The Works of Tennyson The Eversley Edition: Annotated by Alfred, Lord Tennyson: Edited by Hallam, Lord Tennyson |
 | I. |
 | II. |
|
|
|
THE SPITEFUL LETTER. |
|
|
|
|
| III. |
| VII. |
| V. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
 | The Works of Tennyson |  |
280
THE SPITEFUL LETTER.
First published in Once a Week, January 1868. It is no particular letter that I meant. I have had dozens of them from one quarter and another.
Here, it is here, the close of the year,
And with it a spiteful letter.
My name in song has done him much wrong,
For himself has done much better.
And with it a spiteful letter.
My name in song has done him much wrong,
For himself has done much better.
O little bard, is your lot so hard,
If men neglect your pages?
I think not much of yours or of mine,
I hear the roll of the ages.
If men neglect your pages?
I think not much of yours or of mine,
I hear the roll of the ages.
Rhymes and rhymes in the range of the times!
Are mine for the moment stronger?
Yet hate me not, but abide your lot,
I last but a moment longer.
Are mine for the moment stronger?
Yet hate me not, but abide your lot,
I last but a moment longer.
This faded leaf, our names are as brief;
What room is left for a hater?
Yet the yellow leaf hates the greener leaf,
For it hangs one moment later.
What room is left for a hater?
Yet the yellow leaf hates the greener leaf,
For it hangs one moment later.
281
Greater than I—is that your cry?
And men will live to see it.
Well—if it be so—so it is, you know;
And if it be so, so be it.
And men will live to see it.
Well—if it be so—so it is, you know;
And if it be so, so be it.
Brief, brief is a summer leaf,
But this is the time of hollies.
O hollies and ivies and evergreens,
How I hate the spites and the follies!
But this is the time of hollies.
O hollies and ivies and evergreens,
How I hate the spites and the follies!
| The Works of Tennyson | |