Amphion
by
Alfred Tennyson
(Poem, Summary, Paraphrase & Analysis)
Amphion
My
father left a park to me,
But
it is wild and barren,
A
garden too with scarce a tree,
And
waster than a warren:
Yet
say the neighbours when they call,
It
is not bad but good land,
And
in it is the germ of all
That
grows within the woodland.
O
had I lived when song was great
In
days of old Amphion,
And
ta’en my fiddle to the gate,
Nor
cared for seed or scion!
And
had I been some rustic bard
Piping
for simple pleasure,
Whose
song grew gladder in the yard,
Because
of growing leisure!
But
since I am to music born,
And
owe my life to singing,
And
cannot lightly lose the morn
By
others’ labour bringing;
The
world is hard, the world is poor,
And
finds no mortal pleasure
In
growing green on wild sea-shore,
Or
meadow-meads of treasure.
Yet
must I work my father’s lands,
And
see that all is growing,
And
plough the glebe with careful hands,
And
watch the water flowing;
And
if, as sometimes happens, I
Should
find the days too dreary,
Lift
up my heart and sing thereby,
And
so be strong and cheery.
For
still the music in my soul
Awakes
and lives for ever,
And
still I feel the deep control
Of
harmony’s endeavour;
While
Fancy keeps her fairy tune,
And
Hope her smile so tender,
Till
all my life becomes a boon,
And
every hour a splendour.
Summary
Alfred
Tennyson’s “Amphion” tells the story of a man who inherits a wild and
uncultivated estate, which becomes a symbol of both his external circumstances
and his inner creative challenges. The speaker, a reflective and sensitive
soul, opens the poem by describing the inheritance left to him by his father—a
park that is “wild and barren,” and a garden “with scarce a tree.” This
inherited land is more desolate than a warren, empty and uncared for. Yet, the
neighbors see potential in it. They tell him it is “good land,” with the “germ
of all that grows within the woodland.” This means that despite its current
barrenness, the land holds within it the potential for fertility and beauty. In
this opening image, Tennyson sets up a metaphor that will echo throughout the
poem: the uncultivated land represents the raw material of life and
imagination, waiting for the transforming touch of effort, music, and creative
vision.
The
speaker then turns to a wistful reflection. He imagines what it would have been
like to live in the ancient days “when song was great,” in the time of Amphion,
the mythical musician from Greek legend. Amphion, by the power of his music,
built the walls of Thebes—stones moved into place at the sound of his lyre. The
speaker longs for such a time, when music had the power to transform the world
effortlessly. He wishes that he, like Amphion, could simply take his fiddle to
the gate and bring order and beauty to the world through song, “nor cared for
seed or scion.” This longing for a magical, creative past reveals the poet’s
awareness of the limitations of his own age—a time in which music and poetry no
longer seem to carry such immediate transformative power. The contrast between
the mythic past and the practical present introduces a quiet note of
melancholy.
He
imagines himself as a “rustic bard,” a simple singer whose music springs from
joy rather than necessity, whose song grows happier as his leisure increases.
This imagined life of pure inspiration and ease stands in stark contrast to his
actual situation, where work, duty, and worldly hardship confine his
creativity. Yet the dream of the old Amphion lingers, as a symbol of the ideal
harmony between art and life—when beauty could directly shape the world.
In
the following movement of the poem, the speaker accepts the reality of his
present life. He acknowledges that he is “to music born,” that singing is not
merely his skill but the very essence of his being. Still, he cannot live idly
on music alone. The world he inhabits, unlike the golden age of Amphion, is
hard and poor. It demands labor, effort, and endurance. He cannot afford to
spend his days in unbroken leisure, letting others bring in his sustenance. The
world, he notes, finds “no mortal pleasure / In growing green on wild
sea-shore, / Or meadow-meads of treasure.” This suggests that the beauty and
growth of nature, or even the fruits of labor, often go unnoticed by others.
The modern world, concerned with material survival and gain, has lost its sensitivity
to the quiet music of creation and imagination.
Nevertheless,
the speaker resolves to carry out his duties faithfully. He must work the lands
his father left him—plough the soil, tend the fields, and ensure that
everything grows and thrives. He understands that even though his inheritance
is barren, it can be made fruitful through effort and persistence. When the
days grow dull and weary, he finds strength in his inner resource—his music.
The song within him becomes his solace, his way of lifting the spirit above the
burdens of the world. When work feels dreary, he can “lift up [his] heart and
sing thereby,” finding joy through the act of creation itself. This turning
point in the poem represents a moral awakening: the realization that one can bring
harmony not by escaping labor but by transforming it through song, through
inner faith and imagination.
The
final stanza affirms this transformation. The speaker declares that the music
in his soul “awakes and lives forever.” It is not an external gift that depends
on circumstances but an eternal inner force. The “deep control of harmony’s
endeavour” governs his life—it shapes his thoughts, sustains his courage, and
redeems his weariness. Fancy, or imagination, “keeps her fairy tune,” while
Hope maintains her tender smile. Through this combination of imagination and
hope, the speaker’s life itself becomes a form of music. Every act of work,
every challenge, and every day becomes illuminated with meaning. His barren
inheritance—once only a symbol of emptiness and labor—now turns into a metaphor
for the creative process itself, in which harmony and beauty can emerge from
hardship and toil.
By
the end of “Amphion,” Tennyson has transformed the myth of the ancient musician
into a modern parable of perseverance and faith. The speaker learns that the
magic once attributed to Amphion’s lyre still exists, not in the power to move
stones, but in the ability to move the human heart. Music and poetry may no
longer shape cities, but they can still build courage, hope, and inner
strength. The poem, then, is not about lamenting a lost golden age, but about
rediscovering the creative power within one’s own limitations.
Through
the steady rhythm of the verses and the quiet nobility of the speaker’s
resolution, Tennyson celebrates the eternal spirit of music—the unseen harmony
that can redeem even the most barren inheritance. The poem ends with a vision
of peace and joy, where life itself becomes a “boon,” and every hour, however
ordinary, shines with “splendour.”
Line-by-line
Paraphrase
Stanza
1
My
father left a park to me,
→ My father bequeathed me
an estate with open land,
But
it is wild and barren,
→ But the land is
uncultivated and unfruitful,
A
garden too with scarce a tree,
→ There is a garden, but it
has hardly any trees,
And
waster than a warren:
→ It is more desolate than
a rabbit warren—dry and empty.
Yet
say the neighbours when they call,
→ Yet, when the neighbours
visit and see it,
It
is not bad but good land,
→ They tell me that it is
actually good land, not worthless,
And
in it is the germ of all
→ For within it lies the
seed or potential
That
grows within the woodland.
→ Of everything that can
grow in a rich forest.
Stanza
2
O
had I lived when song was great
→ Oh, if only I had lived
in the glorious age of music and poetry,
In
days of old Amphion,
→ In the ancient times of
Amphion,
And
ta’en my fiddle to the gate,
→ And could have taken my
fiddle (violin or lyre) to the city gates,
Nor
cared for seed or scion!
→ Without having to worry
about planting or inheritance—just playing freely!
And
had I been some rustic bard
→ If only I had been a
simple country poet,
Piping
for simple pleasure,
→ Who played music merely
for the joy of it,
Whose
song grew gladder in the yard,
→ Whose music became
happier and fuller
Because
of growing leisure!
→ Because he had time and
freedom to enjoy life.
Stanza
3
But
since I am to music born,
→ But since I was born with
a natural gift for music,
And
owe my life to singing,
→ And since music is my
calling and sustains my life,
And
cannot lightly lose the morn
→ I cannot spend my
mornings lazily or idly,
By
others’ labour bringing;
→ Living off the work that
others do for me.
The
world is hard, the world is poor,
→ The world I live in is
harsh and lacking in generosity,
And
finds no mortal pleasure
→ People no longer take joy
In
growing green on wild sea-shore,
→ In the green beauty that
grows on the seashore,
Or
meadow-meads of treasure.
→ Or in the rich treasures
of meadows and fields.
Stanza
4
Yet
must I work my father’s lands,
→ Even so, I must take care
of the lands my father left me,
And
see that all is growing,
→ And make sure that
everything there begins to flourish,
And
plough the glebe with careful hands,
→ I must plough the soil
carefully and diligently,
And
watch the water flowing;
→ And keep an eye on the
irrigation and water channels.
And
if, as sometimes happens, I
→ And if it ever happens,
as it sometimes does,
Should
find the days too dreary,
→ That I grow weary or find
my days dull and joyless,
Lift
up my heart and sing thereby,
→ I will lift my heart and
begin to sing to cheer myself,
And
so be strong and cheery.
→ And in doing so, I will
regain strength and joy.
Stanza
5
For
still the music in my soul
→ Because the music within
my soul
Awakes
and lives for ever,
→ Is alive and continues to
awaken eternally,
And
still I feel the deep control
→ And I still feel its deep
and guiding influence
Of
harmony’s endeavour;
→ Of the striving for
harmony and beauty.
While
Fancy keeps her fairy tune,
→ My imagination keeps producing
its magical, dreamlike melody,
And
Hope her smile so tender,
→ And Hope continues to
smile softly and kindly upon me,
Till
all my life becomes a boon,
→ Until my whole life
itself feels like a blessed gift,
And
every hour a splendour.
→ And every single hour
shines with joy and glory.
Analysis
in Detail
Alfred,
Lord Tennyson’s “Amphion” is a reflective and symbolic poem that unites myth,
imagination, and personal philosophy in a meditation on the transforming power
of art. Drawing from the Greek legend of Amphion, who built the walls of Thebes
by the music of his lyre, Tennyson reinterprets the myth for the modern world.
In his hands, Amphion becomes not merely a figure of miraculous artistry but a
symbol of creative energy — the power of imagination and perseverance to shape
chaos into order, barrenness into beauty. The poem unfolds as an allegory for
the artist’s struggle to reconcile ideal vision with the hard demands of the
material world.
The
opening stanza sets a tone of inheritance and responsibility. The speaker
begins by describing the land left to him by his father — a “park” that is
“wild and barren” and a garden “with scarce a tree.” This desolate inheritance
can be read literally as uncultivated property, but it also operates
symbolically as the human condition or the poet’s inner world. The “wild and
barren” park mirrors a mind or soul that has potential but requires
cultivation. Yet, the neighbours insist that “it is not bad but good land,” for
“in it is the germ of all that grows within the woodland.” Their perspective
introduces a central tension: what appears empty and lifeless may, with effort
and imagination, yield abundance. This duality between the outward barrenness
and inner fertility is the foundation of the poem’s symbolic structure. The
speaker must learn to see beyond appearances, to trust in the “germ” of
possibility hidden in the wilderness — just as an artist must discover beauty
and meaning within the raw material of experience.
In
the second stanza, Tennyson shifts from the present to the idealized past. The
speaker’s lament — “O had I lived when song was great, in days of old Amphion”
— is a nostalgic yearning for a lost age of creative power. Amphion, in Greek
mythology, possessed such harmony in his music that even inanimate stones moved
to build the walls of Thebes. To the speaker, that age represents a time when
art and nature were one, when song could shape the world without labor or
struggle. The phrase “Nor cared for seed or scion” expresses a desire to live
by inspiration alone, without the burdens of practical work. He imagines
himself as a “rustic bard,” singing for “simple pleasure,” whose happiness
grows with his leisure. This pastoral ideal contrasts sharply with his present
reality — a world in which art is no longer sufficient for survival. Tennyson
captures here the modern poet’s sense of displacement: born into an industrial,
utilitarian age, he feels alienated from the sacred harmony that once bound
art, nature, and life together.
Yet,
in the third stanza, the speaker’s tone changes from longing to resolution. He
recognizes that, though “born to music,” he cannot live as Amphion did. The
world has changed — “The world is hard, the world is poor” — and it no longer
values art for its own sake. Humanity has lost the capacity to take joy in
simple growth or natural beauty; “it finds no mortal pleasure in growing green
on wild sea-shore.” This is Tennyson’s critique of modernity: a world driven by
materialism, detached from the harmonies of creation. However, the poet does
not surrender to bitterness. Instead, he accepts his duty — “Yet must I work my
father’s lands.” This acceptance is not merely practical but spiritual. The act
of ploughing the “glebe with careful hands” symbolizes the artist’s labour in
shaping meaning out of chaos. The speaker’s task is not to escape the barren
land but to redeem it through diligence and imagination. In this sense, work
becomes an extension of creativity, not its opposite.
When
the poet confesses that sometimes “the days [grow] dreary,” he voices the
universal fatigue of those who strive in obscurity or monotony. Yet he
discovers a sustaining truth: by lifting up his heart and singing, he renews
his strength. The act of singing becomes both literal and symbolic — a metaphor
for faith, creativity, and perseverance. Music here represents the inner
harmony that transforms labor into joy. Unlike Amphion’s miraculous power to
move stones, the speaker’s music moves the heart; it is an inward miracle of
resilience rather than an outward display of magic. This shift from mythic
wonder to personal endurance marks the poem’s modern sensibility. The true
miracle, Tennyson suggests, is not the music that builds cities but the spirit
that endures and creates beauty in adversity.
The
final stanza celebrates the triumph of that inner music. “For still the music
in my soul awakes and lives for ever.” The poet’s creative spirit is eternal,
untouched by weariness or worldly decay. “Harmony’s endeavour” — the striving
for order and beauty — continues to govern his life. The personified forces of
“Fancy” (imagination) and “Hope” accompany him, providing joy and light amid
toil. Through them, his life becomes “a boon,” a blessing, and “every hour a
splendour.” This closing affirmation completes the poem’s transformation: the
speaker’s barren inheritance has become a field of meaning, cultivated by faith
and imagination. He has discovered that art’s true purpose is not to escape
reality but to redeem it.
At
a deeper level, “Amphion” can also be read as Tennyson’s own poetic credo.
Writing in an era of rapid industrial change and fading Romantic idealism,
Tennyson redefines the artist’s role for the modern age. He acknowledges that
the poet no longer wields supernatural power; music no longer moves mountains
or stones. Yet, he insists that poetry retains a sacred function — to awaken
the human spirit, to transform inner desolation into beauty. The external
miracle of Amphion’s music is replaced by the inward miracle of endurance and
hope. In this transformation, Tennyson aligns himself with a new kind of
creative hero: one who labors faithfully, sings amid hardship, and finds
splendour even in the most ordinary hour.
Thus,
“Amphion” is not merely a nostalgic lament for a lost golden age but a
philosophical reflection on how art survives in a disenchanted world. Through
disciplined labour, imagination, and the sustaining power of song, the speaker
learns that beauty is not bestowed by magic but born from persistence. The poem
ends where it began — in the same landscape — but it is no longer barren. The
transformation has taken place not in the land, but in the poet himself.

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