Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
VI. LoversThe Sleeping Beauty
Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892)Y
She lying on her couch alone,
Across the purple coverlet,
The maiden’s jet-black hair has grown;
On either side her trancèd form
Forth streaming from a braid of pearl;
The slumberous light is rich and warm,
And moves not on the rounded curl.
Unto her limbs itself doth mould,
Languidly ever; and amid
Her full black ringlets, downward rolled,
Glows forth each softly-shadowed arm,
With bracelets of the diamond bright.
Her constant beauty doth inform
Stillness with love, and day with light.
In palace chambers far apart.
The fragrant tresses are not stirred
That lie upon her charmèd heart.
She sleeps; on either hand upswells
The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest:
She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells
A perfect form in perfect rest.
To those that seek them issue forth;
For love in sequel works with fate,
And draws the veil from hidden worth.
He travels far from other skies,
His mantle glitters on the rocks—
A fairy prince, with joyful eyes,
And lighter-footed than the fox.
That strove in other days to pass,
Are withered in the thorny close,
Or scattered blanching in the grass.
He gazes on the silent dead:
“They perished in their daring deeds.”
This proverb flashes through his head:
“The many fail; the one succeeds.”
He breaks the hedge; he enters there;
The color flies into his cheeks;
He trusts to light on something fair;
For all his life the charm did talk
About his path, and hover near
With words of promise in his walk,
And whispered voices in his ear.
The magic music in his heart
Beats quick and quicker, till he find
The quiet chamber far apart.
His spirit flutters like a lark,
He stoops, to kiss her, on his knee:
“Love, if thy tresses be so dark,
How dark those hidden eyes must be!”
There rose a noise of striking clocks,
And feet that ran, and doors that clapt,
And barking dogs, and crowing cocks;
A fuller light illumined all,
A breeze through all the garden swept,
A sudden hubbub shook the hall,
And sixty feet the fountain leapt.
The butler drank, the steward scrawled,
The fire shot up, the martin flew,
The parrot screamed, the peacock squalled,
The maid and page renewed their strife,
The palace banged, and buzzed and clackt,
And all the long-pent stream of life
Dashed downward in a cataract.
And in his chair himself upreared,
And yawned, and rubbed his face, and spoke,
“By holy rood, a royal beard!
How say you? we have slept, my lords.
My beard has grown into my lap.”
The barons swore, with many words,
’T was but an after-dinner’s nap.
My joints are something stiff or so.
My lord, and shall we pass the bill
I mentioned half an hour ago?”
The chancellor, sedate and vain,
In courteous words returned reply:
But dallied with his golden chain,
And, smiling, put the question by.
And round her waist she felt it fold;
And far across the hills they went
In that new world which is the old.
Across the hills, and far away
Beyond their utmost purple rim,
And deep into the dying day,
The happy princess followed him.
O love, for such another kiss;”
“O wake forever, love,” she hears,
“O love, ’t was such as this and this.”
And o’er them many a sliding star,
And many a merry wind was borne,
And, streamed through many a golden bar,
The twilight melted into morn.
“O happy sleep that lightly fled!”
“O happy kiss, that woke thy sleep!”
“O love, thy kiss would wake the dead!”
And o’er them many a flowing range
Of vapor buoyed the crescent bark;
And, rapt thro’ many a rosy change,
The twilight died into the dark.
And whither goest thou, tell me where?”
“O, seek my father’s court with me,
For there are greater wonders there.”
And o’er the hills, and far away
Beyond their utmost purple rim,
Beyond the night, across the day,
Thro’ all the world she followed him.