{"id":2330,"date":"2020-02-13T23:57:02","date_gmt":"2020-02-13T23:57:02","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.destroyphotography.com\/destroyphotography\/?p=2330"},"modified":"2020-02-13T23:57:02","modified_gmt":"2020-02-13T23:57:02","slug":"the-lotus-eaters","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.destroyphotography.com\/destroyphotography\/2020\/02\/13\/the-lotus-eaters\/","title":{"rendered":"The Lotus Eaters"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

\"\"<\/h1>\n

The Lotos-eaters<\/h1>\n<\/div>\n
\n
BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON<\/a><\/span><\/div>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\n
“Courage!” he said, and pointed toward the land,<\/div>\n
“This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon.”<\/div>\n
In the afternoon they came unto a land<\/div>\n
In which it seemed always afternoon.<\/div>\n
All round the coast the languid air did swoon,<\/div>\n
Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.<\/div>\n
Full-faced above the valley stood the moon;<\/div>\n
And like a downward smoke, the slender stream<\/div>\n
Along the cliff to fall and pause and fall did seem.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
A land of streams! some, like a downward smoke,<\/div>\n
Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go;<\/div>\n
And some thro’ wavering lights and shadows broke,<\/div>\n
Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below.<\/div>\n
They saw the gleaming river seaward flow<\/div>\n
From the inner land: far off, three mountain-tops,<\/div>\n
Three silent pinnacles of aged snow,<\/div>\n
Stood sunset-flush’d: and, dew’d with showery drops,<\/div>\n
Up-clomb the shadowy pine above the woven copse.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
The charmed sunset linger’d low adown<\/div>\n
In the red West: thro’ mountain clefts the dale<\/div>\n
Was seen far inland, and the yellow down<\/div>\n
Border’d with palm, and many a winding vale<\/div>\n
And meadow, set with slender galingale;<\/div>\n
A land where all things always seem’d the same!<\/div>\n
And round about the keel with faces pale,<\/div>\n
Dark faces pale against that rosy flame,<\/div>\n
The mild-eyed melancholy Lotos-eaters came.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
Branches they bore of that enchanted stem,<\/div>\n
Laden with flower and fruit, whereof they gave<\/div>\n
To each, but whoso did receive of them,<\/div>\n
And taste, to him the gushing of the wave<\/div>\n
Far far away did seem to mourn and rave<\/div>\n
On alien shores; and if his fellow spake,<\/div>\n
His voice was thin, as voices from the grave;<\/div>\n
And deep-asleep he seem’d, yet all awake,<\/div>\n
And music in his ears his beating heart did make.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
They sat them down upon the yellow sand,<\/div>\n
Between the sun and moon upon the shore;<\/div>\n
And sweet it was to dream of Fatherland,<\/div>\n
Of child, and wife, and slave; but evermore<\/div>\n
Most weary seem’d the sea, weary the oar,<\/div>\n
Weary the wandering fields of barren foam.<\/div>\n
Then some one said, “We will return no more”;<\/div>\n
And all at once they sang, “Our island home<\/div>\n
Is far beyond the wave; we will no longer roam.”<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
CHORIC SONG<\/strong><\/div>\n
I<\/strong><\/div>\n
There is sweet music here that softer falls<\/div>\n
Than petals from blown roses on the grass,<\/div>\n
Or night-dews on still waters between walls<\/div>\n
Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass;<\/div>\n
Music that gentlier on the spirit lies,<\/div>\n
Than tir’d eyelids upon tir’d eyes;<\/div>\n
Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies.<\/div>\n
Here are cool mosses deep,<\/div>\n
And thro’ the moss the ivies creep,<\/div>\n
And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep,<\/div>\n
And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep.”<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
II<\/strong><\/div>\n
Why are we weigh’d upon with heaviness,<\/div>\n
And utterly consumed with sharp distress,<\/div>\n
While all things else have rest from weariness?<\/div>\n
All things have rest: why should we toil alone,<\/div>\n
We only toil, who are the first of things,<\/div>\n
And make perpetual moan,<\/div>\n
Still from one sorrow to another thrown:<\/div>\n
Nor ever fold our wings,<\/div>\n
And cease from wanderings,<\/div>\n
Nor steep our brows in slumber’s holy balm;<\/div>\n
Nor harken what the inner spirit sings,<\/div>\n
“There is no joy but calm!”<\/div>\n
Why should we only toil, the roof and crown of things?<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
III<\/strong><\/div>\n
Lo! in the middle of the wood,<\/div>\n
The folded leaf is woo’d from out the bud<\/div>\n
With winds upon the branch, and there<\/div>\n
Grows green and broad, and takes no care,<\/div>\n
Sun-steep’d at noon, and in the moon<\/div>\n
Nightly dew-fed; and turning yellow<\/div>\n
Falls, and floats adown the air.<\/div>\n
Lo! sweeten’d with the summer light,<\/div>\n
The full-juiced apple, waxing over-mellow,<\/div>\n
Drops in a silent autumn night.<\/div>\n
All its allotted length of days<\/div>\n
The flower ripens in its place,<\/div>\n
Ripens and fades, and falls, and hath no toil,<\/div>\n
Fast-rooted in the fruitful soil.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
IV<\/strong><\/div>\n
Hateful is the dark-blue sky,<\/div>\n
Vaulted o’er the dark-blue sea.<\/div>\n
Death is the end of life; ah, why<\/div>\n
Should life all labour be?<\/div>\n
Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast,<\/div>\n
And in a little while our lips are dumb.<\/div>\n
Let us alone. What is it that will last?<\/div>\n
All things are taken from us, and become<\/div>\n
Portions and parcels of the dreadful past.<\/div>\n
Let us alone. What pleasure can we have<\/div>\n
To war with evil? Is there any peace<\/div>\n
In ever climbing up the climbing wave?<\/div>\n
All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave<\/div>\n
In silence; ripen, fall and cease:<\/div>\n
Give us long rest or death, dark death, or dreamful ease.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
V<\/strong><\/div>\n
How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream,<\/div>\n
With half-shut eyes ever to seem<\/div>\n
Falling asleep in a half-dream!<\/div>\n
To dream and dream, like yonder amber light,<\/div>\n
Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height;<\/div>\n
To hear each other’s whisper’d speech;<\/div>\n
Eating the Lotos day by day,<\/div>\n
To watch the crisping ripples on the beach,<\/div>\n
And tender curving lines of creamy spray;<\/div>\n
To lend our hearts and spirits wholly<\/div>\n
To the influence of mild-minded melancholy;<\/div>\n
To muse and brood and live again in memory,<\/div>\n
With those old faces of our infancy<\/div>\n
Heap’d over with a mound of grass,<\/div>\n
Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of brass!<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
VI<\/strong><\/div>\n
Dear is the memory of our wedded lives,<\/div>\n
And dear the last embraces of our wives<\/div>\n
And their warm tears: but all hath suffer’d change:<\/div>\n
For surely now our household hearths are cold,<\/div>\n
Our sons inherit us: our looks are strange:<\/div>\n
And we should come like ghosts to trouble joy.<\/div>\n
Or else the island princes over-bold<\/div>\n
Have eat our substance, and the minstrel sings<\/div>\n
Before them of the ten years’ war in Troy,<\/div>\n
And our great deeds, as half-forgotten things.<\/div>\n
Is there confusion in the little isle?<\/div>\n
Let what is broken so remain.<\/div>\n
The Gods are hard to reconcile:<\/div>\n
‘Tis hard to settle order once again.<\/div>\n
There is<\/em> confusion worse than death,<\/div>\n
Trouble on trouble, pain on pain,<\/div>\n
Long labour unto aged breath,<\/div>\n
Sore task to hearts worn out by many wars<\/div>\n
And eyes grown dim with gazing on the pilot-stars.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
VII<\/strong><\/div>\n
But, propt on beds of amaranth and moly,<\/div>\n
How sweet (while warm airs lull us, blowing lowly)<\/div>\n
With half-dropt eyelid still,<\/div>\n
Beneath a heaven dark and holy,<\/div>\n
To watch the long bright river drawing slowly<\/div>\n
His waters from the purple hill\u2014<\/div>\n
To hear the dewy echoes calling<\/div>\n
From cave to cave thro’ the thick-twined vine\u2014<\/div>\n
To watch the emerald-colour’d water falling<\/div>\n
Thro’ many a wov’n acanthus-wreath divine!<\/div>\n
Only to hear and see the far-off sparkling brine,<\/div>\n
Only to hear were sweet, stretch’d out beneath the pine.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
VIII<\/strong><\/div>\n
The Lotos blooms below the barren peak:<\/div>\n
The Lotos blows by every winding creek:<\/div>\n
All day the wind breathes low with mellower tone:<\/div>\n
Thro’ every hollow cave and alley lone<\/div>\n
Round and round the spicy downs the yellow Lotos-dust is blown.<\/div>\n
We have had enough of action, and of motion we,<\/div>\n
Roll’d to starboard, roll’d to larboard, when the surge was seething free,<\/div>\n
Where the wallowing monster spouted his foam-fountains in the sea.<\/div>\n
Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind,<\/div>\n
In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined<\/div>\n
On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind.<\/div>\n
For they lie beside their nectar, and the bolts are hurl’d<\/div>\n
Far below them in the valleys, and the clouds are lightly curl’d<\/div>\n
Round their golden houses, girdled with the gleaming world:<\/div>\n
Where they smile in secret, looking over wasted lands,<\/div>\n
Blight and famine, plague and earthquake, roaring deeps and fiery sands,<\/div>\n
Clanging fights, and flaming towns, and sinking ships, and praying hands.<\/div>\n
But they smile, they find a music centred in a doleful song<\/div>\n
Steaming up, a lamentation and an ancient tale of wrong,<\/div>\n
Like a tale of little meaning tho’ the words are strong;<\/div>\n
Chanted from an ill-used race of men that cleave the soil,<\/div>\n
Sow the seed, and reap the harvest with enduring toil,<\/div>\n
Storing yearly little dues of wheat, and wine and oil;<\/div>\n
Till they perish and they suffer\u2014some, ’tis whisper’d\u2014down in hell<\/div>\n
Suffer endless anguish, others in Elysian valleys dwell,<\/div>\n
Resting weary limbs at last on beds of asphodel.<\/div>\n
Surely, surely, slumber is more sweet than toil, the shore<\/div>\n
Than labour in the deep mid-ocean, wind and wave and oar;<\/div>\n
O, rest ye, brother mariners, we will not wander more.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The Lotos-eaters BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON “Courage!” he said, and pointed toward the land, “This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon.” In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a weary dream. Full-faced above […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2330","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6L1xp-BA","jetpack-related-posts":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.destroyphotography.com\/destroyphotography\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2330","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.destroyphotography.com\/destroyphotography\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.destroyphotography.com\/destroyphotography\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.destroyphotography.com\/destroyphotography\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.destroyphotography.com\/destroyphotography\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2330"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.destroyphotography.com\/destroyphotography\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2330\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2333,"href":"https:\/\/www.destroyphotography.com\/destroyphotography\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2330\/revisions\/2333"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.destroyphotography.com\/destroyphotography\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2330"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.destroyphotography.com\/destroyphotography\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2330"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.destroyphotography.com\/destroyphotography\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2330"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}