The VictimLordAlfredTennysonTennyson, AlfredIllustratorArthur BoydHoughtonHoughton, Arthur Boyd
Metadata research and editing
DVPP Project TeamKaitlynFralickUniversity of Victoria Digital Victorian Periodical Poetry ProjectVictoria, BC, Canada
In the public domain
Poem signed Alfred Tennyson, Poet Laureate. (AC)Good Words917–18A plague upon the people fell,text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 1.35rem; letter-spacing:
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The Victim.By Alfred Tennyson, Poet Laureate.
I.A plague upon the people fell,A famine after laid them low,Then thorpe and byre arose in fire,For on them brake the sudden foe ;So thick they died the people cried“ The Gods are moved against the land.”The Priest in horror about his alterTo Thor and Odin liften a hand.“ Help us from famineAnd plague and strife !What would you have of us ?Human life ?Were it ournearest,Were it ourdearest,(Answer, O answer)We give you his life.”
II.But still the foeman spoil’d and burn’d,And cattle died, and deer in wood,And bird in air, and fishes turn’dAnd whiten’d all the rolling flood ;And dead men lay all over the way,Or down in a furrow seathed with flameAnd ever and aye the Priesthood moan’dTill at last it seemed that an answer came :“ The King is happyIn child and wife ;Take you hisnearest,Take you hisdearest,Give us a life.”
III.The Priest went out by heath and hill ;The King was hunting in the wild ;They found the mother sitting still ;She cast her arms about the child.The child was only eight summers old,His beauty still with his years increased,His face was ruddy, his hair was gold,He seem’d a victim due to the priest.The Priest exulted,And cried with joy,“ Here is hisnearest,Here is hisdearest,We take the boy.”
IV.The King return’d from out the wild,He bore but little game in hand ;The mother said “ They have taken the childTo spill his blood and heal the land :The land is sick, the people diseased,And blight and famine on all the lea :The holy Gods, they must be appeased,So I pray you tell the truth to me.They have taken our son,They will have his life.Is he yournearest ?Is he yourdearest ?(Answer, O answer)Or I, the wife ?”
V.The King bent low, with hand on brow,He stay’d his arms upon his knee :“ O wife, what use to answer now ?For now the Priest has judged for me.”The King was shaken with holy fear ;“ The Gods,” he said, “ would have chosen well ;Yet both are near, and both are dear,And which the dearest I cannot tell !”But the Priest was happy,His victim won.“ We have hisnearest,We have hisdearest,His only son !”
VI.The rites prepared, the victim bared,The knife uprising toward the blow,To the alter-stone she sprang alone,“ Me, me not him, my darling, no !”He caught her away with a sudden cry ;Suddenly from him brake with the wife,And shrieking “ I am his dearest, I—I am his dearest ! ” rush’d on the knife.And the Priest was happy,“ O, Father Odin,We give you a life.Which was hisnearest ?Which was hisdearest ?The Gods have answered :We give them the wife !”