Far on in summers that we shall not see.
Peace! it is a day of pain

For one about whose patriarchal knee
Late the little children clung:

O peace! it is a day of pain

For one upon whose hand and heart and brain
Once the weight and fate of Europe hung:
Ours the pain, be his the gain!

8. More than is of man's degree

Must be with us, watching here
At this, our great solemnity.
Whom we see not we revere.
We revere, and we refrain

From talk of battles loud and vain,
And brawling memories all too free
For such a wise humility

As befits a solemn fane:

9. We revere, and while we hear
The tides of Music's golden sea
Setting toward eternity,

Uplifted high in heart and hope are we,
Until we doubt not that for one so true
There must be other nobler work to do
Than when he fought at Waterloo,
And victor he must ever be.

10. For though the Giant Ages heave the hill
And break the shore, and evermore

Make and break, and work their will;

Though world on world in myriad myriads roll Round us, each with different powers,

And other forms of life than ours,

What know we greater than the soul?

11. On God and Godlike men we build our trust.

Hush! the "Dead March" wails in the people's ears:
The dark crowd moves, and there are sobs and tears:
The black earth yawns: the mortal disappears;
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

12. He is gone who seemed so great-
Gone; but nothing can bereave him
Of the force he made his own
Being here, and we believe him
Something far advanced in state,
And that he wears a truer crown

Than any wreath that man can weave him.
But speak no more of his renown;
Lay your earthly fancies down,

And in the vast cathedral leave him.

God accept him, Christ receive him!

Alfred Tennyson.

FOR PREPARATION.-I. These passages are from the beginning and end, omitting, after the 6th stanza here, 189 lines in which the chief topic is the deeds of Wellington (a comparison with Nelson, his victories in Spain and at Waterloo, and a reference to his services as statesman). The extract here given contains about one third of this great ode—" a more magnificent monument than any or all the histories that record the commander's life," as Emerson says. Date of the death of Wellington? Explain the allusions to his history.

II. Mōurn'-ing, war'-riors (war'yērz), čeh'-o, wrought (rawt), erowd, mär'-tial (-shal), făsh'-ion (-un), am-bĭ'-tioŭs (-bish'us), eoun'-çil, trī'umph, tỏngue (tung), på-tri-är'-ehal, weight (wāt).

III. Mark the feet and accented syllables of the 1st, 7th, and 12th stanzas. (See CI.)

IV. Lamentation, pall, deplore, pageant, oracle, enduring, moderate, resolute, amplest, pretense, sublime, simplicity, omens, unmolded, solemnity, refrain, revere, humility, fane, myriad, yawns, bereave, cathedral, ode.

V. Notice how Tennyson unites a perfect command of the external rhythm—or the harmony based on sound and equal intervals of time—and

of the internal rhythm-rhyming of mental pictures through tautology, synonyms, antithesis, and correspondence of individual and its species. (See CIII., CXX., CXLII., CXLV., notes.) Parallelism: "Bury . . . great Duke . . . empire's lamentation." Bury.. great Duke... mourning mighty nation." "In soldier fashion will he greet" (the soldier does not bow or bend his body, but raises his hand as if to take off his hat). "We revere and we refrain" (8) (refrain even from speaking of his great battles, out of a still higher respect and delicacy; for sometimes silence is greater praise than words. If we name his battles, it detracts from him, for it assumes that these battles are not known by everybody, and therefore need some mention). "The force he made his own being here" (12) (can not be lost to him in death, and so) we believe him something far advanced in state ” (i. e., immortal).

CXLV. THE EXEQUIES OF MIGNON.

1. The abbé called them in the evening to attend the exequies of Mignon. The company proceeded to the Hall of the Past. They found it magnificently ornamented and illuminated. The walls were hung with azure tapestry almost from ceiling to floor, so that nothing but the friezes and socles, above and below, were visible.

2. On the four candelabra in the corner large wax lights were burning; smaller lights were in the four smaller candelabra placed by the sarcophagus in the middle. Near this stood four boys, dressed in azure with silver; they had bread fans of ostrich feathers, which they waved above a figure that was resting upon the sarcophagus.

3. The company sat down. Two invisible choruses began in a soft musical recitative to ask, "Whom bring ye us to the still dwelling?" The four boys replied, with lovely voices: "Tis a tired playmate whom we bring you. Let her rest in your still dwelling, till the songs of her heavenly sisters once more awaken her."

4. Chorus-Firstling of youth in our circle, we welcome thee! with sadness welcome thee! May no boy, no maiden follow! Let age only, willing and composed, approach the silent Hall, and in the solemn company repose this one dear child!

5. Boys-Ah, reluctantly we brought her hither! Ah, and she is to remain here! Let us, too, remain; let us weep-let us weep upon her bier!

6. Chorus-Yet look at the strong wings! Look at the light, clear robe! How glitters the golden band upon her head! Look at the beautiful, the noble repose!

7. Boys-Ah! the wings do not raise her. In the frolic her robe flutters to and fro no more. game, When we bound her head with roses, her looks on us were kind and friendly.

8. Chorus-Cast forward the eye of the spirit! Awake in your souls the imaginative power, which carries forth what is fairest, what is highest-Life-away beyond the stars.

9. Boys-But ah! we find her not here. In the garden she wanders not; the flowers of the meadow she plucks no longer. Let us weep-we are leaving her here! Let us weep, and remain with her!

10. Chorus-Children, turn back into life! Your tears let the fresh air dry, which plays upon the rushing water. Fly from night! Day, and pleasure, and continuance are the lot of the living.

11. Boys-Up! Turn back into life! Let the day give us labor and pleasure, till the evening brings us rest, and the nightly sleep refreshes us.

12. Chorus-Children, hasten into life! In the pure garments of beauty, may Love meet you with heavenly looks, and with the wreath of immortality!

13. The boys had retired. The abbé rose from his seat and went behind the bier. "It is the appointment," said he, “of the man who prepared this silent abode, that each new tenant of it shall be introduced with a solemnity. After him, the builder of this mansion, the founder of this establishment, we have next brought a young stranger hither; and thus already does this little space contain two altogether different victims of the rigorous, arbitrary, and inexorable death goddess.

14. "By appointed laws we enter into life; but for the duration of our life there is no law. The weakest thread will spin itself to unexpected length; and the strongest is cut suddenly asunder by the scissors of the Fates, delighting, as it seems, in contradictions.

15. "Of the child, whom we have here committed to her final rest, we can say but little. It is still uncertain whence she came. Her parents we know not; the years of her life we can only conjecture. Her deep and closely shrouded soul allowed us scarce to guess at its interior movements. There was nothing clear in her, nothing open, but her affection for the man who had snatched her from the hands of a barbarian.

16. "This impassioned tenderness, this vivid gratitude, appeared to be the flame which consumed the oil of her life. The skill of the physician could not save that fair life, the most anxious friendship could not lengthen it. But if art could not stay the departing spirit, it has done its utmost to preserve the body and withdraw it from decay. A balsamic substance has been forced through all the veins, and now tinges, in place of blood,