Favourite Poems: The Owl by Tennyson

Tennyson's early work "The Owl" is a delightful vignette, the poetic equivalent to a miniature in art. Even though some of the lines puzzle me (why is the stream dumb? why is the sail whirring?), its rustic simplicity never fails to please. It's both matter-of-fact and idyllic at once.

I read once, in a biography of Tennyson, that he was remarkable for his observation of nature, and invariably accurate when he described it in his poetry. Not that this little poem would have required much from those observational powers, I'm sure.

My favourite passage from this poem is undoubtedly: "When merry milkmaids click the latch and rarely smells the new-mown hay". It's a glimpse of rural life, not only as idyllic, but as Arcadian and blissful. And the sound of "merry milkmaids clink the latch" is very pleasing.

Funnily enough, I always remembered the refrain of this poem as: "The wise owl in the belfry sits", not "the white owl". Honestly, I think I prefer "wise"!

The poem is obviously heavily dependent on repetition, and is all the better for it.

When cats run home and light is come,

And dew is cold upon the ground,
And the far-off stream is dumb,
And the whirring sail goes round,
And the whirring sail goes round;
Alone and warming his five wits,
The white owl in the belfry sits.

When merry milkmaids click the latch,

And rarely smells the new-mown hay,
And the cock hath sung beneath the thatch
Twice or thrice his roundelay,
Twice or thrice his roundelay;
Alone and warming his five wits,
The white owl in the belfry sits.