Note 128 — Chapter VI · THE LAST STAGE—TENNYSON TO SWINBURNE
Reading edition
If ev|er thou | didst creep From out | the world | of sleep, When the sun | slips | and the moon | dips, If ev|er thou | wast born; Or upon | the starv|ing lips Of the gray | uncol|oured morn.
(Especial effect produced by the anapæsts and monosyllabic feet of line 3.)
Thou go|est more | and more To the sil|ent things: | thy hair | is hoar, Emp|tier thy wear|y face: | like to | the shore Far-ru|ined, and | the deso|late bil|low white That recedes | and leaves | it waif-wrin|kled, gap-|rocked, weak. The shore | and the bil|low white Groan|—they cry | and rest | not: they | would speak And call | the eter|nal Night To cease | them for ev|er, bid|ding new | things is|sue From her | cold tis|sue: Night | that is ev|er young, | nor knows | decay, Though old|er by | eter|nity | than they.
(Very fine "modern Pindaric," with extremely well-managed substitution.)