Ulysses
ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON
About the Author:
Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809 - 1892) was an English poet. He was the Poet Laureate during much of Queen Victoria's reign. Tennyson's early poetry, with its medievalism and powerful visual imagery, was a major influence on the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. Tennyson focused on short lyrics, such as 'Break, Break, Break', 'The Charge of the Light Brigade', among the most notable ones. Much of his verse was based on classical mythological themes, such as 'Ulysses' and 'The Lotus Eaters'. One of his most famous literary works, 'In Memoriam A.H.H.' was written to commemorate his friend Arthur Hallam.
About the poem:
Ulysses was written in 1833 and was published in 1842. It is a popular example of the dramatic monologue. The mythical hero Ulysses describes his restlessness and discontent upon returning to his kingdom, Ithaca, after his numerous far-ranging voyages. Despite returning home in his old age, Ulysses yearns to be on the sea and explore new territories again. He is not overjoyed at his reunion with his wife Penelope and his son Telemachus. Ulysses is determined to transcend his age and his environment by travelling again. He does not want to be restricted by the mundane duties of his kingdom. The poem celebrates the unyielding desire for knowledge and experience even in the face of mortality.
It little profits that an idle' king, By this still hearth², among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole Unequal laws unto a savage race, That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy'd Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those That loved me, and alone, on shore, and when Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades Vext the dim sea: I am become a name; For always roaming with a hungry heart Much have I seen and known; cities of men And manners, climates, councils, governments, Myself not least, but honour'd of them all; And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy. I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades For ever and forever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use! As tho' to breathe were life! Life piled on life Were all too little, and of one to me Little remains: but every hour is saved From that eternal silence, something more, A bringer of new things; and vile it were For some three suns to store and hoard myself, And this gray spirit yearning in desire To follow knowledge like a sinking star,Beyond the utmost bound of human thought. This is my son, mine own Telemachus, To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle, -Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil This labour, by slow prudence to make mild A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees Subdue them to the useful and the good. Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere Of common duties, decent not to fail In offices of tenderness, and pay Meet adoration to my household gods, When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.
There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners, Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me-That ever with a frolic welcome took The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed Free hearts, free foreheads-you and I are old; Old age hath yet his honour and his toil; Death closes all: but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks: The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, 'T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho' We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.