Where Claribel low-lieth
The breezes pause and die,
Letting the rose-leaves fall:
But the solemn oak-tree sigheth,
Thick-leaved, ambrosial,
With an ancient melody
Of an inward agony,
Where Claribel low-lieth.
At eve the beetle boometh
Athwart the thicket lone:
At noon the wild bee hummeth
About the moss'd headstone:
At midnight the moon cometh,
And looketh down alone.
Her song the lintwhite swelleth,
The clear-voiced mavis dwelleth,
The callow throstle lispeth,
The slumbrous wave outwelleth,
The babbling runnel crispeth,
The hollow grot replieth
Where Claribel low-lieth.
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Comments
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8/10
I love this - but at the same time, it cries out in complete solitude and lonliness. -
10 out of 10
Like most of good poetry, this poem inspires emotions, yet is incredibly hard to tackle with the intellect. Orginally, I thought this poem to be a love poem, but as its text began to settle in my mind, I began to think of it as a poem of lost and despair. "Low Lieth" implies that claribel is entombed in a grave while an inward agony implies a lover commenting on his visit to her resting place. Although, Tennyson tells a poem about a dead lover, he ultimately concludes that he can see clabiel in different beautiful things (Like bee hum or falling leaves) which suggests, love cannot be destroyed by death. -
7/10
Yeah, that is the reason to like a poem, because it is named the same as your own, so, the next time I see a poem named Norman, I will automatically like it and if it is crap, it won't matter because it is named Norman.
Yeah, ok....
Anyways, it is a good piece, not because of the above comment, but, because it flowed well and the repetition was good.
A good piece here.
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I liked this poem because my name is Claribel and i really liked it.
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