Yesterday, my British literature students taught Tennyson’s poetry to each other. The student who discussed “The Lotos-Eaters” did a fine job drawing attention to the apathy conveyed in these lines:
And sweet it was to dream of Fatherland
Of child, and wife, and slave; but evermore
Most weary seem’d the sea, weary the oar
Weary the wandering fields of barren foam.
Then some one said, “We will return no more”