Cauteretz is a beautiful valley in the French Pyrenees. The visit of Tennyson and Arthur Hallam to the place, here commemorated, took place in 1830. ́ The date of the second visit has sometimes been given as 1862, but Arthur Hugh Clough's diary, in which he refers to meeting Tennyson there, makes it 1861. Under date of September 1, at Mont Dore-lesBains, he writes: The Tennysons arrived at 6.30 yesterday. Tennyson was here with Arthur Hallam thirty-one years ago, and really finds great pleasure in the place; they stayed here and at Cauteretz. Enone," he said, was written on the inspiration of the Pyrenees, which stood for Ida.' The poet probably wrote 'two and thirty' in the verses for the sake of euphony. I walk'd with one I loved one and thirty years ago' would have offended his sensitive ear.

Sow'd it far and wide
By every town and tower,
Till all the people cried,
Splendid is the flower.'

Read my little fable:

He that runs may read. Most can raise the flowers now

For all have got the seed.

And some are pretty enough,

And some are poor indeed; And now again the people Call it but a weed.

REQUIESCAT

First printed in the 'Enoch Arden' volume, and unaltered.

FAIR is her cottage in its place,

Where yon broad water sweetly, slowly glides.

It sees itself from thatch to base Dream in the sliding tides.

And fairer she, but ah, how soon to die! Her quiet dream of life this hour may

cease.

Her peaceful being slowly passes by To some more perfect peace.

THE SAILOR BOY

First printed in the 'Victoria Regia,' Christmas, 1861 (edited by Miss Emily Faithfull), and afterwards included in the Enoch Arden' volume.

He rose at dawn and, fired with hope,
Shot o'er the seething harbor-bar,
And reach'd the ship and caught the rope,
And whistled to the morning star.

And while he whistled long and loud
He heard a fierce mermaiden cry,
'O boy, tho' thou art young and proud,
I see the place where thou wilt lie.

'The sands and yeasty surges mix
In caves about the dreary bay,
And on thy ribs the limpet sticks,
And in thy heart the scrawl shall play.'

'Fool,' he answer'd, 'death is sure

To those that stay and those that roam, But I will nevermore endure

To sit with empty hands at home.

'My mother clings about my neck,

My sisters crying, "Stay for shame;" My father raves of death and wreck,

They are all to blame, they are all to blame.

On the day that follow'd the day she was wed,

'Whither, O whither, love, shall we go?'
And the singer shaking his curly head
Turn'd as he sat, and struck the keys
There at his right with a sudden crash,
Singing, And shall it be over the seas
With a crew that is neither rude nor rash,
But a bevy of Eroses apple-cheek'd,
In a shallop of crystal ivory-beak'd?
With a satin sail of a ruby glow,

To a sweet little Eden on earth that I know,
A mountain islet pointed and peak'd;
Waves on a diamond shingle dash,
Cataract brooks to the ocean run,
Fairily-delicate palaces shine

Mixt with myrtle and clad with vine,
And overstream'd and silvery-streak'd
With many a rivulet high against the sun
The facets of the glorious mountain flash
Above the valleys of palm and pine.'

'Thither, O thither, love, let us go.'

Bark an answer, Britain's raven! bark and blacken innumerable,

Blacken round the Roman carrion, make the carcase a skeleton,

Kite and kestrel, wolf and wolfkin, from the wilderness, wallow in it, Till the face of Bel be brighten'd, Taranis be propitiated.

Lo their colony half-defended! lo their colony, Cámulodúne !

There the horde of Roman robbers mock at a barbarous adversary. There the hive of Roman liars worship an emperor-idiot.

Such is Rome, and this her deity; hear it, Spirit of Cássivëlaún !

'Hear it, Gods! the Gods have heard it, O Icenian, O Coritanian !

Doubt not ye the Gods have answer'd, Catieuchlanian, Trinobant.

These have told us all their anger in miraculous utterances,

Thunder, a flying fire in heaven, a murmur heard aërially,

Phantom sound of blows descending, moan of an enemy massacred, Phantom wail of women and children, multitudinous agonies.

Bloodily flow'd the Tamesa rolling phantom bodies of horses and men; Then a phantom colony smoulder'd on the refluent estuary;

Lastly yonder yester-even, suddenly giddily tottering

There was one who watch'd and told medown their statue of Victory fell. Lo their precious Roman bantling, lo the colony Cámulodúne,

Shall we teach it a Roman lesson ? shall

we care to be pitiful? Shall we deal with it as an infant? shall we dandle it amorously?

'Hear, Icenian, Catieuchlanian, hear, Coritanian, Trinobant! While I roved about the forest, long and bitterly meditating,

There I heard them in the darkness, at the Loosely robed in flying raiment, sang the mystical ceremony; terrible prophetesses: "Fear not, isle of blowing woodland, isle of silvery parapets!

Tho' the Roman eagle shadow thee, tho' the gathering enemy narrow thee, Thou shalt wax and he shall dwindle, thou shalt be the mighty one yet! Thine the liberty, thine the glory, thine the deeds to be celebrated,

Thine the myriad-rolling ocean, light and shadow illimitable,

Thine the lands of lasting summer, manyblossoming Paradises,

Thine the North and thine the South and

thine the battle-thunder of God." So they chanted: how shall Britain light upon auguries happier?

So they chanted in the darkness, and there cometh a victory now.

'Hear, Icenian, Catieuchlanian, hear, Coritanian, Trinobant !

Me the wife of rich Prasútagus, me the lover of liberty,

Me they seized and me they tortured, me they lash'd and humiliated,

Me the sport of ribald Veterans, mine of ruffian violators !

See, they sit, they hide their faces, miser

able in ignominy!

Wherefore in me burns an anger, not by blood to be satiated.

Lo the palaces and the temple, lo the colony Cámulodúne !

There they ruled, and thence they wasted all the flourishing territory, Thither at their will they haled the yellowringleted Britoness Bloodily, bloodily fall the battle-axe, unexhausted, inexorable.

Shout, Icenian, Catieuchlanian, shout, Coritanian, Trinobant,

Till the victim hear within and yearn to hurry precipitously,

Like the leaf in a roaring whirlwind, like the smoke in a hurricane whirl'd.

Lo the colony, there they rioted in the city

of Cúnobelíne !

There they drank in cups of emerald, there at tables of ebony lay,

Rolling on their purple couches in their tender effeminacy.

There they dwelt and there they rioted; there-there-they dwell no more.

Burst the gates, and burn the palaces, break

the works of the statuary,

Take the hoary Roman head and shatter it,

hold it abominable,

Cut the Roman boy to pieces in his lust and voluptuousness,

Lash the maiden into swooning, me they lash'd and humiliated,

Chop the breasts from off the mother, dash the brains of the little one out, Up, my Britons! on, my chariot! on, my chargers, trample them under us!"

So the Queen Boädicéa, standing loftily charioted, Brandishing in her hand a dart and rolling glances lioness-like,

Yell'd and shriek'd between her daughters in her fierce volubility.

Till her people all around the royal chariot agitated,

Madly dash'd the darts together, writhing barbarous lineaments,

Made the noise of frosty woodlands, when they shiver in January,

Roar'd as when the roaring breakers boom and blanch on the precipices, Yell'd as when the winds of winter tear an oak on a promontory.

So the silent colony, hearing her tumultuous adversaries

Clash the darts and on the buckler beat with rapid unanimous hand, Thought on all her evil tyrannies, all her pitiless avarice,

Till she felt the heart within her fall and flutter tremulously,

Then her pulses at the clamoring of her enemy fainted away.

Out of evil evil flourishes, out of tyranny tyranny buds.

Ran the land with Roman slaughter, multitudinous agonies.

Perish'd many a maid and matron, many a valorous legionary,

Fell the colony, city, and citadel, London, Verulam, Camulodúne.

IN QUANTITY

ON TRANSLATIONS OF HOMER (HEXAMETERS AND PENTAMETERS)

This and the three following 'experiments in quantity' appeared in the Cornhill Magazine' for December, 1863. This was not printed with the others in the 'Enoch Arden'