. The poetic and dramatic works of Alfred lord Tennyson. Their sleeping silver thro the hills; And touch with shade the bridal doors,With tender gloom the roof, thewall • And breaking let the splendor fallTo spangle all the happy shores By which they rest, and ocean sounds,And, star and system rolling past,A soul shall draw from out the vast And strike his being into bounds, And, moved thro life of lower phase,Result in man, be born and think,And act and love, a closer link Betwixt us and the crowning race Of those that, eye to eye, shall lookOn knowledge ; under whose com-mandIs Earth and Ear
. The poetic and dramatic works of Alfred lord Tennyson. Their sleeping silver thro the hills; And touch with shade the bridal doors,With tender gloom the roof, thewall • And breaking let the splendor fallTo spangle all the happy shores By which they rest, and ocean sounds,And, star and system rolling past,A soul shall draw from out the vast And strike his being into bounds, And, moved thro life of lower phase,Result in man, be born and think,And act and love, a closer link Betwixt us and the crowning race Of those that, eye to eye, shall lookOn knowledge ; under whose com-mandIs Earth and Earths, and in theirhandIs Nature like an open book; No longer half-akin to brute,For all we thought and loved and did,And hoped, and sufferd, is but seed Of what in them is flower and fruit; Whereof the man that with me trodThis planet was a noble typeAppearing ere the times were ripe, That friend of mine who lives in God, That God, which ever lives and loves,One God, one law, one element,And one far-off divine event, To which the whole creation I hate the dreadful hollow behind the little wood MAUD AND OTHER POEMS MAUD ; A MONODRAMA PART I I hate the dreadful hollow behind the little wood;Its lips in the field above are dabbled with blood-red red-ribbd ledges drip with a silent horror of blood,And Echo there, whatever is askdher, answers Death. For there in the ghastly pit long since a body was who had given me life — O father ! O God ! was it well ? —Mangled, and flattend, and crushd, and dinted into the ground ;There yet lies the rock that fell with him when he fell. inDid he fling himself down? whoknows ? for a vast speculationhad faild, MAUD 261 And ever he mutterd and maddend,and ever wannd with despair, 10 And out he walkd when the wind likea broken worldling waild, And the flying gold of the ruind wood-lands drove thro the air. IV I remember the time, for the roots of my hair were stirrdBy a shuffled step, by a dead weight traiPd, by a wh
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