Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. V. Browning to Rupert Brooke
Alfred, Lord Tennyson (18091892)To Virgil
Ilion’s lofty temples robed in fire,
Ilion falling, Rome arising,
wars, and filial faith, and Dido’s pyre;
more than he that sang the Works and Days,
All the chosen coin of fancy
flashing out from many a golden phrase;
tilth and vineyard, hive and horse and herd;
All the charm of all the Muses
often flowering in a lonely word;
piping underneath his beechen bowers;
Poet of the poet-satyr
whom the laughing shepherd bound with flowers;
in the blissful years again to be,
Summers of the snakeless meadow,
unlaborious earth and oarless sea;
Nature moved by Universal Mind;
Thou majestic in thy sadness
at the doubtful doom of human kind;
star that gildest yet this phantom shore;
Golden branch amid the shadows,
kings and realms that pass to rise no more;
fallen every purple Cæsar’s dome—
Tho’ thine ocean-roll of rhythm
sound for ever of Imperial Rome—
and the Rome of freemen holds her place,
I, from out the Northern Island
sunder’d once from all the human race,
I that loved thee since my day began,
Wielder of the stateliest measure
ever moulded by the lips of man.