05.2) Additional Poems read by Professor Adrian Poole - Lines on Cambridge of 1830
Duration: 1 min 22 secs
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| Description: | We ended up with a fair bit of spare time between two sessions and rather than broadcast dead air, Professor Poole read a few poems that were not on the schedule. First, is "The Charge of the Light Brigade", then "Lines on Cambridge of 1830", "To E. FitzGerald" and, finally, "Demeter and Persephone". |
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| Created: | 2009-11-30 12:22 | ||
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| Collection: | Reading Tennyson: A Celebration of the Bicentenary of the Birth of Alfred, Lord Tennyson | ||
| Publisher: | University of Cambridge | ||
| Copyright: | Faculty of English | ||
| Language: | eng (English) | ||
| Keywords: | tennyson; cambridge; 1830; poole; | ||
| Credits: |
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Transcript
Transcript:
Something very different now: Lines on Cambridge of 1830. Tennyson has a note that says, he could, and here I quote, "only regret that this spirit of undergraduate irritability against the Cambridge of that day ever found its way into print, but I place the lines here in deference to the wishes of my friends."
Therefore your Halls, your ancient Colleges,
Your portals statued with old kings and queens,
Your gardens, myriad-volumed libraries.
Wax-lighted chapels, and rich carven screens,
Your doctors, and your proctors, and your deans,
Shall not avail you, when the Day-beam sports
New-risen o'er awaken'd Albion. No!
Nor yet your solemn organ-pipes that blow
Melodious thunders thro' your vacant courts
At noon and eve, because your manner sorts
Not with this age wherefrom ye stand apart.
Because the lips of little children preach
Against you, you that do profess to teach
And teach us nothing, feeding not the heart.
Therefore your Halls, your ancient Colleges,
Your portals statued with old kings and queens,
Your gardens, myriad-volumed libraries.
Wax-lighted chapels, and rich carven screens,
Your doctors, and your proctors, and your deans,
Shall not avail you, when the Day-beam sports
New-risen o'er awaken'd Albion. No!
Nor yet your solemn organ-pipes that blow
Melodious thunders thro' your vacant courts
At noon and eve, because your manner sorts
Not with this age wherefrom ye stand apart.
Because the lips of little children preach
Against you, you that do profess to teach
And teach us nothing, feeding not the heart.
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