About this time, some of his poetical pieces were printed, but withheld from publication.  It was the original intention for the two friends, Alfred Tennyson and Arthur Hallam, to publish together; but the idea was abandoned.  Such lines as these the young poet addressed to the man who was afterwards to lend interest and immortality to the story of his early loss:—­

     “Alfred, I would that you beheld me now,
     Sitting beneath a mossy, ivied wall
     On a quaint bench, which to that structure old
     Winds an accordant curve.  Above my head
     Dilates immeasurable a wild of leaves,
     Seeming received into the blue expanse
     That vaults this summer noon.  Before me lies
     A lawn of English verdure, smooth, and bright,
     Mottled with fainter hues of early hay,
     Whose fragrance, blended with the rose-perfume
     From that white flowering bush, invites my sense
     To a delicious madness,—­and faint thoughts
     Of childish years are borne into my brain
     By unforgotten ardors waking now. 
     Beyond, a gentle slope leads into shade
     Of mighty trees, to bend whose eminent crown
     Is the prime labor of the pettish winds,
     That now in lighter mood are twirling leaves
     Over my feet, or hurrying butterflies,
     And the gay humming things that summer loves,
     Through the warm air, or altering the bound
     Where yon elm-shadows in majestic line
     Divide dominion with the abundant light.”

And this fine descriptive passage was also written at this period of his life:—­

“The garden trees are busy with the shower
That fell ere sunset:  now methinks they talk,
Lowly and sweetly, as befits the hour,
One to another down the grassy walk. 
Hark! the laburnum from his opening flower
This cheery creeper greets in whisper light,
While the grim fir, rejoicing in the night,
Hoarse mutters to the murmuring sycamore. 
What shall I deem their converse?  Would they hail
The wild gray light that fronts yon massive cloud,
Or the half-bow rising like pillared fire? 
Or are they sighing faintly for desire
That with May dawn their leaves may be o’erflowed,
And dews about their feet may never fail?”

The first college prize for English declamation was awarded to him this year; and his exercise, “The Conduct of the Independent Party during the Civil War,” greatly improved his standing at the University.  Other honors quickly followed his successful essay, and he was chosen to deliver an oration in the College Chapel just before the Christmas vacation.  This was in the year 1831.  He selected as his subject the one eminently congenial to his thought; and his theme, “The Influence of Italian upon English Literature,” was admirably treated.  The oration is before us as we write, and we turn the pages with a fond and loving eye.  We remember,