Nigel
Swift, in his poetic researches, has discovered an unpublished version of the
poem from Tennyson’s In Memoriam that
begins:
“Old
Yew, which graspest at the stones
That
name the under-lying dead ...”
and
ends:
“I
seem to fail from out my blood
And
grow incorporate into thee.”
Nigel thinks that, while this earlier version may lack some of the beauties of the published one, it certainly makes its point more clearly.
_________________
ii.
Old
Yew, which grasps at the cold stones
That name the under-lying dead,
What thoughts revolve in your
dull head?
Why
do you mutter in such tones?
The
seasons slowly swing around
And bring the snow and bloom and fruit,
But like a gentleman in a suit
You
stand there staring at the ground.
And
in your shade, from morn till eve,
I stand here writing reams of verse;
My voice it rumbles like a hearse;
It
is a place I rarely leave.
Month
after month, without hope or view,
I stand beside this grave and mourn.
The truth approaches, like the dawn:
O
tree! I’m turning into you.
*
(Nigel Swift’s note: Corrections on the manuscript show that
Tennyson was in some doubt as how to spell the last word of this poem. This may have been what led him to abandon
this otherwise irreproachable version.)
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