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by Alfred Tennyson, Lord (1809 - 1892)
Translation by Léon Morel (1850 - 1917)

'Tis well; 'tis something; we may stand
Language: English 
'Tis well; 'tis something; we may stand
    Where he in English earth is laid,
    And from his ashes may be made
The violet of his native land.
 
'Tis little; but it looks in truth
    As if the quiet bones were blest
    Among familiar names to rest
And in the places of his youth.
 
Come then, pure hands, and bear the head
    That sleeps or wears the mask of sleep,
    And come, whatever loves to weep,
And hear the ritual of the dead.
 
Ah yet, ev'n yet, if this might be,
    I, falling on his faithful heart,
    Would breathing thro' his lips impart
The life that almost dies in me;
 
That dies not, but endures with pain,
    And slowly forms the firmer mind,
    Treasuring the look it cannot find,
The words that are not heard again.

*        *        *        *        *

I sing to him that rests below,
    And, since the grasses round me wave,
    I take the grasses of the grave,
And make them pipes whereon to blow.
 
The traveller hears me now and then,
    And sometimes harshly will he speak:
    'This fellow would make weakness weak,
And melt the waxen hearts of men.'
 
Another answers, 'Let him be,
    He loves to make parade of pain,
    That with his piping he may gain
The praise that comes to constancy.'
 
A third is wroth: 'Is this an hour
    For private sorrow's barren song,
    When more and more the people throng
The chairs and thrones of civil power?
 
'A time to sicken and to swoon,
    When Science reaches forth her arms
    To feel from world to world, and charms
Her secret from the latest moon?'
 
Behold, ye speak an idle thing:
    Ye never knew the sacred dust:
    I do but sing because I must,
And pipe but as the linnets sing:
 
And one is glad; her note is gay,
    For now her little ones have ranged;
    And one is sad; her note is changed,
Because her brood is stol'n away.

About the headline (FAQ)

Confirmed with The Book of Sorrow, ed. by Andrew Macphail, London, New York, Oxford University Press, 1916.


Text Authorship:

  • by Alfred Tennyson, Lord (1809 - 1892), no title, appears in In Memoriam A. H. H. obiit MDCCCXXXIII, no. 17 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

    [ None yet in the database ]

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

  • Also set in French (Français), a translation by Léon Morel (1850 - 1917) , no title, appears in In Memoriam, poèmes de Lord Alfred Tennyson traduits en vers français, Paris, Éd. Hachette, first published 1898 ; composed by Max d'Ollone.
    • Go to the text.

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2018-12-07
Line count: 49
Word count: 328

C'est bien c'est quelque chose; en la...
Language: French (Français)  after the English 
C'est bien c'est quelque chose; en la paisible terre, 
   Qui le vit naître au jour, son corps est en repos, 
   Et, dans le sein commun, la cendre de ses os 
Pourra nourrir la violette d'Angleterre.

C'est peu de chose; mais il semble, en vérité, 
   Qu'à son corps soit donnée une paix plus heureuse, 
   Si de noms familiers une troupe pieuse
L'entoure, en ce pays que jeune il a hanté.

Venez donc, pures mains, supportez cette tête
   Qui dort, ou du sommeil porte un masque trompeur;
   Venez entendre, ô vous, amants de la douleur,
Le rituel des morts en notre triste fête.

Et pourtant, même encor, si cela pouvait être, 
   Je voudrais, me penchant sur son fidèle coeur, 
   A sa bouche pâlie, hélas souffler sans peur 
La frêle vie en moi tout près de disparaître,

Et qui ne meurt pourtant; mais dure, pour souffrir, 
   Pour former lentement une âme plus constante, 
   Pour me faire un trésor de la figure absente
Et des mots que jamais je ne dois plus ouïr.

About the headline (FAQ)

Confirmed with Léon Morel, In memoriam / poèmes de Lord Alfred Tennyson ; traduits en vers français, Librairie Hachette & Cie, p. 15


Text Authorship:

  • by Léon Morel (1850 - 1917), no title, appears in In Memoriam, poèmes de Lord Alfred Tennyson traduits en vers français, Paris, Éd. Hachette, first published 1898 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]

Based on:

  • a text in English by Alfred Tennyson, Lord (1809 - 1892), no title, appears in In Memoriam A. H. H. obiit MDCCCXXXIII, no. 17
    • Go to the text page.

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

  • by Max d'Ollone (1875 - 1959), "C'est bien, c'est quelque chose", published 1910 [ medium voice and piano ], from In Memoriam, fragments du poème de Tennyson, no. 2, Paris, Éd. 'Au Ménestrel', Heugel et Cie. [sung text not yet checked]

Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Joost van der Linden [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2022-11-01
Line count: 20
Word count: 169

Gentle Reminder

This website began in 1995 as a personal project by Emily Ezust, who has been working on it full-time without a salary since 2008. Our research has never had any government or institutional funding, so if you found the information here useful, please consider making a donation. Your help is greatly appreciated!
–Emily Ezust, Founder

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