And may there be no sadness of farewell,
      When I embark;
    For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place
      The flood may bear me far,
    I hope to see my Pilot face to face
      When I have crost the bar.

WORKS.  At the outset of our study of Tennyson’s works it may be well to record two things, by way of suggestion.  First, Tennyson’s poetry is not so much to be studied as to be read and appreciated; he is a poet to have open on one’s table, and to enjoy as one enjoys his daily exercise.  And second, we should by all means begin to get acquainted with Tennyson in the days of our youth.  Unlike Browning, who is generally appreciated by more mature minds, Tennyson is for enjoyment, for inspiration, rather than for instruction.  Only youth can fully appreciate him; and youth, unfortunately, except in a few rare, beautiful cases, is something which does not dwell with us long after our school days.  The secret of poetry, especially of Tennyson’s poetry, is to be eternally young, and, like Adam in Paradise, to find every morning a new world, fresh, wonderful, inspiring, as if just from the hands of God.

Except by the student, eager to understand the whoje range of poetry in this age, Tennyson’s earlier poems and his later dramas may well be omitted.  Opinions vary about both; but the general judgment seems to be that the earlier poems show too much of Byron’s influence, and their crudeness suffers by comparison with the exquisitely finished work of Tennyson’s middle life.  Of dramatic works he wrote seven, his great ambition being to present a large part of the history of England in a series of dramas. Becket was one of the best of these works and met with considerable favor on the stage; but, like all the others, it indicates that Tennyson lacked the dramatic power and the humor necessary for a successful playwright.

Among the remaining poems there is such a wide variety that every reader must be left largely to follow his own delightful choice.[235] Of the Poems of 1842 we have already mentioned those best worth reading. The Princess, a Medley (1847), a long poem of over three thousand lines of blank verse, is Tennyson’s answer to the question of woman’s rights and woman’s sphere, which was then, as in our own day, strongly agitating the public mind.  In this poem a baby finally solves the problem which philosophers have pondered ever since men began to think connectedly about human society.  A few exquisite songs, like “Tears, Idle Tears,” “Bugle Song,” and “Sweet and Low,” form the most delightful part of this poem, which in general is hardly up to the standard of the poet’s later work. Maud (1855) is what is called in literature a monodrama, telling the story of a lover who passes from morbidness to ecstasy, then to anger and murder, followed by insanity and recovery.  This was Tennyson’s favorite, and among his friends he read aloud from it more than from any other poem.  Perhaps if we could hear Tennyson read it, we should appreciate it better; but, on the whole, it seems overwrought and melodramatic.  Even its lyrics, like “Come into the Garden, Maud,” which make this work a favorite with young lovers, are characterized by “prettiness” rather than by beauty or strength.