Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
England: Vols. I–IV. 1876–79.
To The Rev. F. D. Maurice
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson (18091892)C
Godfather, come and see your boy:
Your presence will be sun in winter,
Making the little one leap for joy.
Who give the Fiend himself his due,
Should eighty thousand college-councils
Thunder ‘Anathema,’ friend, at you;
At you, so careful of the right,
Yet one lay-hearth would give you welcome
(Take it and come) to the Isle of Wight;
I watch the twilight falling brown
All round a careless-ordered garden
Close to the ridge of a noble down.
But honest talk and wholesome wine,
And only hear the magpie gossip
Garrulous under a roof of pine:
To break the blast of winter, stand;
And further on, the hoary Channel
Tumbles a breaker on chalk and sand;
Some ship of battle slowly creep,
And on through zones of light and shadow
Glimmer away to the lonely deep,
Which made a selfish war begin;
Dispute the claims, arrange the chances;
Emperor, Ottoman, which shall win:
Shall lash all Europe into blood;
Till you should turn to dearer matters,
Dear to the man that is dear to God;
How mend the dwellings, of the poor;
How gain in life, as life advances,
Valor and charity more and more.
Is hoar with rime, or spongy-wet;
But when the wreath of March has blossomed,
Crocus, anemone, violet,
For those are few we hold as dear;
Nor pay but one, but come for many,
Many and many a happy year.