To E. Fitzgerald: Tiresias Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABCDCDEFEFGHGHHIHI JHJHGHGHHGHGKLKLMHMH NONOPHPHQRQRGGGG G HSTUGGVGWGX YHHHHKDHZVA2GIB2C2HG HKW GD2HE2GGF2GG2HHHH2GG I2HJ2K2GXL2HGHDGHM2H KHNN2HGO2TP2GQ2KR2R2 KGGS2DHHR2DO2GHZGQ2T 2NGGGU2QGV2W2X2GY2HG G DL2GV2| OLD FITZ who from your suburb grange | A |
| Where once I tarried for a while | B |
| Glance at the wheeling orb of change | A |
| And greet it with a kindly smile | B |
| Whom yet I see as there you sit | C |
| Beneath your sheltering garden tree | D |
| And watch your doves about you flit | C |
| And plant on shoulder hand and knee | D |
| Or on your head their rosy feet | E |
| As if they knew your diet spares | F |
| Whatever moved in that full sheet | E |
| Let down to Peter at his prayers | F |
| Who live on milk and meal and grass | G |
| And once for ten long weeks I tried | H |
| Your table of Pythagoras | G |
| And seem'd at first a thing enskied | H |
| As Shakespeare has it airy light | H |
| To float above the ways of men | I |
| Then fell from that half spiritual height | H |
| Chill'd till I tasted flesh again | I |
| One night when earth was winter b ack | J |
| And all the heavens flash'd in frost | H |
| And on me half asleep came back | J |
| That wholesome heat the blood had lost | H |
| And set me climbing icy capes | G |
| And glaciers over which there roll'd | H |
| To meet me long arm'd vines with grapes | G |
| Of Eshcol hugeness for the cold | H |
| Without and warmth within me wrought | H |
| To mould the dream but none can say | G |
| That Lenten fare makes Lenten thought | H |
| Who reads your golden Eastern lay | G |
| Than which I know no version done | K |
| In English more divinely well | L |
| A planet equal to the sun | K |
| Which cast it that large infidel | L |
| Your Omar and your Omar drew | M |
| Full handed plaudits from our best | H |
| In modern letters and from two | M |
| Old friends outvaluing all the rest | H |
| Two voices heard on earth no more | N |
| But we old friends are still alive | O |
| And I am nearing seventy four | N |
| While you have touch'd at seventy five | O |
| And so I send a birthday line | P |
| Of greeting and my son who dipt | H |
| In some forgotten book of mine | P |
| With sallow scraps of manuscript | H |
| And dating many a year ago | Q |
| Has hit on this which you will take | R |
| My Fitz and welcome as I know | Q |
| Less for its own than for the sake | R |
| Of one recalling gracious times | G |
| When in our younger London days | G |
| You found some merit in my rhymes | G |
| And I more pleasure in your praise | G |
| - | |
| TIRESIAS | G |
| - | |
| I WISH I were as in the years of old | H |
| While yet the blessed daylight made itself | S |
| Ruddy thro' both the roofs of sight and woke | T |
| These eyes now dull but then so keen to seek | U |
| The meanings ambush'd under all they saw | G |
| The flight of birds the flame of sacrifice | G |
| What omens may foreshadow fate to man | V |
| And woman and the secret of the Gods | G |
| My son the Gods despite of human prayer | W |
| Are slower to forgive than human kings | G |
| The great God Ares burns in anger still | X |
| - | |
| Against the guiltless heirs of him from Tyre | Y |
| Our Cadmus out of whom thou art who found | H |
| Beside the springs of Dirce smote and still'd | H |
| Thro' all its folds the multitudinous beast | H |
| The dragon which our trembling fathers call'd | H |
| The God's own son | K |
| A tale that told to me | D |
| When but thine age by age as winter white | H |
| As mine is now amazed but made me yearn | Z |
| For larger glimpses of that more than man | V |
| Which rolls the heavens and lifts and lays the deep | A2 |
| Yet loves and hates with mortal hates and loves | G |
| And moves unseen among the ways of men | I |
| Then in my wanderings all the lands that lie | B2 |
| Subjected to the Heliconian ridge | C2 |
| Have heard this footstep fall altho' my wont | H |
| Was more to scale the highest of the heights | G |
| With some strange hope to see the nearer God | H |
| One naked peak the sister of the Sun | K |
| Would climb from out the dark and linger there | W |
| - | |
| - | |
| To silver all the valleys with her shafts | G |
| There once but long ago five fold thy term | D2 |
| Of years I lay the winds were dead for heat | H |
| The noonday crag made the hand burn and sick | E2 |
| For shadow not one bush was near I rose | G |
| Following a torrent till its myriad falls | G |
| Found silence in the hollows underneath | F2 |
| There in a secret olive glade I saw | G |
| Pallas Athene climbing from the bath | G2 |
| In anger yet one glittering foot disturb'd | H |
| The lucid well one snowy knee was prest | H |
| Against the margin flowers a dreadful light | H |
| Came from her golden hair her golden helm | H2 |
| And all her golden armor on the grass | G |
| And from her virgin breast and virgin eyes | G |
| Remaining fixt on mine till mine grew dark | I2 |
| For ever and I heard a voice that said | H |
| Henceforth be blind for thou hast seen too much | J2 |
| And speak the truth that no man may believe | K2 |
| Son in the hidden world of sight that lives | G |
| Behind this darkness I behold her still | X |
| Beyond all work of those who carve the stone | L2 |
| Beyond all dreams of Godlike womanhood | H |
| Ineffable beauty out of whom at a glance | G |
| And as it were perforce upon me flash'd | H |
| The power of prophesying but to me | D |
| No power so chain'd and coupled with the curse | G |
| Of blindness and their unbelief who heard | H |
| And heard not when I spake of famine plague | M2 |
| Shrine shattering earthquake fire flood thunderbolt | H |
| And angers of the Gods for evil done | K |
| And expiation lack'd no power on Fate | H |
| Theirs or mine own for when the crowd would roar | N |
| For blood for war whose issue was their doom | N2 |
| To cast wise words among the multitude | H |
| Was fiinging fruit to lions nor in hours | G |
| Of civil outbreak when I knew the twain | O2 |
| Would each waste each and bring on both the yoke | T |
| Of stronger states was mine the voice to curb | P2 |
| The madness of our cities and their kings | G |
| Who ever turn'd upon his heel to hear | Q2 |
| My warning that the tyranny of one | K |
| Was prelude to the tyranny of all | R2 |
| My counsel that the tyranny of all | R2 |
| Led backward to the tyranny of one | K |
| This power hath work'd no good to aught that lives | G |
| And these blind hands were useless in their wars | G |
| O therefore that the unfulfill'd desire | S2 |
| The grief for ever born from griefs to be | D |
| The boundless yearning of the prophet's heart | H |
| Could that stand forth and like a statue rear'd | H |
| To some great citizen wim all praise from all | R2 |
| Who past it saying That was he | D |
| In vain | O2 |
| Virtue must shape itself im deed and those | G |
| Whom weakness or necessity have cramp'd | H |
| Withm themselves immerging each his urn | Z |
| In his own well draws solace as he may | G |
| Menceceus thou hast eyes and I can hear | Q2 |
| Too plainly what full tides of onset sap | T2 |
| Our seven high gates and what a weight of war | N |
| Rides on those ringing axlesl jingle of bits | G |
| Shouts arrows tramp of the horn footed horse | G |
| That grind the glebe to powder Stony showers | G |
| Of that ear stunning hail of Ares crash | U2 |
| Along the sounding walls Above below | Q |
| Shock after shock the song built towers and gates | G |
| Reel bruised and butted with the shuddering | V2 |
| War thunder of iron rams and from within | W2 |
| The city comes a murmur void of joy | X2 |
| Lest she be taken captive maidens wives | G |
| And mothers with their babblers of the dawn | Y2 |
| And oldest age in shadow from the night | H |
| Falling about their shrines before their Gods | G |
| And wailing Save us | G |
| - | |
| And they wail to thee | D |
| These eyeless eyes that cannot see thine own | L2 |
| See this that only in thy virtue lies | G |
| The saving | V2 |
Alfred Lord Tennyson
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
About To E. Fitzgerald: Tiresias
To E. Fitzgerald: Tiresias is a poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
Write your comment about To E. Fitzgerald: Tiresias poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Best Poems of Alfred Lord Tennyson
