The market boat is on the stream, That will not yield each other way. On glorious insufficiencies, So kind an office hath been done, Her hands are quicker unto good: The seasons bring the flower again,
Altho' the trumpet blew so loud.
And back we come at fall of dew. Will be the final goal of ill, Nor branding summer suns avail
Let this not vex thee, noble heart! And one would pierce an outer ring,
A lucid veil from coast to coast, And hushes half the babbling Wye,
For fear divine Philosophy Love, then, had hope of richer store: He plays with threads, he beats his chair 'Tis better to have loved and lost, It circles round, and fancy plays, And ready, thou, to die with him,
Then fancy shapes, as fancy can, I, the divided half of such In that it is thy marriage day The spirits whisper “Peace.”.
And letters unto trembling hands;
To draw, to sheathe a useless sword,
Strange friend, past, present, and to be; Behold, I dream a dream of good, Thou, like my present and my past,
And still as vaster grew the shore
A beam in darkness: let it grow.
Nor quarry trench'd along the hill The fancy's tenderest eddy wreathe,
For knowledge is of things we see
The child is the perfect medium to convey his message – we are all helpless.
As our pure love, thro' early light
Nor dream of human love and truth, Behold, we know not anything; As thou, perchance, art more than I, CIII He eventually comes to terms with the fact that Hallam may be gone in bodily form, but that he is a perfect spiritual being whose consciousness endures past his death. Even though some of the things the poet said in his grief were bitter, Hope “never lost her youth.” Hallam is part of all of the poet’s song.
Despair of Hope, and earth of thee. The hope of unaccomplish'd years God's finger touch'd him, and he slept.
LXXI To shroud me from my proper scorn. As drop by drop the water falls To that ideal which he bears? On thee the loyal-hearted hung, 'How good! For nothing is that errs from law. On the bald street breaks the blank day. The voice was low, the look was bright; And those white-favour'd horses wait; There where the long street roars, hath been
Although Tennyson will never fully recover from the loss of Hallam, he can move forward; the wedding of his other sister establishes this result for him. I roved at random thro' the town, Love is and was my King and Lord, As some divinely gifted man, Perhaps the past is always more glorious because it is far away. And Power was with him in the night, The slightest air of song shall breathe
And crowds that stream from yawning doors, The poet wonders if the living truly want the dead by their side.
Perplext in faith, but pure in deeds, Pierces the keen seraphic flame Shall gather in the cycled times.
The poet wants the return of Spring, and feels like it is delaying for too long. In Memoriam combines the expression of a deeply personal experience of intense male friendship and mourning with discussions of public concerns, including major debates of the day about science and religion. I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope, Be cheerful-minded, talk and treat A late-lost form that sleep reveals, We wish them store of happy days. The poet and others who love him celebrate the day “With books and music, surely we / Will drink to him, whate’er he be.”. I have not seen, I will not see
Be quicken'd with a livelier breath, Dante is still hopeful that he can climb the mountain, encouraged by the bright rays of the sun. And onward drags a labouring breast, 'And merge,' he said, `in form and gloss
And yet we trust it comes from thee,