Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.
Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail,
That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge;
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns
The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes
The casement slowly grows a glimmering square;
So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.
Dear as remember'd kisses after death,
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd
On lips that are for others; deep as love,
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;
O Death in Life, the days that are no more.
In "Tears, Idle Tears," one of the most poignant lyrics from Tennyson's "The Princess" (1847), we encounter a masterful exploration of what the Victorians termed "melancholy" - that peculiar admixture of sorrow and sweetness that characterizes the remembrance of things past. The poem's emotional complexity and technical virtuosity make it a cornerstone of Victorian literature, demonstrating Tennyson's ability to transform personal grief into universal human experience through carefully crafted verse.
The poem's structure, consisting of four five-line stanzas (quintains), creates a rhythmic framework that mirrors the ebb and flow of emotional intensity. Tennyson employs unrhymed iambic pentameter, or blank verse, but achieves musical coherence through other means - particularly through the repetition of the haunting refrain "the days that are no more." This decision to forgo rhyme scheme in favor of metrical consistency allows for a more naturalistic expression of grief, avoiding the potential artificiality that end-rhyme might impose on such deeply felt sentiment.
Each stanza builds upon the previous one through a series of carefully constructed similes, creating what might be termed a "ladder of loss." The progression moves from the initial mystery of tears, through various manifestations of absence, to the final devastating paradox of "Death in Life." The repeated final line serves not merely as a refrain but as a deepening revelation, gathering new meaning with each iteration.
Tennyson's mastery of imagery is perhaps nowhere more evident than in this poem's intricate pattern of natural and temporal symbols. The "happy Autumn-fields" of the first stanza present a complex visual tableau that immediately establishes the poem's central tension between present beauty and past loss. The autumn setting is particularly significant, suggesting both fruition and decay, the fullness of harvest and the imminence of winter - a perfect objective correlative for the speaker's psychological state.
The maritime imagery of the second stanza ("the first beam glittering on a sail") introduces a spatial dimension to the temporal concerns of the poem. The image of ships rising and sinking beyond the horizon creates a powerful metaphor for the appearance and disappearance of loved ones, while simultaneously suggesting the cyclical nature of loss and return. The "underworld" reference subtly invokes classical mythology, particularly the myth of Proserpina, lending universal resonance to personal grief.
The poem's sonic texture is remarkably sophisticated, employing what might be termed "emotional onomatopoeia." The predominance of long vowel sounds, particularly in words like "tears," "deep," "sad," and "strange," creates a sonic environment that mimics the languorous nature of melancholic contemplation. The alliterative patterns, such as "sad as the last" and "deep as death," provide subtle musical connections that compensate for the absence of rhyme.
Tennyson's use of repetition is particularly noteworthy. Beyond the obvious refrain, we find internal repetitions ("deep as love, / Deep as first love") that create a sense of emotional intensification through iteration. The gradual accumulation of similar syntactic structures ("fresh as," "sad as," "dear as") builds a powerful rhetorical momentum that culminates in the final stanza's devastating conclusion.
The poem grapples with fundamental questions about the nature of memory, time, and consciousness. The opening confession of ignorance ("I know not what they mean") establishes an epistemological uncertainty that pervades the entire work. The tears are "idle" yet rise from "divine despair," suggesting both the futility and the transcendent nature of human grief.
The notion of "divine despair" is particularly intriguing, implying that melancholy has a spiritual dimension - that it might be, paradoxically, a form of communion with the divine through the experience of loss. This concept aligns with Romantic ideas about the sublimity of suffering, while anticipating modernist preoccupations with the relationship between absence and meaning.
Central to the poem is its complex treatment of temporality. The phrase "the days that are no more" becomes increasingly weighted with significance as it recurs, encompassing not just personal memories but the entire human experience of temporal displacement. The poem suggests that the past exists in a strange quantum state - both present and absent, "sad" yet "fresh," "strange" yet "dear."
This treatment of time reflects Victorian anxieties about change and permanence in an era of rapid social and technological transformation. The poem's persistent return to the past might be read as a response to the disorienting pace of nineteenth-century progress, offering a meditation on the psychological cost of living in a world of constant change.
The final stanza introduces the theme of love explicitly, though it has been implicit throughout. The comparison of remembered kisses to those "by hopeless fancy feign'd / On lips that are for others" introduces a new dimension of loss - not just the loss of death but the loss inherent in unfulfilled desire. The progression from "deep as love" to "deep as first love" suggests that the initial experience of love sets a standard of intensity that becomes itself a source of melancholy.
"Tears, Idle Tears" stands as one of Tennyson's most accomplished lyrics, demonstrating his ability to weave together personal emotion, natural imagery, and philosophical speculation into a coherent artistic whole. The poem's exploration of grief and memory, while deeply rooted in Victorian sensibilities, transcends its historical moment to speak to the universal human experience of temporal displacement and loss.
Through its careful manipulation of form, sound, and imagery, the poem creates what might be termed a "poetics of absence," whereby the very attempt to articulate loss becomes a means of preserving what is lost. The final paradox of "Death in Life" encapsulates the poem's central insight: that our capacity to remember and to mourn is both a source of pain and a testament to the depth and durability of human attachment.
Far from being merely "idle," the tears of the title become, through the course of the poem, a profound expression of the human condition - our unique awareness of time's passage and our equally unique ability to find beauty in that awareness. In this sense, the poem offers not just an expression of grief but a kind of consolation, suggesting that the very intensity of our loss is a measure of the richness of our experience.