In Victorian England (1832-1901), Alfred, Lord Tennyson was the most popular poet of his time. During the 20th century, however, his reputation fluctuated. T. S. Eliot at first saw his poems as lacking in genuine feeling, but later acknowledged Tennyson's greatness and influence. The poet W. H. Auden was even harsher in his criticism. He remarked that Tennyson was "undoubtedly the stupidest" poet. Perhaps readers today would find Tennyson's poems too old fashioned or too irrelevant for them. Reading complex syntax and vocabulary might confuse and annoy them concluding that reading Tennyson is undoubtedly a waste of time; time to be better spent on social media. But none of these reactions would be correct.
Tennyson wrote some of the greatest poetry in the English language and his works equal or surpass all of his 19th century peers. Only a handful of 20th century poets equal Tennyson's poetic prowess---Yeats, Eliot, Stevens, Neruda, Auden. The poets who have more recently (1950-2023) donned the mantles of national poet laureates appear to wear such honors "like a giant's robe/Upon a dwarfish thief," when their verse is set side by side with Tennyson's.
In his poems, the reader encounters lyrical beauty and psychological depth as he explores a variety of subjects such as the death of his closest friend, his ambivalence regarding religious faith, and his reflections on immortality. A good poem to start with is his poem "Ulysses." Extending the Greek myth as told by Homer, Tennyson imagines Ulysses old and past his physical prime. Despite being diminished by age, Ulysses refuses to resign himself to living his remaining years idlily administering "laws unto a savage race." He chooses instead to search for more adventures before the force of time saps what remains of his vitality.
There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail;
There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toiled, and wrought, and thought with me-
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free heart, 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,
'Tis 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;
And see he great Achilles, whom we knew.
Though much is taken, much abides; and though
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.
Ulysses has spent twenty years away from home. Ten years fighting the Trojans at Troy and ten years wandering the Mediterranean trying to reach home. In both the Iliad and The Odyssey, Ulysses had faced seemingly insurmountable danger and death, time and again. His reputation is famous, as he himself proclaims, "I am become a name." But fame and the twenty years he longed to return to his wife, son and city cannot compensate for the uninspiring life of a mere politician. Even though his age should counsel and convince him to accept time's unambiguous reality, enterprises of great pitch beckon him to refuse what more sensible but less daring men would undertake.
"Ulysses" is a good place to begin, if one wants to experience Tennyson's poetry. Then, one should take time to read more of his poems, in order "To follow knowledge like a sinking star,/Beyond the utmost bound of human thought." If one is put off initially by the poems, the willingness to "strive, to seek to find, and not to yield" will more enrich and reward those who persevere.
You can read full poem here:
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