|
|
Classic and Contemporary Poetry
MEMORY, by ALFRED TENNYSON Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Memory! Dear enchanter! Last Line: Along the dun deep streaming. Alternate Author Name(s): Tennyson, Lord Alfred; Tennyson, 1st Baron; Tennyson Of Aldworth And Farringford, Baron Subject(s): Memory | |||
MEMORY! dear enchanter! Why bring back to view Dreams of youth, which banter All that o'er was true? Why present before me Thoughts of years gone by, Which, like shadows o'er me, Dim in distance fly? Days of youth, now shaded By twilight of long years, Flowers of youth, now faded, Though bathed in sorrow's tears: Thoughts of youth, which waken Mournful feelings now, Fruits which time hath shaken From off their parent bough: Memory! why, oh why, This fond heart consuming, Shew me years gone by, When those hopes were blooming? Hopes which now are parted, Hopes which then I priz'd, Which this world, cold-hearted, Ne'er has realiz'd? I knew not then its strife, I knew not then its rancour; In every rose of life, Alas! there lurks a canker. Round every palm-tree, springing With bright fruit in the waste, A mournful asp is clinging, Which sours it to our taste. O'er every fountain, pouring Its waters thro' the wild, Which man imbibes, adoring, And deems it undefil'd, The poison-shrubs are dropping Their dark dews day by day; And Care is hourly lopping Our greenest boughs away! Ah! these are thoughts that grieve me Then, when others rest. Memory! why deceive me By thy visions blest? Why lift the veil, dividing The brilliant courts of spring -- Where gilded shapes are gliding In fairy colouring -- From age's frosty mansion, So cheerless and so chill? Why bid the bleak expansion Of past life meet us still? Where's now that peace of mind O'er youth's pure bosom stealing, So sweet and so refin'd, So exquisite a feeling? Where 's now the heart exulting In pleasure's buoyant sense, And gaiety, resulting From conscious innocence? All, all have past and fled, And left me lorn and lonely; All those dear hopes are dead, Remembrance wakes them only! I stand like some lone tower Of former days remaining, Within whose place of power The midnight owl is plaining; -- Like oak-tree old and grey, Whose trunk with age is failing, Thro' whose dark boughs for aye The winter winds are wailing. Thus, Memory, thus thy light O'er this worn soul is gleaming, Like some far fire at night Along the dun deep streaming. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MEMORY AS A HEARING AID by TONY HOAGLAND THE SAME QUESTION by JOHN HOLLANDER FORGET HOW TO REMEMBER HOW TO FORGET by JOHN HOLLANDER ON THAT SIDE by LAWRENCE JOSEPH MEMORY OF A PORCH by DONALD JUSTICE BEYOND THE HUNTING WOODS by DONALD JUSTICE A CHARACTER by ALFRED TENNYSON |
| |