Ulysses by Tennyson – Summary & Analysis

In Short

• Ulysses, the great Greek hero as depicted by Tennyson, is tired of living an idle life in Ithaca. He has gained knowledge and experience from his previous travels and wants to set sail again and know the unknown.
• Ulysses is a man of action. He describes his colourful past eloquently in a nostalgic mood. The unknown world beckons him for adventure. So, he feels restless.
• Ulysses hands over the reins of his kingdom to his son, Telemachus. He thinks that Telemachus will be a good ruler and will do his duties properly.
• Ulysses calls his trusted band of sailors to set sail again. They will explore the unknown region together. Ulysses wants to explore till his last breath.

Ulysses by Tennyson – Line by line analysis

"It little profits that an idle king, / By this still hearth, among these barren crags,"

Ulysses begins by rejecting idleness. Being an inactive king at home profits him little. He sits by a "still" (quiet, unmoving) hearth, surrounded by "barren crags" (rocky hills). This setting feels dead and empty. The opening establishes his restlessness and disgust with comfort.

"Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole / Unequal laws unto a savage race,"

At home, he is "match'd with an aged wife"—Penelope, now old. He distributes laws ("mete and dole") to his people, whom he calls a "savage race." The description shows disdain for both his wife and his subjects. He feels trapped by domestic duty and bored by ruling people he sees as inferior.

"That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me."

His subjects mindlessly hoard, sleep, and eat. They do not truly "know" him, meaning they do not understand his true nature or worth. Ulysses feels isolated even when surrounded by others. They live simple, animal-like lives; he needs something more.

"I cannot rest from travel: I will drink / Life to the lees:"

"I cannot rest from travel" is the poem's central declaration. "Drinking life to the lees" means consuming life fully, down to the last drops at the bottom of the cup. He wants not safety but intensity and fullness of experience.

"All times I have enjoy'd / Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those / That loved me, and alone,"

Ulysses recalls his past: he has felt great joy and great pain, both with companions and alone. He emphasizes the greatness of his experience, not the comfort of it. Suffering is as valuable as joy because both represent truly living.

"on shore, and when / Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades / Vext the dim sea:"

He has endured storms. The "Hyades" are stars whose rising was thought to bring rain. "Scudding drifts" (fast-moving clouds) and "vext" (troubled) seas show violent nature. He has survived danger, and that survival proves his greatness.

"I am become a name;"

A brief, powerful line: he is now legend, not merely a person. His fame has transformed him into a symbol. This fame satisfies him, but it also drives him to do more: a name must be earned and renewed through action.

"For always roaming with a hungry heart / Much have I seen and known;"

His heart always hungers for more. This hunger has taken him everywhere, so he has "seen and known" much. Knowledge and experience are inseparable from movement and exploration for him.

"cities of men / And manners, climates, councils, governments, / Myself not least, but honour'd of them all;"

He has encountered diverse human societies and been honored among them. "Myself not least" shows his pride: he was not just a visitor but one of the great ones. This pride is both his strength and his flaw.

"And drunk delight of battle with my peers, / Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy."

At Troy, he tasted battle's delight with equals ("peers"). The poetry here is vivid: "ringing plains" suggests the clash of weapons, and "windy" adds movement and life to the landscape. Battle at Troy was his greatest glory.

"I am a part of all that I have met;"

This famous line claims that experience creates identity. Everything he has encountered has shaped him. He is made of his travels, not just his birthplace or office.

"Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' / Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades / For ever and forever when I move."

An arch is a doorway. Through experience, he glimpses an untraveled world beyond. This untouched world "fades / For ever and forever" as he moves toward it, always receding. No matter how much he experiences, there is always more, always something just beyond reach. This creates an eternal drive.

"How dull it is to pause, to make an end, / To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!"

He calls idleness "dull" and describes inactivity as "rusting"—a tool losing its value when not used. "Shine in use" means to gleam through active work. He sees himself as an instrument meant to be used, not stored away.

"As tho' to breathe were life! Life piled on life / Were all too little,"

Simply breathing is not truly living. Even a stack of lives would not be enough for him. He wants not just existence but intensity and achievement. Time is never enough for his ambitions.

"and of one to me / Little remains:"

He has little life left. Age is catching up. Yet instead of making him accept rest, this urgency spurs him onward. Time's scarcity makes action more necessary, not less.

"but every hour is saved / From that eternal silence, something more,"

"Eternal silence" is death. Every remaining hour rescues him from death momentarily. Each hour brings "something more"—new experience, new knowledge. To live is to keep death at bay through constant action.

"A bringer of new things; and vile it were / For some three suns to store and hoard myself,"

"Some three suns" means just a few days. He could not endure even three days of storing himself away unused. That would be "vile" (shameful). His nature demands constant outpouring, not gathering or keeping.

"And this gray spirit yearning in desire / To follow knowledge like a sinking star, / Beyond the utmost bound of human thought."

His spirit (though gray with age) yearns to follow knowledge like a star sinking toward the horizon, disappearing beyond the limit of human reach. Knowledge itself becomes a guide pulling him forward, eternally beyond grasp.

"This is my son, mine own Telemachus,"

He turns now to justify his departure by introducing his son. Telemachus represents duty and stability—everything Ulysses himself rejects. Yet Ulysses respects him.

"To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,— / Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil / This labour, by slow prudence to make mild / A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees / Subdue them to the useful and the good."

Ulysses trusts Telemachus with the kingdom. His son will use "slow prudence" (careful wisdom) to gradually ("soft degrees") make the wild ("rugged") people gentle and obedient. Telemachus is suited to steady rule; Ulysses is not.

"Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere / Of common duties, decent not to fail / In offices of tenderness, and pay / Meet adoration to my household gods,"

Telemachus is "blameless"—perfect for normal life. He is "centred in the sphere / Of common duties"—content with routine. He will care for the household and religious duties. He is everything Ulysses is not.

"When I am gone. He works his work, I mine."

This brief line shows acceptance: each has his own path. Telemachus will do his duty well. Ulysses must follow his own nature. The separation is right and necessary.

"There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail: / There gloom the dark, broad seas."

The scene shifts. The harbor is ready; the ship waits. The sea is described as "dark" and "broad," suggesting both danger and possibility. The ship is alive ("puffs her sail"), eager as Ulysses is eager.

"My mariners, / Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me—"

He addresses his sailors. They have labored, worked, and thought alongside him. They are true companions who understand his nature.

"That ever with a frolic welcome took / The thunder and the sunshine,"

"Frolic" means playful and lighthearted. They greeted storms ("thunder") and calm ("sunshine") with the same spirit—living fully in every condition. They match his adventurous temperament.

"and opposed / Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old;"

They held their hearts and minds free, never bending to tyrants. Now they are old, but that fact does not stop him from calling them to adventure.

"Old age hath yet his honour and his toil."

Age still offers honor and work. Being old does not remove the possibility of noble action. Instead, it makes noble action more striking and more precious.

"Death closes all: but something ere the end, / Some work of noble note, may yet be done,"

Death will eventually end everything. But before it comes, noble deeds are still possible. Age does not change the need to act greatly. In fact, the nearness of death makes one final great deed even more necessary.

"Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods."

He and his men once fought at Troy against forces of godlike power. They were worthy then; they are worthy now. One final voyage should match their past heroism.

"The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks: / The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs:"

Evening is coming. The day ends, the moon rises. This suggests time passing, life waning, the approach of death. The imagery becomes darker, more aware of mortality.

"the deep / Moans round with many voices."

The sea "moans" with "many voices," perhaps echoing other souls, other stories. The sea becomes almost alive and calling, suggesting both danger and a kind of communion with others who have voyaged.

"Come, my friends, / 'T is not too late to seek a newer world."

His call is urgent but not desperate. "It is not too late"—time remains. They can seek what they have never seen. Age does not make seeking impossible; it makes the seeking more meaningful because time is short.

"Push off, and sitting well in order smite / The sounding furrows;"

They will row in rhythm, striking the water ("sounding furrows") with oars. The image is of coordinated effort, bodies working together, the ship cutting through the sea.

"for my purpose holds / To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths / Of all the western stars, until I die."

His purpose is fixed: to sail westward, beyond the sunset and beyond even the stars that bathe in the western ocean. He will sail "until I die." This is not casual adventure; it is a final voyage that ends only with death.

"It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:"

Death may come quickly by drowning. The gulfs (deep oceans) could pull them under. He acknowledges the danger without fear.

"It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, / And see the great Achilles, whom we knew."

Or they might reach the Happy Isles (afterlife or mythical blessed land) and meet Achilles, the greatest warrior of Troy. Even in the afterlife, meeting heroes appeals to him. Life and death hold equal possibility.

"Tho' much is taken, much abides;"

Much has been lost to age and time. Yet much remains—strength of will, desire for knowledge, capacity for action. Loss does not negate what remains.

"and tho' / We are not now that strength which in old days / Moved earth and heaven,"

They are not as physically powerful as they once were. But something more important remains.

"that which we are, we are; / One equal temper of heroic hearts,"

This famous couplet is the poem's philosophical core. They are what they are: people with heroic hearts that match each other in spirit. Identity is not physical strength but inner quality.

"Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will / To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

Time and fate weaken the body, but the will remains strong. The final four verbs define his life: to strive (effort), to seek (exploration), to find (discovery), and to not yield (refusal to surrender). These verbs repeat throughout the poem; they sum up its meaning. This last line has become one of the most famous in English poetry, expressing the refusal to accept limits.

Ulysses by Tennyson – Word notes

• Profit: Gain, benefit, use.
• Still: Quiet, motionless.
• Barren: Bare, empty, unable to produce.
• Mete and dole: Distribute, allot.
• Hoard: Gather and keep in secret.
• Lees: Sediment at the bottom of wine; the last, often bitter, dregs.
• Hyades: Star cluster whose rising was thought to bring rain.
• Vext: Troubled, annoyed, or disturbed.
• Arch: Curved opening; doorway or gateway.
• Unburnish'd: Not polished, not shining or maintained.
• Telemachus: Ulysses' son, left to rule Ithaca.
• Prudence: Careful wisdom, caution.
• Soft degrees: Gentle steps or gradual progress.
• Frolic: Playful, lighthearted.
• Happy Isles: Mythical blessed land or paradise after death.
• Temper: Nature, quality, disposition.

Publication

"Ulysses" was written by Alfred, Lord Tennyson in 1833, just after the death of his close friend Arthur Henry Hallam. Hallam's sudden death deeply affected Tennyson and led him to question the meaning of grief, loss, and how to continue living. Although Tennyson wrote the poem in 1833, it was not published until 1842, in his second volume of Poems. This delay means the poem had time to mature before appearing to the public. "Ulysses" became one of Tennyson's most famous and most-quoted poems, especially the final lines about striving and not yielding. The poem has been read in many ways: as Tennyson's personal response to grief, as a statement about the Victorian value of progress and effort, and as a universal meditation on aging and mortality. Its popularity grew throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, making it a cornerstone of English literary tradition.

Context

Tennyson wrote "Ulysses" during the Victorian era, a time of industrial progress, empire, and belief in human advancement. The Victorians valued effort, improvement, and forward movement—ideas that match Ulysses's refusal to rest. The poem was also deeply personal: Arthur Hallam's death forced Tennyson to think about how to live meaningfully after loss. "Ulysses" can be read as Tennyson's answer: honor the past (Hallam, Troy, past voyages) but do not be trapped by grief. Keep moving forward. In this sense, the poem is about both personal sorrow and Victorian optimism. The myth of Ulysses (Odysseus) was well-known; most versions show him returning home and settling down. Tennyson's version is revolutionary: his Ulysses refuses rest and domesticity. This reflects a shift in Victorian thought toward activity, ambition, and the refusal to accept limits.

Setting

The poem's setting shifts from domestic to seafaring. It opens in Ulysses's palace in Ithaca, where he sits by the hearth surrounded by "barren crags"—a setting that feels dead and confining. His wife is there, his subjects, his son; yet the setting empties and bores him. Then the poem moves to the harbor, where the ship waits with its sail "puffing," and the sea spreads out dark and broad. The evening is coming; the long day wanes, the moon climbs. This shift from still, barren indoors to active, dangerous seas shows the contrast between stagnation and life. The final setting is imaginative: beyond the sunset, beyond the western stars, in unknown lands or even the mythical Happy Isles. The physical journey mirrors the inner journey from despair to renewed purpose.

Title

The title "Ulysses" is simply the name of the legendary Greek hero (Odysseus in Greek). By choosing this name alone, Tennyson emphasizes the character and his qualities over any particular plot. The poem is not about Ulysses returning home (which is the traditional story) but about his refusal to stay home. The title gives readers familiarity—everyone knows Ulysses as a great wanderer—while the poem subverts expectations. Readers expect the poem to show Ulysses content at last, at peace. Instead, they find him restless and eager to sail again. The simplicity of the title mirrors the poem's focus on one character's inner life and philosophy. "Ulysses" is also a name associated with heroism, struggle, and the clash of will against fate. By using just the name, Tennyson invites readers to discover who this Ulysses is and what drives him.

Form and language

"Ulysses" is a dramatic monologue—one person speaking his thoughts and feelings to an implied listener. The poem has 64 lines of blank verse (unrhymed iambic pentameter), the traditional form for serious poetry in English. The steady meter gives a sense of control and gravity, even as the speaker expresses restlessness. The language mixes high poetic diction with more conversational moments. Phrases like "I cannot rest from travel" and "We are not now that strength" feel almost like someone thinking aloud. Yet phrases like "this gray spirit yearning in desire" and "the arch where through gleams that untravell'd world" are elaborately poetic. This mixture keeps the poem from sounding either too stiff or too casual. The imagery is concrete: the hearth, the crags, the ship, the sea, the stars. These real details ground Ulysses's philosophical reflections. The language also features parallelism—repeated structures like "I have...have..." and "to strive, to seek, to find"—which creates rhythm and emphasis beyond the basic meter.

Meter and rhyme

"Ulysses" is written in unrhymed iambic pentameter, called blank verse. This form has ten syllables per line, with five iambic feet (unstressed-stressed patterns): "It LIT-tle PROF-its THAT an I-dle KING." The steadiness of blank verse creates a measured, grave tone suitable to serious philosophy. However, Tennyson varies the meter slightly at key moments to create emphasis. For example, "I am become a name" uses only four stresses instead of five, making the line shorter and the statement sharper. Similarly, "Much have I seen and known" reverses the normal iambic pattern, creating a different rhythm that catches attention. The lack of rhyme allows focus to stay on meaning rather than sound patterns. Without rhyme, each line must stand more independently, and thoughts can develop across multiple lines without being forced to end at line boundaries. This freedom allows Tennyson's long, flowing sentences that pursue a complex argument across ten or twenty lines. The form perfectly matches the content: steady, serious, but with room for individual variation and emphasis.

Ulysses by Tennyson – Themes

Refusal of idleness and the need for action

Ulysses cannot accept rest, comfort, or idleness. "It little profits" to be an inactive king; he finds sitting by the hearth "dull." Action, struggle, and effort are what make life real for him. This theme reflects Tennyson's Victorian context, where progress, work, and continuous improvement were valued. But it is also deeply personal: faced with grief after Hallam's death, Tennyson seems to argue that the answer is not surrender but continued effort. Even in old age, even facing death, action is noble and necessary. The theme also suggests that some people are made for activity, not rest. Ulysses is one such person. For him, to stop is to rust, to decay, to cease being fully alive. The poem suggests that humans have different natures; Ulysses's nature demands constant motion.

Experience, knowledge, and the endless quest

Ulysses defines himself through experience: "I am a part of all that I have met." Knowledge drives him more than power or comfort. He has "seen and known" much and wants to follow "knowledge like a sinking star, / Beyond the utmost bound of human thought." The pursuit of knowledge is endless—the star sinks forever beyond reach. This theme elevates the human mind and its curiosity as the highest goods. It suggests that full life means constant learning and discovery, not the accumulation of wealth or the maintenance of power. Even as Ulysses acknowledges his physical decline, his mind and spirit still "yearn in desire" for new knowledge. The theme argues that the intellect and will are more important than the body, and that the quest itself—not the arrival—gives life meaning.

Age, mortality, and dignity

The poem does not shy away from age and approaching death. Ulysses is old; "much is taken" by time and fate. Yet the poem insists that age does not remove dignity or the possibility of greatness. "Old age hath yet his honour and his toil." The theme accepts physical decline while celebrating spiritual and intellectual strength. Ulysses's will remains "strong" even if his body is weak. The awareness of approaching death ("Death closes all") makes life more urgent, not less. Because time is limited, every remaining hour matters. The theme suggests that heroism in old age—continuing to strive when rest would be easier—is greater than heroism in youth. The poem does not deny death but refuses to let it dominate life while life remains.

Ulysses by Tennyson – Symbols

The hearth and home

The hearth at home symbolizes comfort, rest, domesticity, and the known. It is "still" (motionless) and surrounded by "barren crags"—empty and dead. Home represents everything that bores Ulysses: routine, predictability, acceptance of limits. His wife (Penelope) and his subjects are part of this settled world. The hearth is warm, safe, and it is exactly what he rejects. As a symbol, home stands for the easy choice, the conventional life, settling into one's assigned place. Ulysses's rejection of the hearth shows his refusal of the ordinary path. For him, domesticity is a kind of death—being "unburnish'd," unused, stored away. The symbol emphasizes that the call to adventure is a call away from safety.

The sea and the ship

The sea symbolizes the unknown, danger, possibility, and freedom. It is "dark and broad," suggesting both mystery and vastness. The ship is alive ("puffs her sail") and waits ready for adventure. As symbols, they represent the realm of possibility and action. The sea cannot be fully known or controlled; it is unstable and hazardous. Yet these qualities make it attractive. The sea is the opposite of the still, barren hearth. It promises discovery and challenge. The voyage westward ("beyond the sunset, and the baths / Of all the western stars") suggests a journey beyond normal limits, even beyond life itself. The sea and ship thus symbolize not just physical travel but also the refusal to accept conventional boundaries.

The sinking star and untraveled world

The star sinking toward the horizon, beyond which lies an untraveled world whose "margin fades / For ever and forever," symbolizes knowledge itself and the eternal human drive to learn and discover. The star is always receding; the untraveled world always remains just beyond reach. This symbol expresses the paradox of human knowledge: no matter how much we learn, there is always more. The quest can never be finished. The symbol is hopeful—there is always something new to seek—and melancholic—the goal can never be finally reached. For Ulysses, this eternal incompleteness is not tragic; it is what makes life worth living. Without an unreachable horizon, life would be finite and finished. With it, life remains open and full of purpose.

Ulysses by Tennyson – Literary devices

• Dramatic monologue: Ulysses speaks directly, revealing his character, feelings, and philosophy. We know him entirely through his own words. The form creates intimacy and allows readers to follow his passionate argument.
• Metaphor: "I will drink / Life to the lees" compares life to wine and living fully to drinking even the bitter dregs at the bottom. This shows his hunger for complete experience, even the bitter parts.
• Metaphor: "all experience is an arch wherethro' / Gleams that untravell'd world" makes experience a doorway to future knowledge. The arch suggests passage and crossing into new territories.
• Personification: The sea "moans" and has "many voices," as if alive and speaking. The ship "puffs her sail," as if breathing and eager. These give the natural world human qualities and show how Ulysses feels communion with them.
• Imagery: Vivid sensory images like "ringing plains of windy Troy," "dark, broad seas," and "lights twinkle from the rocks" make the poem's world concrete and visual.
• Parallel structure: "To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield" repeats the infinitive form, creating rhythm and emphasis. The parallel structure makes these four actions feel equally important and equally binding.
• Allusion: References to Achilles, Troy, and the legendary adventures place Ulysses in a tradition of heroic stories. The allusions elevate the poem's significance.