Get out the microscope, because we’re going through this poem line-by-line.
Lines 2541-2552
Doors, where my heart was used to beat
So quickly, not as one that weeps
I come once more; the city sleeps;
I smell the meadow in the street;
I hear a chirp of birds; I see
Betwixt the black fronts long-withdrawn
A light-blue lane of early dawn,
And think of early days and thee,
And bless thee, for thy lips are bland,
And bright the friendship of thine eye;
And in my thoughts with scarce a sigh
I take the pressure of thine hand.
- The doors in the first stanza are probably the doors to the house where Arthur once lived.
- It's interesting that now the speaker is coming to this place "not as one that weeps." The big take-away here is that he's way less sad than the last time he darkened this guy's door.
- It's clear he's once again visiting the places where his friend once was, but this time with a new and improved outlook.
- Even though Arthur is now gone, the speaker feels "the pressure of [his] hand."
- Of course, this plays into the pattern of imagery you've probably noticed by now: of things entwining and hands clasping (check out "Symbols, Imagery, Wordplay" for other examples).
- Here, it's the imagined pressure of Arthur's hand in his, but it seems to be no less important to Tennyson than if it were the real thing.
- He's definitely on the mental mend.