LORD TENNYSON AND THE SEA.
[TO THE EDITOR OF THE " SPECTATOR."
■ SIR,—In your article on "The Poetry of the Sea," in the Spectator of January 5th, I notice one fact that interests me greatly,—that you do not mention the name of Tennyson
-among those who are great in dealing with it as poets. Possibly he may be well represented in the volume containing the selections you quote. Still, there is one idea that is deeply seated in the imaginative-minded, that Tennyson has again and again expressed here and there in his longer poems, while in one or two others, such as "Ulysses," he has made it the motive of the piece. This is the conception of the sea as "friend," as a thing with a mighty voice, with perhaps a mighty soul. I am not attempting to pronounce on the truth at the heart of this fancy. I only say that it exists, as you, of course, will know, and that Tennyson has in many places em- bodied it in verse, has, without being definitely insistent or assertive, brought out, nevertheless, this sense of the voice of the sea, showing himself thus to be in sympathy with the crowd of lesser men. One of the first examples that occurs to me is "Enoch Arden," and among the passages therein stands out that at the end:—
" Then the third night after this,
While Enoch slumbered motionless and pale, And Miriam watched and dozed at intervals, There came so loud a calling of the sea That all the houses in the haven rang.
He woke, he rose, he spread his arms abroad, Crying with a loud voice, 'A sail, ! a sail !'
I am saved,' and so fell back and spoke no more."
Nor is Tennyson ever weary of alluding to the music of its
voice; in many poems he has recorded many of its tones. I need only allude to "The Sea-Fairies," "The Lotos-Eaters,' and the curious fascination which is the subject of his ." Voyage." It struck me as strange that in spite of all the terseness and keen sympathy which the Laureate has so often ..shown when he brings the sea into his work, no mention should have been made of him when discussing sea-poets. I grant that he may not have written many poems exclusively of that -element, but so many of his works contain its innermost spirit, that I looked for his presence as a matter of course.—I am, 2 Langland Gardens, Hampstead, N.W., January 6th.
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