I broke out the old Alfred Lord Tennyson poetry book today for a bit of happy reading. Between The Inferno, The Shining and dealing with my evil little devil of a boss I've had enough 'serious' for the time being. Tennyson's works are so beautiful and enchanting that I can fall into them and get lost in thought for hours on end. The one today that I have been really comtenplating is one of his early works (dated 1830) called The Sleeping Beauty.
1
Year after year unto her feet,
She lying on her couch alone,
Across the purpled coverlet,
The maiden's jet-black hair has grown,
On either side her tranced form
Forth streaming from a braid of pearl:
The slumbrous light is rich and warm,
And moves not on the rounded curl.
2
The silk star-broider'd coverlid
Unto her limbs itself doth mould
Languidly ever; and, amid
Her full black ringlets downward roll'd,
Glows forth each softly-shadow'd arm,
With bracelets of the diamond bright:
Her constant beauty doth inform
Stillness with love, and day with light.
3
She sleeps: her breathings are not heard
In palace chambers far apart.
The fragrant tresses are not stirr'd
That lie upon her charmed heart.
She sleeps: on either hand upswells
The gold-fringed pillow lightly prest:
She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells
A perfect form in perfect rest.
Maybe it's just my inner little girl who was spoiled with Disney movies, but this poem always makes me smile. It reminds me of the beauty of love and how something as simple as watching one's love sleep can become a treasured stolen moment.