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Tennyson's Fair Women.
The beauty of woman has ever been a favorite theme in literatue of all countries; the glowing descriptions of Indian and Persian writers, the luxurient images of Greek and Latin Poets, the passionate lays of Troubadours, Trouveres and Minnesingers, have charmed the human race in every age of the world's history. Nor has out own literature been deficient in poets who have worships at the shrine of beauty as embodied in woman. From Chaucer to Tennyson, onelong harmonious anthem hasbeen sung in honor of those who have been supreme in beauty, and who, for this cause, will be remembered as long as the sweet music of poetry is heard throughout the earth.

Chancer's "Legende of Goode Women" was written between the years 1380 and 1390, and its tender melody coming down through the ages inspired Tennyson to pay graceful homage to the sex in his "Dream of Fair Women."--The poet represents himself as having fallen asleep after reading the "Legende;" but his slumber is troubled by a vision in which the heroines of all times pass before his view. Let us observe these most beautiful apparitions as they go by, and find, if we can, their originals. The dreamer has wandered far in a noldwood, where no birds sang, no breezes stirred the leaves and where the pleasant sound of flowing waters was not heard. At length he sees a lady standing in his silent and mysterious place.

"A daughter of the gods, divinely tall, and most divinely fair. "

Surprised by her appearance and her beauty, he remains speechless, while she turning toward him, say:
"I had great beauty:ask thou not my name. No one can be more wise than destiny. Many drew swords and died. Where'er I came I brought calamity."
Gallantly he makes answer:
"No marvel, sovereign lady: in fair field Myself for such a face has boldly died,"
and turning, he appeals as if for confirmation of his boast, to one who stood near. But she, with scornful look and haughty mien, replies:
"My youth was blasted with a curse: This woman was the cause.
"I was cut off from hope in that sad place, which yet to name my spirit loathes and fears:
my father held his hand upon his face; I, blinded with my tears,
"Still strove to speak: my voice was thick with sighs
As in a dream. Dimly I could descry
The stern, black-bearded kings with wolfish eyes,
Waiting to see me die.

"The high masts flicker'd as they lay afloat;
The crouds, the temples, waver'd, and the shore;
The bright death quiver'd at the victim's
throat;
Touched: and I knew no more."

It is evident that the fates of these two
women have been in some manner connected,
and that dreadful calamities have
befallen one of them, for which the other
is responsible. But who is this fair one
who is thus charged with blasting the
youth of, and causing such agony to, her

neighbor in this quiet old forest? She
is Helen the Beautiful, and her neighbor
is Iphigeneia, the daughter of Agamemnon,
King of Mycenae.

Helen the wife of Menelaus, King of
Sparta, was carried off to Troy by Paris,
during her husband's absence. The
most eminent kings and princes of Greece
banded themselves together for her rescue.
Agamemnon, the brother of Menelaus,
was chosen leader, and after two
years of preperation the army and fleet
assembled at Aulis. But when all things
were ready for their departure a calm
fell upon the waters. They consulted
the oracle, and were informed that Agamemnon
had killed one of her stags, and
was only to be appeased by the sacrifice
of Iphigeneia, his daughter. The father
hesitated long between love for his
daughter and love of his country, but
urged on by his companions he gave his
consent to the sacrifice. Iphigeneia was
sent for on the pretext of being married
to Achilles. When she arrived and
learned of the deceptionthat had been
practiced upon her, she saw the preparations
for her death, she besaught her
father to save her, but in vain. "The
stern, black-bearded kings" assembled
to witness the offering, and the priest,
with knife in hand, was about to strike
the fatal blow, when Artemis, relenting,
carried her away, and a large stag was
found in her place. At this moment the
wind freshened and the fleet sailed for
Troy. Ten long years were consumed
in its overthrow, and Helen was restored
to her husband. After his death she is
said to have been hung by Polyxo,
Queen of Rhodes, in revenge for her
husband, who was killed in the war.

"Where'er I came
I brought calamity"

No truer words did she ever speak; let
them be her epitaph. It is no wonder
that Iphigeneia, compelled by some perverse
fate to meet the cause of all her
woes in this place, should scorn her
from her inmost soul. Helen quails before
her and sadly replies,

"I would the white, cold, heavy-plunging foam,
Whirl'd by the wind, had roll'd me deep
below,
Then when I left my home"

Our dreamer, still meditationg on this
interview, is startled by some one imperiously
bidding him come to her.Turning
in the direction of the voice he sees
"a queen whith swarthy cheeks and bold
black eyes," who proves to be Cleopatra.
She regrets that she has no men to govern
in the wood, asks where Mark Antony
is, and sighsfor her former life in
Egypt. Opening her robe and pointing
to the spot where the asp had stung her,
she exultingly exclaims:

"I died a queen. The Roman soldier found
me lying dead, my crown about my brows,
A name forever! lying robed and crown'd
Worthy a Roman spouse."

Fascinated by her beauty and charmed
by her voice, he remains silent, but is
at length aroused by

"A noise of some one coming thro' the lawn
And singing clearer than the crested bird
That claps his wings at dawn."

This singer is the daughter of Jephthah,
the Gileadite, who, on going to fight.
the Ammonites, vowed that if God would
deliver them into his hands he would
offer to Him as a sacrifice whatever first

came from the doors of his house to
meet him on his return. God heard his
vow and answered his prayer. When
he was returning in triumph, and as he
drew near to his house, his daughter
his only child- came forth to meet him
"with timbrel song." The agonized
father rent his clothes and told her
of his vow. Unlike Iphigeneia at Aulis,
she showed no tears, she made no frantic
appeals for her life, but dutifully, willingly
and heroically she offered herself to satisfy
the vow. The question as to whether
Jephthah actully offered his daughter
as a sacrifice to God, or whether he
only consecrated her entire life in
perpetual virginity to His service, has no
place here; the words of the poem, however
favor the former supposition.
Sweetly singing, she passes on her way
through the wood and leaves the dreamer
standing pensively near the Egyptian
queen.

"Alas! alas!" a low voice murmured,
"Turn and look at me." It is Rosamond
the Fair who speaks. She was
the daughter of Walter, Lord Clifford,
and became the favorite of King Henry
II. of England, who kept her at Woodstock,
where he frequently visited her.
His queen, Eleanor, is said to have discovered
this amour and compelled the
unfortunate Rosamond to poison herself.
Cleopatra, scornfully turning her lustrous
eyes upon this unhappy one, said

"Oh, you tamely died!
You should have clung to Fulvia's waist, and
Thrust the dagger thro' her side."

Notice here the connection in which
Fulvia is brought upon the scene. She
was the wife of Mark Antony, and Cleopatra,
supposing Rosamond's case to be
her own, means that she would have
slain Eleanor before yielding to her, just
as hse would have murdered Fulvia, had
she interfered between Mark Antony and
herself. But darkness was fading rapidly
away, and morn has broadened in the
eastern sky ere the poet saw her-

"WHo clasped in her last trance
Her murdered father's head."

"Or her who knew that Love can vanquish
Death,
Who, kneeling, with one arm about her king
Drew forth the poison with her balmy breath,
Sweet as new buds in spring."

These two beautiful examples of woman's
love belong to English history.-
The first is Mrs.Margaret Roper, the
eldest daughter of SIr Thomas More,
who was beheaded by order of Henry
VIII. in 1535. In conformity with the
sentence, his head was exposed for fourteen
days on London bridge and was
then about to be thrown into the Thames
when Mrs. Roper purchased it and kept
it in a leaden box until her death, nine
years later, and was burried with it in her
arms. Truely a noble example of filial
affection.

The seconed, she "who knew that
Love can vanquish Death," is Eleanor,
Queen of Edward I., who, when her
husband was wounded in Palestine by a
poisoned arrow, saved his life by sucking
the poison from the wound, regardless
of all considerations of personal
saftey. At least, such is the story told
of her. Another version of it is, that
Edward was wounded by a poisoned dagger
in the hands of an assassin who, on
the pretense of delivering imprtant letters,
gained admittance to his chamber
and stabbed him as he was looking over