Scanning: Sharine Leung (Centre for Computing in the Humanities)
Screen Design (Electronic Edition): Sian Meikle (University of The following individuals share copyright for the work that went Together with the editors, the Department ofĮnglish (University of Toronto), and the University of Toronto Press, Come, my friends,ĥ7 'T is not too late to seek a newer world.ĥ8 Push off, and sitting well in order smiteĥ9 The sounding furrows for my purpose holdsĦ0 To sail beyond the sunset, and the bathsĦ1 Of all the western stars, until I die.Ħ2 It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:Ħ3 It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,Ħ4 And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.Ħ5 Tho' much is taken, much abides and tho'Ħ6 We are not now that strength which in old daysĦ7 Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are Ħ9 Made weak by time and fate, but strong in willħ0 To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Ulysses by alfred lord tennyson free#
My mariners,Ĥ6 Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me-Ĥ8 The thunder and the sunshine, and opposedĤ9 Free hearts, free foreheads-you and I are old ĥ0 Old age hath yet his honour and his toil ĥ1 Death closes all: but something ere the end,ĥ2 Some work of noble note, may yet be done,ĥ3 Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.ĥ4 The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:ĥ5 The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deepĥ6 Moans round with many voices. He works his work, I mine.Ĥ4 There lies the port the vessel puffs her sail:Ĥ5 There gloom the dark, broad seas. McLuhan) are keyed to line numbers.Ģ By this still hearth, among these barren crags,ģ Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and doleĥ That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.Ħ I cannot rest from travel: I will drinkħ Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy'dĨ Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with thoseĩ That loved me, and alone, on shore, and whenġ0 Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyadesġ2 For always roaming with a hungry heartġ3 Much have I seen and known cities of menġ4 And manners, climates, councils, governments,ġ5 Myself not least, but honour'd of them all ġ6 And drunk delight of battle with my peers,ġ7 Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.ġ9 Yet all experience is an arch wherethro'Ģ0 Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fadesĢ2 How dull it is to pause, to make an end,Ģ3 To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!Ģ4 As tho' to breathe were life! Life piled on lifeĢ6 Little remains: but every hour is savedĢ7 From that eternal silence, something more,Ģ8 A bringer of new things and vile it wereĢ9 For some three suns to store and hoard myself,ģ0 And this gray spirit yearning in desireģ1 To follow knowledge like a sinking star,ģ2 Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.ģ4 To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,-ģ5 Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfilģ6 This labour, by slow prudence to make mildģ7 A rugged people, and thro' soft degreesģ8 Subdue them to the useful and the good.ģ9 Most blameless is he, centred in the sphereĤ3 When I am gone. Lancashire Publisher, Web Development Group, Inf.
Alfred lord Tennyson, Works (London: Macmillan, 1891).
PR 5550 E42a Victoria College Library (Toronto). Original Text: Alfred lord Tennyson, Poems, 2 vols.Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892) Ulysses ALFRED LORD TENNYSON (1809-1892) ULYSSES This entry was posted on, in General, Poetry Project, Poets and poetry. Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods. Some work of noble note, may yet be done, I’m getting older myself, and I can sympathize with this version of Odysseus, who wants “life piled on life.” Life piled on lifeįrom that eternal silence, something more,Ī bringer of new things and vile it wereįor some three suns to store and hoard myself,īeyond the utmost bound of human thought. To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!Īs though to breathe were life. Gleams that untravelled world, whose margin fades Yet all experience is an arch wherethrough Myself not least, but honoured of them all Īnd drunk delight of battle with my peers, Much have I seen and known cities of menĪnd manners, climates, councils, governments, That loved me, and alone on shore, and when Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed This poem by Tennyson features an aged Ulysses (Odysseus), who is still too restless and adventurous to stay put in Ithaca. You may have a grievance, but you do not have grief, and grievances are for petitions, not poetry.” Old School by Tobias Wolff Form is everything, without it you’ve got nothing but a stub-toed cry, sincere maybe, for what its worth, but with no depth or carry. “I am thinking of Achilles’ grief, he said.
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