{"id":5407,"date":"2006-10-30T15:32:40","date_gmt":"2006-10-30T20:32:40","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/?p=5407"},"modified":"2020-05-18T14:59:33","modified_gmt":"2020-05-18T18:59:33","slug":"the-lotos-eaters","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/archives\/5407","title":{"rendered":"“The Lotos Eaters”"},"content":{"rendered":"

Lotus. <\/strong> A plant of several genera; as, the lotus of the lotus-eaters, probably a tree found in Northern Africa (Zizyphus lotus), the fruit of which is mildly sweet. It was fabled by the ancients to make strangers who ate of it forget their native country, or lose all desire to return to it. A lotus-eater<\/strong> is one who gives himself up to pleasure-seeking. \u2014 Webster, 1882<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

<\/p>\n

     
\n \u201cCourage!\u201d was the first word under than, and breathlessly Laura read… – Little Town on the Prairie, Chapter 12, “Snug for Winter”<\/em><\/p>\n

I<\/span>n Little Town on the Prairie<\/em> (Chapter 12, “Snug for Winter”), Laura Ingalls finds a copy of Tennyson’s Poems <\/em>hidden in Ma’s bureau drawer. Laura reads a portion of the poem “The Lotus Eaters” before realizing the book must have been hidden there as a Christmas present for her. She keeps the secret, and later receives the book as a gift (see Chapter 19, “The Whirl of Gaiety”). “The Lotus Eaters” was by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892). It first appeared in his 1842 two-volume work, Poems<\/em><\/a>. In the linked volume, “The Lotus Eaters” is on page 29. The poem is transcribed below.<\/p>\n

A lotus-eater became known as one who gave themselves up to pleasure instead of hard work, a hard concept for young Laura Ingalls to come to terms with. The navigation button shows an 1882 painting illustrating the idea. <\/p>\n

The Lotos Eaters<\/strong>
\nby Alfred, Lord Tennyson<\/p>\n

“Courage!” he said, and pointed toward the land,
\n“This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon.”
\nIn the afternoon they came unto a land
\nIn which it seemed always afternoon.
\nAll round the coast the languid air did swoon,
\nBreathing like one that hath a weary dream.
\nFull-faced above the valley stood the moon;
\nAnd like a downward smoke, the slender stream
\nAlong the cliff to fall and pause and fall did seem.<\/p>\n

A land of streams! Some, like a downward smoke,
\nSlow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go;
\nAnd some through wavering lights and shadows broke,
\nRolling a slumberous sheet of foam below.
\nThey saw the gleaming river seaward flow
\nFrom the inner land: far off, three mountain-tops,
\nThree silent pinnacles of aged snow,
\nStood sunset-flushed: and, dewed with showery drops,
\nUp-clomb the shadowy pine above the woven copse.<\/p>\n

The charmed sunset lingered low adown
\nIn the red West: through mountain clefts the dale
\nWas seen far inland, and the yellow down
\nBordered with palm, and many a winding vale
\nAnd meadow, set with slender galingale;
\nA land where all things always seemed the same!
\nAnd round about the keel with faces pale,
\nDark faces pale against that rosy flame,
\nThe mild-eyed melancholy Lotus-eaters came.<\/p>\n

Branches they bore of that enchanted stem,
\nLaden with flower and fruit, whereof they gave
\nTo each, but whoso did receive of them,
\nAnd taste, to him the gushing of the wave
\nFar far away did seem to mourn and rave
\nOn alien shores; and if his fellow spake,
\nHis voice was thin, as voices from the grave;
\nAnd deep-asleep he seemed, yet all awake,
\nAnd music in his ears his beating heart did make.<\/p>\n

They sat them down upon the yellow sand,
\nBetween the sun and moon upon the shore;
\nAnd sweet it was to dream of Fatherland,
\nOf child, and wife, and slave; but evermore
\nMost weary seemed the sea, weary the oar,
\nWeary the wandering fields of barren foam.
\nThen some one said, “We will return no more;”
\nAnd all at once they sang, “Our island home
\nIs far beyond the wave; we will no longer roam.”<\/p>\n

     
\n
\nThe Lotos Eaters \/ The Lotos-Eaters <\/strong> (LTP 12, 19), see also<\/i> Tennyson’s Poems<\/a>
\n     <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Tennyson poem.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":7953,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[635],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5407"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5407"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5407\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13348,"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5407\/revisions\/13348"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/7953"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5407"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5407"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.pioneergirl.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5407"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}