Page 669

Alfred Tennyson Tennyson. (1809–1892) (continued)

6736

Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might;
Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.

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6737

He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force,
Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.

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6738

This is truth the poet sings,
That a sorrow’s crown of sorrow is remembering happier things. 1

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6739

Like a dog, he hunts in dreams.

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6740

With a little hoard of maxims preaching down a daughter’s heart.

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6741

But the jingling of the guinea helps the hurt that Honour feels.

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6742

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

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6743

Yet I doubt not through the ages one increasing purpose runs,
And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns.

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6744

Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.

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6745

I will take some savage woman, she shall rear my dusky race.

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6746

I, the heir of all the ages, in the foremost files of time.

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6747

Let the great world spin forever down the ringing grooves of change.

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Note 1.
See Longfellow, page 648. [back]