To Victor Hugo

by Alfred Lord Tennyson

　　

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Victor in Drama, Victor in Romance, Cloud-weaver of phantasmal hopes and fears, French of the French, and Lord of human tears; Child-lover; Bard whose fame-lit laurels glance Darkening the wreaths of all that would advance, Beyond our strait, their claim to be thy peers; Weird Titan by thy winter weight of years As yet unbroken, Stormy voice of France! Who dost not love our England–so they say; I know not–England, France, all man to be Will make one people ere man’s race be run: And I, desiring that diviner day, Yield thee full thanks for thy full courtesy To younger England in the boy my son.

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