 bubble into eddying bays, 
 I babble on the pebbles. 
 
 1 chatter, chatter, as I flow 
 To join the brimming river 
 
 I murmur under moon and stars 
 
 In brambly wildernesses; 
 I linger by my shingly bars ; 
 
 I loiter round my cresses ;" 
 
 Tennyson's idea of the individual apart from 
 society and his communion with and contempla- 
 tion of Nature are found in the following 
 passages from the "Palace of Art" : 
 
 "No nightingale dejightetb to prolong 
 Her low preamble all alone 
 53 
 
More than my soul to hear her echo'd song 
 Throb thro' the ribbed stone; 
 
 Singing and murmuring in her feastful 
 mirth, 
 
 Joyful to feel herself alive, 
 Lord over Nature, Lord of the visible earth. 
 
 Lord of the senses five; 
 
 Communing with herself ; 'all these are mine 
 
 And let the world have peace or wars, 
 'Tis one to me.' 
 
 "I take possession of man's mind and deed, 
 I care not what the sects may brawl, 
 
 I sit as God holding to no form or creed, 
 But contemplating all." 
 
 This, I think, may be regarded also as Tenny- 
 son's general attitude toward Nature, and his ap- 
 preciation of the strong appeal to the soul of man 
 through the varied music of Nature. Cheney 
 has written of the poet:" "melody, marvellous 
 melody, and harmony of utterance; illumination, 
 the last for charm of art, the occasional accent 
 beyond the reach of art — ^the gifts of voice — 
 all this must be found in a great poet, it is all 
 
 "The Golden Guess— p... 178. 
 54' 
 
fcund in Tennyson." 
 
 Sweetness of melody and richness of harmony 
 are the most sensuous of this poet's character- 
 istics. In 1844 Henry wrote of him: "Perhaps 
 the first spell cast by Mr. Tennyson, the master 
 of many spells, he cast upon the ear. His power 
 as a lyrical versifier is remarkable. The meas- 
 ures flow softly or roll nobly to his pen. — He 
 will write you a poem with nothing in it except 
 music, and as if its music were everything, it 
 shall charm your soul. Be this said, not in re- 
 proach, — but in honour of him and of the 
 English language, for the learned sweetness of 
 his numbers."" 
 
 Tennyson's sympathetic temperament and his 
 appreciative observation of all that was beautiful 
 and interesting in the world about him made it 
 possible for him to express his thoughts on the 
 wonders and mysteries that continually appear. 
 His poetic instinct and his keen sense of rhythm 
 enabled him to make fine distinctions between 
 sounds such as a "wind with full voice" which 
 "swept bellowing" and the low moaning of the 
 wind ; or the happy laughter of a babbling brook 
 and the sullen thunder of a raging sea; or, on 
 the other hand, the sighs of a passing wind and 
 the lark which "becomes a sightless song." These 
 
 "A New- Spirit of The- Age— p,-. 12 
 
 55. 
 
sounds of Nature and the sounds of revelry or 
 of happy singing youth were alike musical to 
 the {X)etic ear of this lyric poet. 
 
 From the foregoing facts one may readily see 
 the appeal of the different senses in Tennyson. 
 It has been interesting to note the immediacy 
 and greater material effect of taste and touch, — 
 the unaesthetic senses, — in contrast to the aes- 
 thetic and more intellectual senses of sight and 
 sound ; while the sense of smell has a peculiar 
 middle ground, and has its aesthetic value also. 
 It is through these aesthetic senses that the poet 
 has gained an appreciation for the scenic beau- 
 ties of Nature, as well as for melodious sounds 
 whether of water, or songs of birds, or of instru- 
 ments plaj'^ed by man. He has never been sur- 
 passed as a painter of pastoral scenes of Eng- 
 
 NoTE : In the actual number of allusions to each 
 sense, I have found that there are in Tennyson's 
 poems approximately only five direct references to the 
 sense of taste as such, although there are innumerable 
 allusions to eating, drinking, banqueting, etc. And the 
 sense of touch is referred to directly only thirty-two 
 times, but indirectly the appeal of this sense is strong 
 in its allusions to the effect of the elements on man's 
 thoughts and feelings, — as the touch of wind or of the 
 spray from breakers dashing against the rocks. Al- 
 lusions to the other three senses are much more 
 frequent. In one hundred thirty-five of the poems 
 there is a predominance of allusions to sound; in fifty- 
 eight a predominance of allusions to the sense of sight; 
 and in thirty-three a predominance of allusions to the 
 sense of smell. 
 
 56 
 
land. The truth to Nature, which is so charac- 
 teristic of his work, has scarcely been equalled 
 by other writers. His work has a tone of color 
 and a feeling of warmth, and in his depicting of 
 Nature he has been faithful in his sweetness 
 and freshness. He has adhered to what is true 
 in the scene he portrays — through the means of 
 the emotions relating to the subject in hand. 
 As Holmes said of his contemporary's work, 
 "Jewels five words long, many of them a good 
 deal longer, sparkle in our memory." 
 
 All the joys of sense-experience which were 
 so vivid and vital to this poet, were greatly en- 
 hanced by his exceptional power of sublimating 
 that experience through the processes of his 
 imagination and through his power to combine 
 poetical music — melodious words — with poetical 
 picture-drawing. Melody is especially charac- 
 teristic of his work and appeals strongly as we 
 read the poems. His wonderful power of 
 placing bef or€ us the pictures of his imagination, 
 and his reflective nature led him to the subject- 
 matter of philosophy of which the aesthetic na- 
 ture is one of the main sources with its ideals the 
 sublime and the beautiful. This aesthetic mood 
 leads to a recognition of a Supreme Reality — a 
 realization of absolute beauty. Tennyson, I 
 think, hoped by means of his art to help his 
 fellow men, for quoting George Sand, he once 
 57 
 
wrote: "L'art pour art est un vain mot; I'art 
 pour le vrai, l'art pour le beau et le bon, voila 
 la religion que je cherche."" 
 
 In this he accomplished his purpose. Ten- 
 nyson's poetry and the philosophy embodied in 
 it encourage his readers to interpret his ideas 
 from their own point of view and their expe- 
 rience,'' to carry on in their imaginative thoughts 
 the pictures or images which he has drawn — to 
 create for themselves, to visualize, and bring into 
 being long-dormant ideas which have been wait- 
 ing for some higher power to waken and stim- 
 ulate them to a supreme purpose." Tennyson's 
 power then lies in this ability to stir in his read- 
 ers thoughts and emotions which might have 
 remained unrealized and which aid in lifting 
 them to a higher plane and a broader under- 
 standing of Nature and Man. 
 
 Tennyson was continually striving toward a 
 better understanding of life, to overcome the 
 
 "Memoir— y. II— p. 92 — note. 
 
 ''Carlisle once wrote : "The works of a man, bury 
 them under what guano^mountains . . . you will, 
 do not perish, can not perish. What of Heroism, 
 what of Eternal light was in a Man and in his life, 
 is with very great exactness added to the Eternities ; 
 remains forever a new divine portion of the Sum of 
 Things." 
 
 "As Christopher Morley says, "Books are the de- 
 positories..of the .hainan spirit, ..which -is the only thing; 
 in. this* world. .that eadijres.". . 
 
 '""" " "" -.-■-■-jg.---.- •- .•-■•■• -- 
 
doubt which he felt, especially at the death of 
 his friend, Henry Hallam. He has shown by 
 his artistic sense of the melodious and beautiful, 
 and his realization of the divine power or force 
 exerting itself through the wind, rain, sea-breeze, 
 pungent odor of the pines or balsam, his great 
 faith in the Higher Spirit, and his firm belief 
 in a Supreme Reality. He has felt the Hand of 
 God in all about him and in all his work one 
 feels to a great extent the inspiration which he 
 gained through his silent communion with him- 
 self in his solitary musings in the forest, beside 
 the stream, or on the beach. His noble character 
 is revealed through the poems, and whatever his 
 own thoughts may have been while writing, he 
 has given us an inspiration which only a poet 
 with his noble and almost divine character could 
 give. 
 
 In summing up, then, we may say that Ten- 
 nyson was 
 
 '"musical, tremulous, impressional, 
 Alive to gentle influence 
 
 Of earth and air and sky, 
 And kindred to the spirit touch 
 
 Of man's or maiden's eye." 
 
 It was these gentle influences which made him 
 
 a vital expression of the Time Spirit. This 
 
 59. 
 
through him was transformed into the Human 
 Spirit which is — in its highest expression — con- 
 tinually seeking that Divine Spirit toward which 
 all our thoughts and hopes trend. It is this 
 Spirit which Tennyson reveals with all the vision 
 of a Seer. 
 
 FINIS 
 
 60 
 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 Churton Collins — Early Poems of Alfred Ten- 
 nyson— 1 832- 1 833 . 
 R. H. Home — A New Spirit of the Age — v. II- 
 
 1844. 
 R. H. Hutton— Literary Essays— 1888. 
 J. V. Cheney — The Golden Guess — 1892. 
 B. Bosanquet — History of Aesthetic^l892. 
 Arthur Balfour — Foundations of Belief — 1895. 
 Hallam Tennyson — Alfred Lord Tennyson — A 
 
 Memoir— 1897. 
 G. E. Saintsbury — Corrected Impressions — 1899. 
 L. E. Gates — Studies and Appreciations — 1900. 
 W. J. Courthope — -Life in Poetry — Law in Taste 
 
 —1901. 
 E. H. Sneath— The Mind of Tennyson— 1901. 
 S. Brooke — Tennyson, His Art and Relation to 
 
 Modern Life— 1906. 
 E. H. Briggs — The Poetry and Philosophy of 
 
 Tennyson — A Handbook of Six Lectures 
 
 —1906. 
 A. C. Benson — Alfred Tennyson — 1907.. 
 W. M. Payne — Greater English Poets of the 
 
 19th Century— 1907. 
 Sir A. Lyall — Alfred Tennyson — 1907. 
 G. K. Chesterton— Varied Types— 1909. 
 More — Shelburne Essays — 1910. 
 61 
 
Lane Cooper — Aristotle on the Art of Poetry- 
 
 1913. 
 B. Bosanquet — Three Lectures on Aesthetic- 
 
 1915. 
 
 62