Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867.
II. On Seeing a Child Blush on His First View of a CorpseCharles Tennyson (18081879)
’T
And I would muse upon a little thing,—
What brought the blush into that infant’s face,
When first confronted with the rueful King?
He boldly came: what made his courage less?
A signal for the heart to beat less free
Are all imperial presences; and he
Was awed by Death’s consummate kingliness,
And by the high and peerless front he bore.
No thought of dying armies crossed the lad;
He feared the stranger, though he knew no more;
Surmising and surprised, but most, afraid;
As Crusoe, wandering on the desert shore,
Saw but an alien footmark, and was sad!