'Lucretius' by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
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Lucilla, wedded to Lucretius, found
Her master cold; for when the morning flush
Of passion and the first embrace had died
Between them, tho' he loved her none the less,
Yet often when the woman heard his foot
Return from pacings in the field, and ran
To greet him with a kiss, the master took
Small notice, or austerely, for his mind
Half buried in some weightier argument,
Or fancy-borne perhaps upon the rise
And long roll of the hexameter -- he past
To turn and ponder those three hundred scrolls
Left by the Teacher, whom he held divine.
She brook'd it not, but wrathful, petulant
Dreaming some rival, sought and found a witch
Who brew'd the philtre which had power, they said
To lead an errant passion home again.
And this, at times, she mingled with his drink,
And this destroy'd him; for the wicked broth
Confused the chemic labor of the blood,
And tickling the brute brain within the man's
Made havoc among those tender cells, and check'd
His power to shape. He loathed himself, and once
After a tempest woke upon a morn
That mock'd him with returning calm, and cried:
"Storm in the night! for thrice I heard the rain
Rushing; and once the flash of a thunderbolt --
Methought I never saw so fierce a fork --
Struck out the streaming mountain-side, and show'd
A riotous confluence of watercourses
Blanching and billowing in a hollow of it,
Where all but yester-eve was dusty-dry.
"Storm, and what dreams, ye holy Gods, what dreams!
For thrice I waken'd after dreams. Perchance
We do but recollect the dreams that come
Just ere the waking. Terrible: for it seem'd
A void was made in Nature, all her bonds
Crack'd; and I saw the flaring atom-streams
And torrents of her myriad universe,
Ruining along the illimitable inane,
Fly on to clash together again, and make
Another and another frame of things
For ever. That was mine, my dream, I knew it --
Of and belonging to me, as the dog
With inward yelp and restless forefoot plies
His function of the woodland; but the next!
I thought that all the blood by Sylla shed
Came driving rainlike down again on earth,
And where it dash'd the reddening meadow, sprang
No dragon warriors from Cadmean teeth,
For these I thought my dream would show to me,
But girls, Hetairai, curious in their art,
Hired animalisms, vile as those that made
The mulberry-faced Dictator's orgies worse
Than aught they fable of the quiet Gods.
And hands they mixt, and yell'd and round me drove
In narrowing circles till I yell'd again
Half-suffocated, and sprang up, and saw --
Was it the first beam of my latest day?
"Then, then, from utter gloom stood out the
The breasts of Helen, and hoveringly a sword
Now over and now under, now direct,
Pointed itself to pierce, but sank down shamed
At all that beauty; and as I stared, a fire,
The fire that left a roofless Ilion,
Shot out of them, and scorch'd me that I woke.
"Is this thy vengeance, holy Venus, thine,
Because I would not one of thine own doves,
Not even a rose, were offered to thee? thine,
Forgetful how my rich proemion makes
Thy glory fly along the Italian field,
In lays that will outlast thy deity?
"Deity? nay, thy worshippers. My tongue
Trips, or I speak profanely. Which of these
Angers thee most, or angers thee at all?
Not if thou be'st of those who, far aloof
From envy, hate and pity, and spite and scorn,
Live the great life which all our greatest fain
Would follow, centred in eternal calm.
"Nay, if thou canst, 0 Goddess, like ourselves
Touch, and be touch'd, then would I cry to thee
To kiss thy Mavors, roll thy tender arms
Round him, and keep him from the lust of blood
That makes a steaming slaughter-house of Rome.
"Ay, but I meant not thee; I meant riot her
Whom all the pines of Ida shook to see
Slide from that quiet heaven of hers, and tempt
The Trojan, while his neatherds were abroad
Nor her that o'er her wounded hunter wept
Her deity false in human-amorous tears;
Nor whom her beardless apple-arbiter
Decided fairest. Rather, O ye Gods,
Poet-like, as the great Sicilian called
Calliope to grace his golden verse --
Ay, and this Kypris also -- did I take
That popular name of thine to shadow forth
The all-generating powers and genial heat
Of Nature, when she strikes thro' the thick blood
Of cattle, and light is large, and lambs are glad
Nosing the mother's udder, and the bird
Makes his heart voice amid the blaze of flowers;
Which things appear the work of mighty Gods.
"The Gods! and if I go my work is left
Unfinish'd -- if I go. The Gods, who haunt
The lucid interspace of world and world,
Where never creeps a cloud, or moves a wind,
Nor ever falls the least white star of mow
Nor ever lowest roll of thunder moans,
Nor sound of human sorrow mounts to mar
Their sacred everlasting calm! and such,
Not all so fine, nor so divine a calm
Not such, nor all unlike it, man may gain
Letting his own life go. The Gods, the Godsl
If all be atoms, how then should the Gods
Being atomic not be dissoluble,
Not follow the great law? My master held
That Gods there are, for all men so believe.
I prest my footsteps into his, and meant
Surely to lead my Memmius in a train
Of fiowery clauses onward to the proof
That Gods there are, and deathless. Meant? I meant?
I have forgotten what I meant, my mind
Stumbles, and all my faculties are lamed.
"Look where another of our Gods, the Sun
Apollo, Delius, or of older use
All-seeing Hyperion -- what you will --
Has mounted yonder; since he never sware,
Except his wrath were wreak'd on wretched man,
That he would only shine among the dead
Hereafter -- tales! for never yet on earth
Could dead flesh creep, or bits of roasting ox
Moan round the spit -- nor knows he what he sees;
King of the East altho' he seem, and girt
With song and flame and fragrance, slowly lifts
His golden feet on those empurpled stairs
That climb into the windy halls of heaven
And here he glances on an eye new-born,
And gets for greeting but a wail of pain;
And here he stays upon a freezing orb
That fain would gaze upon him to the last;
And here upon a yellow eyelid fallen
And closed by those who mourn a friend in vain,
Not thankful that his troubles are no more.
And me, altho' his fire is on my face
Blinding, he sees not, nor at all can tell
Whether I mean this day to end myself.
Or lend an ear to Plato where he says,
That men like soldiers may not quit the post
Allotted by the Gods. But he that holds
The Gods are careless, wherefore need he care
Greatly for them, nor rather plunge at once,
Being troubled, wholly out of sight, and sink
Past earthquake -- ay, and gout and stone, that break
Body toward death, and palsy, death-in-life,
And wretched age -- and worst disease of all,
These prodigies of myriad nakednesses,
And twisted shapes of lust, unspeakable,
Abominable, strangers at my hearth
Not welcome, harpies miring every dish,
The phantom husks of something foully done,
And fleeting thro' the boundless universe,
And blasting the long quiet of my breast
With animal heat and dire insanity?
"How should the mind, except it loved them, clasp
These idols to herself? or do they fly
Now thinner, and now thicker, like the flakes
In a fall of snow, and so press in, perforce
Of multitude, as crowds that in an hour
Of civic tumult jam the doors, and bear
The keepers down, and throng, their rags and the
The basest, far into that council-hall
Where sit the best and stateliest of the land?
³Can I not fling this horror off me again,
Seeing with how great ease Nature can smile
Balmier and nobler from her bath of storm,
At random ravage? and how easily
The mountain there has cast his cloudy slough,
Now towering o'er him in serenest air,
A mountain o'er a mountain, -- ay, and within
All hollow as the hopes and fears of men?
"But who was he that in the garden snared
Picus and Faunus, rustic Gods? a tale
To laugh at -- more to laugh at in myself --
For look! what is it? there? yon arbutus
Totters; a noiseless riot underneath
Strikes through the wood, sets all the tops quivering -- ;
The mountain quickens into Nymph and Faun,
And here an Oread -- how the sun delights
To glance and shift about her slippery sides,
And rosy knees and supple roundedness,
And budded bosom-peaks -- who this way runs
Before the rest! -- a satyr, a satyr, see,
Follows; but him I proved impossible
Twy-natured is no nature. Yet he draws
Nearer and nearer, and I scan him now
Beastlier than any phantom of his kind
That ever butted his rough brother-brute
For lust or lusty blood or provender.
I hate, abhor, spit, sicken at him; and she
Loathes him as well; such a precipitate heel,
Fledged as it were with Mercury's ankle-wing,
Whirls her to me -- ;but will she fling herself
Shameless upon me? Catch her, goatfoot! nay,
Hide, hide them, million-myrtled wilderness,
And cavern-shadowing laurels, hide! do I wish --
What? -- ;that the bush were leafless? or to whelm
All of them in one massacre? O ye Gods
I know you careless, yet, behold, to you
From childly wont and ancient use I call --
I thought I lived securely as yourselves --
No lewdness, narrowing envy, monkey-spite,
No madness of ambition, avarice, none;
No larger feast than under plane or pine
With neighbors laid along the grass, to take
Only such cups as left us friendly-warm,
Affirming each his own philosophy
Nothing to mar the sober majesties
Of settled, sweet, Epicurean life.
But now it seems some unseen monster lays
His vast and filthy hands upon my will,
Wrenching it backward into his, and spoils
My bliss in being; and it was not great,
For save when shutting reasons up in rhythm,
Or Heliconian honey in living words,
To make a truth less harsh, I often grew
Tired of so much within our little life
Or of so little in our little life --
Poor little life that toddles half an hour
Crown'd with a flower or two, and there an end --
And since the nobler pleasure seems to fade,
Why should I, beastlike as I find myself,
Not manlike end myself? -- our privilege -- ;
What beast has heart to do it? And what man
What Roman would be dragg'd in triumph thus?
Not I; not he, who bears one name with her
Whose death-blow struck the dateless doom of kings,
When, brooking not the Tarquin in her veins,
She made her blood in sight of Collatine
And all his peers, flushing the guiltless air,
Spout from the maiden fountain in her heart.
And from it sprang the Commonwealth, which breaks
As I am breaking now!
"And therefore now
Let her, that is the womb and tomb of all
Great Nature, take, and forcing far apart
Those blind beginnings that have made me man,
Dash them anew together at her will
Thro' all her cycles -- into man once more,
Or beast or bird or fish, or opulent flower.
But till this cosmic order everywhere
Shatter'd into one earthquake m one day
Cracks all to pieces, -- and that hour perhaps
Is not so far when momentary man
Shall seem no more a something to himself,
But he, his hopes and hates, his homes and fanes
And even his bones long laid within the grave,
The very sides of the grave itself shall pass,
Vanishing, atom and void, atom and void,
Into the unseen for ever, -- till that hour,
My golden work in which I told a truth
That stays the rolling Ixionian wheel,
And numbs the Fury's ringlet-snake, and plucks
The mortal soul from out immortal hell
Shall stand. Ay, surely; then it fails at last
And perishes as I must, for O Thou
Passionless bride, divine Tranquillity,
Yearn'd after by the wisest of the wise
Who fail to find thee, being as thou art
Without one pleasure and without one pain,
Howbeit I know thou surely must be mine
Or soon or late, yet out of season, thus
I woo thee roughly, for thou carest not
How roughly men may woo thee so they win -- ;
Thus -- thus -- the soul flies out and dies in the air
With that he drove the knife into his side.
She heard him raging, heard him fall, ran in,
Beat breast, tore hair, cried out upon herself
As having fail'd in duty to him, shriek'd
That she but meant to win him back, fell on him
Clasp'd, kiss'd him, wail'd. He answer'd, "Care not thou!
Thy duty? What is duty? Fare thee well!"
Editor 1 Interpretation
Lucretius: A Masterpiece by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
When it comes to the masterpiece that is Lucretius, one cannot help but marvel at the sheer brilliance of Alfred, Lord Tennyson's poetic prowess. Written in 1850, the poem is a vivid portrayal of the life and times of the ancient Roman poet and philosopher Titus Lucretius Carus. Tennyson's poem is a captivating blend of historical accuracy, philosophical insight, and poetic excellence that has stood the test of time.
The Historical Context of Lucretius
Before diving into the poem itself, it is essential to understand the historical context in which Lucretius was written. Tennyson wrote this poem during the Victorian era, a time of social, political, and cultural change in Britain. The Victorian era was characterized by a fascination with the past, particularly the classical world of Greece and Rome. The Romans, in particular, were seen as models of civilization, and Tennyson's interest in Lucretius reflects this admiration.
Lucretius was a Roman poet and philosopher who lived in the first century BC. He is best known for his epic poem, De Rerum Natura (On the Nature of Things), which is a philosophical treatise on the nature of the universe, human existence, and the gods. Lucretius was a follower of the Greek philosopher Epicurus, who believed that happiness and pleasure were the ultimate goals of human life. His poetry was a vehicle for promoting Epicurean philosophy and attacking the prevailing belief in the gods and their meddling in human affairs.
The Poetic Genius of Tennyson
Tennyson's Lucretius is a tour de force of poetic genius. The poem is written in blank verse, which is unrhymed iambic pentameter. This form of poetry allows for a natural flow of language that is both rhythmic and lyrical. Tennyson's use of blank verse is particularly effective in Lucretius, as it allows him to convey the philosophical ideas of Lucretius in a way that is accessible and engaging.
The poem is divided into five books, each of which focuses on a different aspect of Lucretius' life and philosophy. The first book introduces Lucretius and his philosophy, while the second book explores the nature of the universe. The third book delves into the nature of the soul and the fourth book examines the nature of human existence. The final book is a meditation on death and the afterlife.
The Philosophical Ideas of Lucretius
Lucretius' philosophy is based on the idea that the universe is made up of atoms and that everything in the world is composed of these atoms. He believed that the universe was not created by a divine being but rather evolved through natural processes. This concept was revolutionary at the time and challenged the prevailing belief in the gods and their role in the universe.
Tennyson's Lucretius explores these philosophical ideas in a way that is both insightful and engaging. He highlights the importance of reason and science in understanding the world and challenges the idea of divine intervention in human affairs. Tennyson's portrayal of Lucretius is one of a philosopher who is dedicated to the pursuit of truth and knowledge, even in the face of opposition and ridicule.
The Beauty of Tennyson's Imagery
One of the most striking features of Lucretius is Tennyson's use of vivid and evocative imagery. The poem is filled with descriptions of the natural world, which are used to convey the philosophical ideas of Lucretius. From the "purple-stemmed amaranth" to the "waves that curl'd around the lonely shore," Tennyson's imagery is both beautiful and haunting.
This use of imagery is particularly effective in the second book, which explores the nature of the universe. Tennyson's descriptions of the stars and the cosmos are breathtaking and give the reader a sense of the vastness and complexity of the universe. The imagery is so vivid that it is almost as if the reader is transported to another world, one that is both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
The Importance of Lucretius Today
Lucretius remains relevant today, as his philosophy continues to challenge our understanding of the world. His emphasis on reason and science is particularly important in an age where misinformation and superstition are rampant. Tennyson's Lucretius is a timeless masterpiece that reminds us of the importance of intellectual inquiry and the pursuit of truth.
In conclusion, Lucretius is a masterpiece of poetry and philosophy that has stood the test of time. Tennyson's poetic genius is on full display in this epic poem, which explores the life and ideas of the ancient Roman poet and philosopher. The poem is a testament to the power of reason and science and a reminder of the importance of intellectual inquiry in our lives. It is a work of art that should be read and appreciated for generations to come.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
Poetry Lucretius: A Masterpiece of Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Alfred, Lord Tennyson is one of the most celebrated poets of the Victorian era. His works are known for their lyrical beauty, emotional depth, and philosophical insights. Among his many masterpieces, Poetry Lucretius stands out as a remarkable achievement that showcases Tennyson's poetic genius and intellectual prowess.
Poetry Lucretius is a long narrative poem that tells the story of the Roman philosopher and poet, Lucretius, who lived in the first century BC. Lucretius is best known for his epic poem, De Rerum Natura (On the Nature of Things), which expounds on the principles of Epicurean philosophy. Tennyson's poem is a tribute to Lucretius and his ideas, as well as a reflection on the nature of poetry and its role in human life.
The poem begins with a description of Lucretius's life and work, and his dedication to the pursuit of truth and wisdom. Tennyson portrays Lucretius as a solitary figure, who wanders through the natural world, observing its beauty and complexity, and contemplating the mysteries of existence. Lucretius's philosophy is based on the belief that the universe is composed of atoms, which move and combine in infinite ways, creating all the phenomena of the world. He argues that there is no divine intervention or supernatural force that governs the universe, but rather a natural order that can be understood through reason and observation.
Tennyson's poem celebrates Lucretius's vision of the world, and his commitment to the pursuit of knowledge. He portrays Lucretius as a heroic figure, who stands against the superstitions and dogmas of his time, and seeks to liberate humanity from ignorance and fear. Tennyson's admiration for Lucretius is evident in his vivid descriptions of the natural world, which are infused with a sense of wonder and awe. He captures the beauty of the earth, the sky, and the sea, and shows how they are all interconnected, and part of a larger cosmic order.
The poem also explores the nature of poetry, and its relationship to philosophy and science. Tennyson argues that poetry is not just a form of entertainment or decoration, but a powerful tool for understanding the world and ourselves. He suggests that poetry can convey truths that are beyond the reach of reason and logic, and can inspire us to transcend our limitations and connect with the divine.
Tennyson's own poetic style is characterized by its musicality, imagery, and emotional intensity. He uses a variety of poetic devices, such as alliteration, assonance, and rhyme, to create a rich and sonorous language that evokes the beauty and complexity of the natural world. His imagery is vivid and evocative, and he often uses metaphors and similes to compare the physical world to the spiritual realm.
One of the most striking features of Poetry Lucretius is its use of myth and legend to convey philosophical ideas. Tennyson draws on a wide range of classical myths and stories, such as the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, the tale of Prometheus, and the legend of the Golden Age, to explore the themes of love, death, and immortality. He shows how these myths can be interpreted as allegories for the human condition, and how they can inspire us to seek a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world.
In conclusion, Poetry Lucretius is a remarkable achievement that showcases Tennyson's poetic genius and intellectual prowess. It is a tribute to the Roman philosopher and poet, Lucretius, and his ideas, as well as a reflection on the nature of poetry and its role in human life. Tennyson's vivid descriptions of the natural world, his use of myth and legend, and his exploration of the relationship between poetry, philosophy, and science, make this poem a timeless masterpiece that continues to inspire and delight readers today.
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