The Palace of Art

First published in 1833, but altered so extensively on its republication in 1842 as to be practically rewritten. The alterations in it after 1842 were not numerous, consisting chiefly in the deletion of two stanzas after line 192 and the insertion of the three stanzas which follow in the present text, together with other minor verbal corrections, all of which have been noted. No alterations were made in the text after 1853.

The allegory Tennyson explains in the dedicatory verses, but the framework of the poem was evidently suggested by 'Ecclesiastes' ii. 1-17. The position of the hero is precisely that of Solomon. Both began by assuming that man is self-sufficing and the world sufficient; the verdict of the one in consequence being "vanity of vanities, all is vanity," of the other what the poet here records. An admirable commentary on the poem is afforded by Matthew Arnold's picture of the Romans before Christ taught the secret of the only real happiness possible to man. See 'Obermann Once More'. The teaching of the poem has been admirably explained by Spedding. It "represents allegorically the condition of a mind which, in the love of beauty and the triumphant consciousness of knowledge and intellectual supremacy, in the intense enjoyment of its own power and glory, has lost sight of its relation to man and God". See 'Tennyson's Life', vol. i., p. 226.

I built my soul a lordly pleasure-house Wherein at ease for aye to dwell. I said, "O Soul, make merry and carouse, Dear soul, for all is well".

A huge crag-platform, smooth as burnish'd brass, I chose. The ranged ramparts bright From level meadow-bases of deep grass [1] Suddenly scaled the light.

Thereon I built it firm. Of ledge or shelf The rock rose clear, or winding stair. My soul would live alone unto herself In her high palace there.

And "while the world [2] runs round and round," I said, "Reign thou apart, a quiet king, Still as, while Saturn [3] whirls, his stedfast [4] shade Sleeps on his luminous [5] ring."

To which my soul made answer readily: "Trust me, in bliss I shall abide In this great mansion, that is built for me, So royal-rich and wide"

* * * * * *

Four courts I made, East, West and South and North, In each a squared lawn, wherefrom The golden gorge of dragons spouted forth A flood of fountain-foam. [6]

And round the cool green courts there ran a row Of cloisters, branch'd like mighty woods, Echoing all night to that sonorous flow Of spouted fountain-floods. [6]

And round the roofs a gilded gallery That lent broad verge to distant lands, Far as the wild swan wings, to where the sky Dipt down to sea and sands. [6]

From those four jets four currents in one swell Across the mountain stream'd below In misty folds, that floating as they fell Lit up a torrent-bow. [6]

And high on every peak a