Milton

by Tennyson

Literary translations of Latin poetry into English generally do not use the metre of the original: there have been attempts, but I can’t think of a successful one. This poem is not a translation, but an English original in which Alfred, Lord Tennyson, uses a classical metre which he especially admires: Alcaics, named after Alcaeus, an aristocratic Greek poet and politician who was born on the island of Lesbos in the late seventh century BCE. To compare Tennyson’s piece with some of Horace’s Latin poems in Alcaics, use the index to Pantheon Poets’ selection of his work here, where the metre of each poem is listed.

Whether Tennyson’s poem altogether succeeds is questionable. It has oddities: it is addressed to Milton in the vocative but in the end does not say anything to him; the three-line wait to discover what effect Milton’s description of Eden has on Tennyson is long; and the lines at the end about an Indian sunset perceived at sea seem not to work syntactically. On the other hand, the poem follows the Alcaic metre successfully without the English sounding strained, and, nit-picking about syntax aside, it has the musical charm and exalted lyrical beauty that are among Tennyson’s hallmarks. Either way, it is a brave and interesting attempt by a great poet, and worthy at the very least of respect.

I do not know why Tennyson chose Milton for Alcaics or Alcaics for Milton. Each combined poetic achievement with taking part in political and military opposition to rulers whom they regarded as tyrants, and perhaps that had something to do with it. Although Tennyson in later life could not have been more of an establishment figure and was on good personal terms with Queen Victoria, he himself had in youth been a committed supporter of revolutionary movements in Spain.

See the illustrated blog post with a fine portrait of Tennyson by a pioneering Victorian photographer here.

(Alcaics)

O mighty-mouth’d inventor of harmonies,
O skill’d to sing of Time or Eternity,
God-gifted organ-voice of England,
Milton, a name to resound for ages;
Whose Titan angels, Gabriel, Abdiel,
Starr’d from Jehovah’s gorgeous armouries,
Tower, as the deep-domed empyrean
Rings to the roar of an angel onset—
Me rather all that bowery loneliness,
The brooks of Eden mazily murmuring,
And bloom profuse and cedar arches
Charm, as a wanderer out in ocean,
Where some refulgent sunset of India
Streams o’er a rich ambrosial ocean isle,
And crimson-hued the stately palm-woods
Whisper in odorous heights of even.

More Poems by Tennyson

More poems by this author will be added shortly.