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Author: Linda Sue Grimes

  • Edgar Lee Masters’ “Reuben Pantier” and “Emily Sparks”

    Image: Edgar Lee Masters https://www.best-poems.net/edgar_lee_masters/index.html#google_vignette
    Image: Edgar Lee Masters

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Reuben Pantier” and “Emily Sparks”

    Reuben Pantier’s colorful character helps dramatize the power of spiritual love for healing the mind, heart, and soul, even through the distance of miles and decades. Emily Sparks reports that one young student—Reuben Pantier—who suffered a dysfunctional home-life needed her prayers and care even more than many of the others.

    Introduction and Text of “Reuben Pantier”

    In Edgar Lee Masters’ American classic Spoon River Anthology the epitaph of “Reuben Pantier,” son of Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Pantier, tells Reuben’s story as he addresses his high school teacher, Miss Emily Sparks. (Emily’s story follows.)

    Reuben Pantier 

    Well, Emily Sparks, your prayers were not wasted,  
    Your love was not all in vain.  
    I owe whatever I was in life
    To your hope that would not give me up,
    To your love that saw me still as good.
    Dear Emily Sparks, let me tell you the story.
    I pass the effect of my father and mother;  
    The milliner’s daughter made me trouble  
    And out I went in the world,  
    Where I passed through every peril known
    Of wine and women and joy of life.
    One night, in a room in the Rue de Rivoli,  
    I was drinking wine with a black-eyed cocotte,  
    And the tears swam into my eyes.  
    She thought they were amorous tears and smiled
    For thought of her conquest over me.
    But my soul was three thousand miles away,
    In the days when you taught me in Spoon River.
    And just because you no more could love me,
    Nor pray for me, nor write me letters,
    The eternal silence of you spoke instead.
    And the black-eyed cocotte took the tears for hers,
    As well as the deceiving kisses I gave her.  
    Somehow, from that hour, I had a new vision—  
    Dear Emily Sparks!

    Interpretive Reading of “Reuben Pantier” and “Emily Sparks”

    Commentary on “Reuben Pantier”

    Reuben Pantier’s colorful character helps dramatize the power of spiritual love for healing the mind, heart, and soul, even through the distance of miles and decades. 

    First Movement:  Remembering Her Prayer

    Well, Emily Sparks, your prayers were not wasted,  
    Your love was not all in vain.  
    I owe whatever I was in life
    To your hope that would not give me up,
    To your love that saw me still as good.

    Reuben Pantier, addressing his former teacher, Emily Sparks, reveals that the teacher had prayed for her student and always believed in his good nature.  His opening remark hints that he did not move through this life as untroubled as he might have liked, but that with the good will of his former teacher, he has been able to salvage some self esteem.

    Thus, Reuben tells Miss Sparks that she had not prayed for him in vain and that her care for him had not been a waste of her time and effort.  He further asserts that he remains indebted to her for offering sheltering love and hope.  He thanks her for seeing the good in him, even though he might not have thought himself good at the time.

    Second Movement:  A Sad Childhood

    Dear Emily Sparks, let me tell you the story.
    I pass the effect of my father and mother;  
    The milliner’s daughter made me trouble  
    And out I went in the world,  
    Where I passed through every peril known
    Of wine and women and joy of life.

    In the second movement, Reuben tells his “story” to Miss Sparks.  He managed to survive the withering childhood that might have blighted the life of one less strong willed.  As readers have experienced in his parents epitaphs, his childhood must have been blighted by their selfish behavior, especially his mother.

    But his parents formed a dysfunctional couple whose example would have proved negative for children.  Nevertheless, Reuben claims that he survived this negative environment.

    After “pass[ing] the effect of [his] father and mother,” however, he was caused great difficulty in a relationship with “the milliner’s daughter.”  Leaving Spoon River and going out into the world, he met with all sorts of evil and was ensnared in a dangerous lifestyle.  He became a womanizer and one given to debauchery.

    Third Movement:  Mistaken Tears

    One night, in a room in the Rue de Rivoli,  
    I was drinking wine with a black-eyed cocotte,  
    And the tears swam into my eyes.  
    She thought they were amorous tears and smiled
    For thought of her conquest over me.

    Finally, Reuben gets to the heart of his “story”:  one night he finds himself in a Paris hotel room with a “dark-eyed cocotte.”  The prostitute sees that Reuben’s eyes have become brimmed with tears, and she thinks he is crying “amorous tears” for her.  He reports that she thought his tears showed her power over him, or as he puts it, “for thought of her conquest over me.”

    Fourth Movement:  Spiritual Love Washes through Him

    But my soul was three thousand miles away,
    In the days when you taught me in Spoon River.
    And just because you no more could love me,
    Nor pray for me, nor write me letters,
    The eternal silence of you spoke instead.

    Reuben then declaims that his not with the prostitute but many mile away and many years back to the time when he was a student of Miss Emily’s.  Thus his heart and mind were not with the prostitute in France but back with his former teacher in his old home town of Spoon River.

    Reuben then declares that even though he was no longer in the physical presence of the one person who showed him care and attention, his soul became aware of the love she had shown him, and “the eternal silence of you spoke instead.”

    Fifth Movement:  A Change of Vision and Heart

    And the black-eyed cocotte took the tears for hers,
    As well as the deceiving kisses I gave her.  
    Somehow, from that hour, I had a new vision—  
    Dear Emily Sparks!

    The prostitute’s mistaken belief that Reuben cared for her motivated him to understand that the reality of spiritual love is stronger and more satisfying than the false affection of a physical relationship.  

    Thus from that time forward, his life had changed for the better.  He saw the world in a different light—a spiritual light.  And he realized that it was the prayers and love he had been afforded by “Dear Emily Sparks” that sparked his new understanding.

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Emily Sparks”

    The poem,”Emily Sparks,” in Edgar Lee Masters’ Spoon River Anthology is the fourth entry the sequence of five epitaphs featuring a dysfunctional couple, their son, and the latter’s influential mentor.  The sequence concludes with a report from “Trainor the Druggist.”  

    Introduction and Text of “Emily Sparks”

    Edgar Lee Masters’ epigraph titled “Emily Sparks” from Spoon River Anthology portrays a very devout teacher, who behaved very motherly toward her students.  She thought of them all as her own children.  

    Emily Sparks reports that one young student—Reuben Pantier—who suffered a dysfunctional home-life needed her prayers and care even more than many of the others.

    Emily Sparks 

    Where is my boy, my boy—  
    In what far part of the world?
    The boy I loved best of all in the school?—  
    I, the teacher, the old maid, the virgin heart,
    Who made them all my children.
    Did I know my boy aright,  
    Thinking of him as spirit aflame,
    Active, ever aspiring?
    Oh, boy, boy, for whom I prayed and prayed
    In many a watchful hour at night,
    Do you remember the letter I wrote you
    Of the beautiful love of Christ?  
    And whether you ever took it or not,  
    My boy, wherever you are,  
    Work for your soul’s sake,
    That all the clay of you, all of the dross of you,
    May yield to the fire of you,
    Till the fire is nothing but light!…
    Nothing but light!

    Commentary on “Emily Sparks”

    The fourth epitaph from the Pantier Sequence features Reuben’s very spiritual teacher, whose prayers and guidance ultimately affected the boy’s life.

    First Movement:  The Strength of Spiritual Ties

    Where is my boy, my boy—  
    In what far part of the world?
    The boy I loved best of all in the school?—  

    Miss Emily speaks in a pleading tone, asking “Where is by boy, my boy—.”  She wonders, “in what part of the world” this sad child might be living.  Her concern for him is strong because he was “the boy I loved best of all in the school.”

    Although many years have passed and, of course, both individuals are dead and speaking from their graves, the strength of spiritual ties lends credence to the drama being played out in this Spoon River scenario.

    Second Movement:  Marian Love for All Children

    I, the teacher, the old maid, the virgin heart,
    Who made them all my children.

    Miss Emily then succinctly describes herself in the second movement which is an unrimed couplet:  “I, the teacher, the old maid, the virgin heart, / Who made them all my children.”

    The teacher’s virginal quality provides a gentle parallel to Marian love for all children, especially the lowly birthed and less fortunate.  She becomes a symbol for Christian love.

    Third Movement:  Faith in Christ’s Healing Love

    Did I know my boy aright,  
    Thinking of him as spirit aflame,
    Active, ever aspiring?

    Emily then contemplates and questions her understanding of the young Reuben Pantier, for she chose to see in him one who aspired to “spirit aflame.”  She knows that she might have read more into his character, sensing him to be more spiritually advanced than he was, but she continued in her faith that Christ would touch his soul and lift him from the travails to which mortals are susceptible.

    Fourth Movement:  Spiritual Love in a Letter

    Oh, boy, boy, for whom I prayed and prayed
    In many a watchful hour at night,
    Do you remember the letter I wrote you
    Of the beautiful love of Christ?  

    Exclaiming again, “Oh, boy, boy,” she queries him about a letter she wrote to him.  She reports having “prayed and prayed / In many a watchful hour at night.”  Then asks if he remembers the letter she wrote him, “Of the beautiful love of Christ.”

    Of course, she will not be able to receive a concrete response and has no way of knowing what, if any, effect she might have had on this young boy’s later life.

    Fifth Movement:  Spiritual Advice

    And whether you ever took it or not,  
    My boy, wherever you are,  
    Work for your soul’s sake,
    That all the clay of you, all of the dross of you,
    May yield to the fire of you,
    Till the fire is nothing but light!…
    Nothing but light!

    The speaker’s uncertainty is confirmed again as she remarks, “And whether you ever took it or not.”   She has never been able to know what her influence has been over the young Reuben.

    Miss Emily reports what the reader will understand to be the advice she had given him:  “Work for your soul’s sake, / That all the clay of you, all of the dross of you, / May yield to the fire of you.”

    Emily knows that if the boy follows her spiritual admonition, his earthly “fire” or human passions will transform and transcend into the light of spirit, and his human frailties will become “nothing but light!… / Nothing but light!”

    A Cheerful Note

    For the reader, the sad note, on the one hand, is that Miss Emily might never know that her advice was taken to heart by her former student, but on the other hand, a cheerful note that the student did eventually become the spiritual aspirant for which the virgin-hearted teacher had “prayed and prayed.”  

    Emily Sparks remains on of the more uplifting epitaphs from the entire sequence because it features a truly magnanimous character who cared about others instead of making excuses for a misbegotten path.  Miss Emily remained true to herself and continues to send her spiritual strength to others through her prayers.

    The Pantier Sequence

    The five epigraphs that comprise the “Pantier Sequence”: 

    1.  Benjamin Pantier  A husband who appears to be weakling allowing himself to be cowed by his wife, an arrogant bully.
    2. Mrs. Benjamin Pantier  Unbridled arrogance, overweening vanity along with cowardly weakness have combined to bring about the destruction of the marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Pantier.
    3. Reuben Pantier  Reuben Pantier’s colorful character helps dramatize the power of spiritual love for healing the mind, heart, and soul, even through the distance of miles and decades.  Reuben is the son of the dysfunctional couple Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Pantier.
    4. Emily Sparks  The epitaph is the fourth entry in the sequence of five epitaphs featuring a dysfunctional couple, their son, and the latter’s influential mentor.
    5.  Trainor, the Druggist  This epitaph offers a final installment covering the pitiful story of the Pantiers:  Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Pantier and their son Reuben.

  • Crossing the Field

    Image created by ChatGPT inspired by the poem
    Image created by ChatGPT inspired by the poem

    Crossing the Field

    Remembering the beautiful soul of a friend and fellow poet

    This heart bore the weight of a drifting cloud,
    Echoing winds that gathered at your voice.
    I watched your steady stance before the crowd—
    The youth in me yearned for your compass-light.

    Not like a father, not like flame, more like a pole star.
    You sensed it too but kept your orbit clean,
    As honor demands. Vows are like planted seeds
    Kept in the garden soil of thought.

    Years before our encounter,
    A gifted wordsmith scribbled me into fog,
    Through brittle leaves and frost-laced paths we stumbled.
    But frost gave way to dew-soaked petals,
    Then meadow runners cut through the grass
    Beyond the chapel stones.

    He cannot equal you—except in the call to art.
    Both gave me canvas, color, possibilities.
    And seeing now how all fields lead to dusk,
    The harvest waits—calm as the grain that bends in wind.

    Crossing this field, slow, purposeful,
    Nothing roots the rhythm of the day—
    Your essence and mine will scatter
    Through the breath of the Divine, 

    But only the Divine knows
    The shape of how and why—or if . . .

    A slightly different version appears in my collection If My Words Could Rise.

  • Edgar Lee Masters’  “Benjamin Pantier” and “Mrs. Benjamin Pantier”

    005a Image/Edgar-Lee-Masters-Portrait.jpg
    Image: Edgar Lee Masters

    Edgar Lee Masters’  “Benjamin Pantier” and “Mrs. Benjamin Pantier”

    Feminine unbridled arrogance along with overweening vanity, and masculine weakness have coupled to bring about the destruction of the marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Pantier.

    Introduction to the Pantier Sequence

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Benjamin Pantier” and “Mrs. Benjamin Pantier” from the American classic, Spoon River Anthology, portray the complaint of a husband against his wife and the wife’s response.

    These two poems begin a short sequence that includes installments from “Reuben Pantier,” the couple’s son, “Emily Sparks,” who was Reuben’s teacher, and “Trainor, the Druggist,” from whom readers learn more about the dynamic of the Reubens’ marriage.

    These little sequences give the entire series the feel of reading a novel. But the main emphasis continues to be on the character studies that they provide.

    Benjamin Pantier

    Together in this grave lie Benjamin Pantier, attorney at law,  
    And Nig, his dog, constant companion, solace and friend.
    Down the gray road, friends, children, men and women,
    Passing one by one out of life, left me till I was alone
    With Nig for partner, bed-fellow, comrade in drink.
    In the morning of life I knew aspiration and saw glory.
    Then she, who survives me, snared my soul
    With a snare which bled me to death,
    Till I, once strong of will, lay broken, indifferent,
    Living with Nig in a room back of a dingy office.
    Under my jaw-bone is snuggled the bony nose of Nig—
    Our story is lost in silence. Go by, mad world!

    Interpretive Recitation of “Benjamin Pantier”  

    Commentary on “Benjamin Pantier”

    While Benjamin Pantier does garner sympathy, he also demonstrates a weakness and failure to own at least part of his pathetic life path.

    First Movement:  Buried with His Dog

    Together in this grave lie Benjamin Pantier, attorney at law,  
    And Nig, his dog, constant companion, solace and friend.
    Down the gray road, friends, children, men and women,
    Passing one by one out of life, left me till I was alone
    With Nig for partner, bed-fellow, comrade in drink.
    In the morning of life I knew aspiration and saw glory.

    The speaker is Benjamin Pantier, who announces that he now lies in his grave with his dog, named Nig, who became his “constant companion, solace and friend.”  Benjamin had been an “attorney at law,” yet he now is filled with pity for himself as he describes his lonely lot.

    Benjamin claims that early on his life showed great promise, “in the morning of life I knew aspiration and saw glory.”  But now he emphasizes this lonely lot; “friends, children, men and women” all left his life “one by one” until he was left with no one but Nig “for partner.”  

    Second Movement:  Marriage Blighted His Life

    Then she, who survives me, snared my soul
    With a snare which bled me to death,
    Till I, once strong of will, lay broken, indifferent,
    Living with Nig in a room back of a dingy office.
    Under my jaw-bone is snuggled the bony nose of Nig—
    Our story is lost in silence. Go by, mad world!

    Benjamin’s life looked bright until he married a woman who became the bane of his existence.  His hatred of his marriage partner led him to a soul-sickness that he could never overcome.

    Benjamin now lies in the same grave with his trusty canine friend’s “bony nose” “snuggled under his “jaw-bone.”  He complains bitterly; “our story is lost in silence. Go by, mad world!”  This sentiment of Benjamin’s dramatic final command echoes W. B. Yeats’ “Cast a cold eye / On life, on death. / Horseman, pass by!” 

    Mrs. Benjamin Pantier

    I know that he told that I snared his soul  
    With a snare which bled him to death.
    And all the men loved him,
    And most of the women pitied him.
    But suppose you are really a lady, and have delicate tastes,
    And loathe the smell of whiskey and onions.
    And the rhythm of Wordsworth’s “Ode” runs in your ears,  
    While he goes about from morning till night
    Repeating bits of that common thing;
    “Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?”
    And then, suppose:  
    You are a woman well endowed,
    And the only man with whom the law and morality  
    Permit you to have the marital relation
    Is the very man that fills you with disgust
    Every time you think of it—while you think of it  
    Every time you see him?  
    That’s why I drove him away from home
    To live with his dog in a dingy room  
    Back of his office.

    Interpretive Recitation of  “Mrs. Benjamin Pantier” 

    Commentary on “Mrs. Benjamin Pantier”

    Trying to set the record straight, Mrs. Pantier further demonstrates the accuracy of her husband’s complaint.


    First Movement:  Her Side of the Story

    I know that he told that I snared his soul  
    With a snare which bled him to death.
    And all the men loved him,
    And most of the women pitied him.

    Mrs. Pantier begins her rebuttal to her husband’s accusation by stating that she knows what he has said about her bleeding “him to death.”  She states the issue in such a way that the reader knows immediately that she wants to share her side of the story and that it will surely not coincide with what Mr. Pantier has said.  

    Mrs. Pantier then states categorically, “all the men loved him / And most of the women pitied him,” a remark that does not comport with Mr. Pantier’s claim that he was left alone.  At this point, the reader will probably doubt Mr. Pantier’s assertion.

    Second Movement:   Her Obnoxious Arrogance

    But suppose you are really a lady, and have delicate tastes,
    And loathe the smell of whiskey and onions.
    And the rhythm of Wordsworth’s “Ode” runs in your ears,  
    While he goes about from morning till night
    Repeating bits of that common thing;
    “Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?”
    And then, suppose:  
    You are a woman well endowed,
    And the only man with whom the law and morality  
    Permit you to have the marital relation
    Is the very man that fills you with disgust
    Every time you think of it—while you think of it  
    Every time you see him?  
    That’s why I drove him away from home
    To live with his dog in a dingy room  
    Back of his office.

    However, after Mrs. Pantier begins her defense, the reader understands the self-importance of this woman.  Her paltry defense for driving her husband from his home is that she fancies herself “a lady” with “delicate tastes.” 

    Mrs. Pantier hears strains of Wordsworth‘s “Ode” ringing in her ears, while her husband “goes about from morning till night” quoting lines from Abraham Lincoln’s favorite poem, “Mortality” by William Knox.  

    For Mrs. Pantier, the British Wordsworth signals gentility and the upper-class befitting a lady, while the American Knox implies low-class individualism and struggle for a living.

    Even more gratingly obnoxious is that Mrs. Pantier fancies herself “well endowed,” but legally and morally, she can indulge her well-endowed body only with a man she finds disgusting.  Thus, because of her vanity and arrogance, she feels justified in driving him from his home, causing him to live only with his dog in his office.

    Image: Edgar Lee Masters – Commemorative Stamp

    The Pantier Sequence

    1.  Benjamin Pantier  A husband who appears to be weakling allowing himself to be cowed by his wife, an arrogant bully.
    2. Mrs. Benjamin Pantier  Unbridled arrogance, overweening vanity along with cowardly weakness have combined to bring about the destruction of the marriage of Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Pantier.
    3. Reuben Pantier  Reuben Pantier’s colorful character helps dramatize the power of spiritual love for healing the mind, heart, and soul, even through the distance of miles and decades.  Reuben is the son of the dysfunctional couple Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Pantier.
    4. Emily Sparks  The epitaph is the fourth entry in the sequence of five epitaphs featuring a dysfunctional couple, their son, and the latter’s influential mentor.
    5.  Trainor, the Druggist  This epitaph offers a final installment covering the pitiful story of the Pantiers:  Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Pantier and their son Reuben.

  • In Midnight’s Gloom

    Image created by Grok inspired by the poem
    Image created by Grok inspired by the poem

    In Midnight’s Gloom

    When passion’s fire burns in midnight’s gloom,
    A harpsichord with fervent zeal he plays,
    In deep shadows, where scarlet poppies bloom,
    His fingers dance through velvet, starlit haze.

    He sips his wine and dreams in vapors sweet,
    With leaves of green that in his satchel lie,
    His heart, a galleon wrecked on coral reef,
    Drifts unmanned beneath a raven’s sky.

    No doll’s soft gaze can bid his cheek to flame,
    Nor wakes endure where mirth and madness reign,
    Clad in a motley cloak of jesting fame,
    He pounds the keys, a tempest’s fierce refrain.

    His soul, a riddle wrapped in smoke’s embrace,
    Blazes volcanic, yet with tranquil grace.

  • Edgar Lee Masters’ “Kinsey Keene”

    Image:  Edgar Lee Masters -  Alchetron https://alchetron.com/Edgar-Lee-Masters
    Image:  Edgar Lee Masters –  Alchetron

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Kinsey Keene”

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Kinsey Keene” offers a unique conundrum as it forces the reader to muse upon the two legendary claims regarding a famous quotation.

    Introduction and Text of “Kinsey Keene”

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Kinsey Keene” from his American classic Spoon River Anthology focuses on a legendary quotation by the French commander  General Count Etienne Cambronne at the losing end of the Battle at Waterloo.  

    When the British were about to vanquish the Old Guard, British Major-GeneralPeregrine Maitland called for the French to surrender, but Cambronne allegedly responded, “La Garde meurt, elle ne se rend pas!” (“The Guard may die, but it will never surrender”).  Cambronne repudiated the claim that he said those words, and legend has filled in the rest—claiming that he said, “Merde!” which translates variously as “F**k off!” or “Shit!”  

    Now to which legendary quotation Master’s speaker is alluding can be a matter of interpretation:  that he fails to offer the quotation might indicate that he has in mind the obscenity.  However, because he has already quoted the British Major-General’s command, he perhaps is implying the response about no surrender.  Regardless of which quotation the speaker is evoking, the same non-conformist, adversarial attitude is displayed by Kinsey Keene.

    Kinsey Keene

    Your attention, Thomas Rhodes, president of the bank;
    Coolbaugh Whedon, editor of the Argus;  
    Rev. Peet, pastor of the leading church;  
    A. D. Blood, several times Mayor of Spoon River;
    And finally all of you, members of the Social Purity Club—
    Your attention to Cambronne’s dying words,  
    Standing with the heroic remnant  
    Of Napoleon’s guard on Mount Saint Jean
    At the battle field of Waterloo,  
    When Maitland, the Englishman, called to them:
    “Surrender, brave Frenchmen!”—  
    There at close of day with the battle hopelessly lost,  
    And hordes of men no longer the army  
    Of the great Napoleon
    Streamed from the field like ragged strips
    Of thunder clouds in the storm.  
    Well, what Cambronne said to Maitland
    Ere the English fire made smooth the brow of the hill  
    Against the sinking light of day
    Say I to you, and all of you,
    And to you, O world.
    And I charge you to carve it
    Upon my stone.

    Commentary on “Kinsey Keene”

    Edgar Lee Masters’ “Kinsey Keene” offers a unique conundrum which requires readers to ruminate upon the two legendary claims regarding a famous quotation.

    First Movement:  Addressing the Upper Crust

    Your attention, Thomas Rhodes, president of the bank;
    Coolbaugh Whedon, editor of the Argus;  
    Rev. Peet, pastor of the leading church;  
    A. D. Blood, several times Mayor of Spoon River;
    And finally all of you, members of the Social Purity Club—

    Kinsey Keene addresses some of the upper crust of the fictional town of Spoon River: the president of the bank, the editor of the newspaper, the pastor of the leading church, and a “several times” mayor of the town.   He also calls for the attention of “all of you, members of the Social Purity Club”—a fictional club that implies Keene’s disdain for the town’s leaders.

    Second Movement:  Allusion to a Legend

    Your attention to Cambronne’s dying words,  
    Standing with the heroic remnant  
    Of Napoleon’s guard on Mount Saint Jean
    At the battle field of Waterloo,  
    When Maitland, the Englishman, called to them:
    “Surrender, brave Frenchmen!”—  

    The second movement reveals that Keene is drawing attention to those famous, legendary words of the dying French commander, General Count Etienne Cambronne.   Instead of revealing the words, Keene describes the scene:  the French general was “standing with heroic remnant / Of Napoleon’s guard on Mount Saint Jean / At the battle field of Waterloo.” Thus placed, Cambronne was accosted by the command of the British general Maitland, who demanded, “Surrender, brave Frenchmen!”

    Third Movement:  A Lost Battle

    There at close of day with the battle hopelessly lost,  
    And hordes of men no longer the army  
    Of the great Napoleon
    Streamed from the field like ragged strips
    Of thunder clouds in the storm.  

    Again, Keene describes the battlefield.  It is “at close of day,” the battle lost, and the once proud French army of “the great Napoleon” was moving restlessly from the battlefield.  He compares the appearance of  soldiers to “ragged strips / Of thunder clouds in the storm.”  

    Fourth Movement:  What Did Cambronne Say?

    Well, what Cambronne said to Maitland
    Ere the English fire made smooth the brow of the hill  
    Against the sinking light of day
    Say I to you, and all of you,
    And to you, O world.
    And I charge you to carve it
    Upon my stone.

    Keene then inserts the phantom quotation by referring to it with the clause “what Cambronne said to Maitland.”  Before the English continued to demolish the “brow of the hill / Against the sinking light of day,” Cambronne made his famous remark.    Now, Keene defiantly thrusts that same statement at his adversaries and challenges them to engrave the remark upon his grave marker.

    Of course, the French lost the Battle of Waterloo and Napoleon was exiled.  Historians remain uncertain regarding the Cambronne quotation:  perhaps he merely said, “The Guard dies but never surrenders,” or as others have asserted, Cambronne might uttered the obscene, “Merde!”

    This final command to carve the Cambronne quotation upon his stone leaves the reader again with the ambiguity for interpretation:  does Keene want an obscenity carved upon his stone, or just a defiant, “never surrender”?  Either way, he gets his point across—that he never surrendered his own sense of dignity to that of the town’s corrupt leaders.

  • Divine Goal

    Image created by Grok inspired by the poem
    Image created by Grok inspired by the poem

    Divine Goal

    Belovèd opens wide the window’s frame,
    A sacred act that melts all pain away.
    On morning’s wing, she stands in light’s array,
    Defying storms that threaten without shame.
    Into the mystic mists her gaze now came,
    Divine awareness in the breeze’s sway.
    Though danger lurks within her mind’s display,
    Her soul, wrapped in a holy glow, takes aim.

    Her inner self learns how truly to see,
    Each tranquil scene a balm to make her whole.
    While thoughts dart swift and dust falls endlessly,
    Her spirit soars beyond the mundane toll.
    In stillness, love and joy flow ceaselessly,
    As divine Bliss remains her only goal.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “Safe in their Alabaster Chambers”

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet https://www.amherst.edu/library/archives/holdings/edickinson

    Emily Dickinson’s “Safe in their Alabaster Chambers” (1859)

    Emily Dickinson’s “Safe in their Alabaster Chambers” contemplates death, resurrection, and the soul’s mysterious condition beyond earthly awareness. The speaker contrasts the stillness of the grave with the restless activity of the living world. Dickinson’s 1861 revision of the second stanza renders the contrast more cosmic in nature.

    Introduction and Text of “Safe in their Alabaster Chambers” (1859)

    Emily Dickinson’s “Safe in their Alabaster Chambers” is one of the speaker’s most profound meditations on death and immortality. The poem unfolds in two compact stanzas that juxtapose the silence of the tomb against the movement and noise of earthly existence. 

    In earlier essays, I have discussed Dickinson’s fascination with immortality and the soul’s destiny, concerns that appear repeatedly throughout her finest poems. Here the speaker creates a little drama in which the dead seem sheltered from time itself, while nature continues its cheerful but oblivious routines above them. The poem’s paradox emerges from the tension between physical death and spiritual continuance.

    Safe in their Alabaster Chambers (1859)

    Safe in their Alabaster Chambers
    Untouched by Morning
    And untouched by Noon—
    Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection—
    Rafter of satin,
    And Roof of stone.

    Light laughs the breeze
    In her Castle above them—
    Babbles the Bee in a stolid Ear,
    Pipe the Sweet Birds in ignorant cadence—
    Ah, what sagacity perished here!

    Commentary on “Safe in their Alabaster Chambers” (1859)

    The speaker presents death neither as annihilation nor as tragedy. Instead, she portrays a condition of profound stillness that transcends earthly commotion.

    First Stanza: “Safe in their Alabaster Chambers”

    Safe in their Alabaster Chambers
    Untouched by Morning
    And untouched by Noon—
    Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection—
    Rafter of satin,
    And Roof of stone.

    The opening line immediately places the dead within “Alabaster Chambers,” a metaphor for tombs or graves. The adjective “safe” establishes a surprisingly comforting atmosphere rather than one of dread. The speaker is offer the notion that these resting places serve as shelters.

    The occupants remain “Untouched by Morning” and “untouched by Noon.” Time no longer affects them because earthly cycles have lost their authority. Morning and noon symbolize the passage of worldly existence from beginning toward maturity.

    The speaker refers to the deceased as “the meek members of the Resurrection.” By employing the term “Resurrection,” she hints that death represents a temporary condition rather than a final ending. The dead await a future awakening beyond mortal perception.

    Paramahansa Yogananda explains that the soul remains immortal and merely passes through a change called death. He teaches that “the soul feels a joyous sense of relief and freedom” after leaving the body. The speaker’s image of peaceful sleepers harmonizes with that spiritual concept.

    The word “sleep” further softens the reality of death. Rather than depicting decay or destruction, the speaker offers an image of repose. The dead appear withdrawn from activity but not extinguished.

    The final two lines provide an elegant architectural image. A “Rafter of satin” suggests softness and refinement, while a “Roof of stone” reminds readers of the grave’s physical permanence. The combination unites comfort with solemnity.  The stanza presents a remarkable balance between Christian symbolism and Eastern mysticism. 

    In earlier essays, I have discussed Dickinson’s tendency to approach spiritual questions through intuition rather than doctrine. The speaker similarly leaves the mystery unresolved while emphasizing serenity.

    The first stanza ultimately suggests that the dead have entered a realm beyond ordinary measurements of time. Their condition remains inaccessible to earthly observers. Yet the speaker implies that their apparent silence conceals a deeper destiny.

    Second Stanza: “Light laughs the breeze”

    Light laughs the breeze
    In her Castle above them—
    Babbles the Bee in a stolid Ear,
    Pipe the Sweet Birds in ignorant cadence—
    Ah, what sagacity perished here!

    The second stanza shifts attention from the dead to the living world above them. Nature remains energetic, animated, and noisy. The speaker personifies the breeze as laughing in her “Castle.”  The image of the castle elevates the atmosphere of the upper world. Air, light, and movement continue their endless activity. Meanwhile, the dead remain separated from those earthly amusements.

    The bee “Babbles” into a “stolid Ear.” The adjective “stolid” rightly emphasizes the inability of the dead to respond. No sound, however lively, can penetrate their utterly profound stillness.    Likewise, the birds continue their songs in “ignorant cadence.” The birds are unaware of the significance of those who lie beneath them. Of course, Nature performs her routines without comprehending human mortality.

    The speaker’s insight becomes especially striking in the final line. “Ah, what sagacity perished here!” expresses admiration for the wisdom once possessed by the deceased. The exclamation acknowledges the loss of great minds and souls.   

    Yet the line also contains irony. If resurrection awaits, then that sagacity has not truly perished. Only its earthly expression has disappeared from human sight.  This speaker is completely aware that the soul is eternal.

    Paramahansa Yogananda explains that death does not destroy consciousness but merely removes the soul from its bodily garment. He teaches that the soul remains “an immortal soul, a child of God.” The speaker’s lament therefore resonates more as a human perception than an ultimate truth.

    The poem concludes without resolving the mystery. The cheerful sounds of nature continue above, while the dead remain hidden below. Through that contrast, the speaker invites readers to muse upon whether apparent endings conceal an unseen continuation of life.

    Note on the 1861 Revision

    In Thomas H. Johnson’s The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, the editor offers this poem as #216, but there are two versions of this poem, one from 1859 and one from 1861.  The first stanza is virtually unchanged, except for spacing, but the second stanza takes on a whole new aura.

    Safe in their Alabaster Chambers (1861)

    Safe in their Alabaster Chambers—
    Untouched by Morning
    And untouched by Noon—
    Lie the meek members of the Resurrection—
    Rafter of Satin—and Roof of Stone!

    Grand go the Years—in the Crescent—above them—
    Worlds scoop their Arcs—
    And Firmaments—row—
    Diadems—drop—and Doges—surrender—
    Soundless as dots—on a Disc of Snow—

    Dickinson’s 1861 revision shifts the poem’s emphasis from the quiet repose of the dead to the vast movements of cosmic time. In the 1859 version, the second stanza focuses on earthly nature—breezes, bees, and birds continuing their activities in ignorance of the dead below. The contrast remains local and intimate.

    The 1861 version expands the speaker’s vision dramatically. Instead of observing nature’s small routines, she contemplates immense cycles of history and the universe: “Years,” “Worlds,” and “Firmaments” move across the heavens while rulers and crowns vanish.  The dead remain unchanged in their “Alabaster Chambers,” but now entire civilizations and celestial systems pass before them.

    The final image, “Soundless as dots—on a Disc of Snow,” reduces worldly power and achievement to near insignificance. Kings, doges, and diadems disappear as silently as falling snowflakes. 

    The revision thus deepens the poem’s contemplative musing on eternity, suggesting not merely that the dead are removed from earthly life, but that they rest beyond the reach of time itself. The perspective becomes more metaphysical, more cosmic, and ultimately more awe-inspiring than that of the earlier version.

  • Pluck It Out

    Image created by Grok inspired by the poem
    Image created by Grok inspired by the poem

    Pluck It Out

    “If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out” –Matt. 18:9

    If Rose enchant your eye,
    Do not gaze; do not sigh.

    If Melody enchant your ear,
    Take care as to what you hear. 

    If Fragrance enchant your nose,
    Take not; then take flight.

    If Morsel enchant your tongue,
    Disdain taste buds; turn and run.

    If Lust enchant your skin,
    Allow it never touch again.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “To lose one’s faith – surpass” 

    Image: Emily Dickinson - Amherst College - Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 - likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet
    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “To lose one’s faith – surpass” 

    Emily Dickinson’s “To lose one’s faith – surpass” reveals the speaker’s vision of faith as a singular inward inheritance whose loss exceeds material loss.

    Introduction and Text of “To lose one’s faith – surpass”

    Emily Dickinson’s “To lose one’s faith – surpass” is an American-Innovative lyric featuring the Dickinsonian plethora of dashes, while remaining unrimed. The speaker contrasts spiritual loss with material loss.

    The tone remains steady and reflective, allowing meaning to unfold through simple comparative statements rather than extended argument or narrative expansion.  The speaker frames faith as something more interior than property or inheritance. The poem moves between material imagery and inward consequence.

    To lose one’s faith – surpass –

    To lose one’s faith – surpass –
    The loss of an Estate –
    Because Estates can be
    Replenished – faith cannot –

    Inherited with Life –
    Belief – but once – can be –
    Annihilate a single clause –
    And Being’s – Beggary –

    Commentary on “To lose one’s faith – surpass”

    The speaker presents faith as an inner possession whose loss creates a deeper condition than material ruin. The poem moves toward inward deprivation rather than external loss.

    First Stanza: Cannot Get Back

    To lose one’s faith – surpass –
    The loss of an Estate –
    Because Estates can be
    Replenished – faith cannot –

    The speaker begins with a quiet but firm comparison between faith and material inheritance. An estate represents something large, structured, and recoverable in worldly terms.

    The speaker completes the contrast by establishing permanence in loss. An estate may return through circumstance or restoration, but faith does not follow that pattern of recovery.

    The tone remains calm, almost observational, as if the speaker is stating a condition of reality rather than offering persuasion or argument. The word “surpass” suggests that spiritual loss rises above material loss in seriousness. The speaker sets a hierarchy of inward and outward value.

    The estate functions as a symbol of continuity in earthly life, where loss can be repaired through time, labor, or inheritance. Faith, however, is treated as singular and non-repeatable. Once absent, it does not return in the same inward form.

    The speaker’s phrasing suggests a quiet finality, where spiritual absence becomes a lasting condition rather than a temporary state.  The simplicity of diction reinforces the seriousness of the claim, allowing the idea to feel inevitable rather than debated.

    In earlier commentaries on Dickinsonian poems, I have discussed Dickinson’s creating  metaphysical weight through plain comparison rather than rhetorical expansion.  The speaker’s structure mirrors this method, placing two forms of loss side by side until their difference becomes unavoidable.

    Paramahansa Yogananda explains that inward perception of spiritual reality requires sustained alignment, and when that alignment is broken, outer substitutes cannot fully replace it, as taught.

    The speaker’s comparison therefore moves beyond economics into inward life itself, where restoration is not guaranteed.  The stanza closes with a sense of irreversible distinction between what can be regained and what cannot.

    Second Stanza: You, too, maybe!

    Inherited with Life –
    Belief – but once – can be –
    Annihilate a single clause –
    And Being’s – Beggary –

    The speaker shifts toward origin, suggesting that belief is not merely learned but carried within life itself as an initial endowment.  The phrase “but once” introduces a sense of singularity, as if belief arrives in a form that does not naturally duplicate.

    The speaker turns language itself into a structure of being. A disruption in understanding is presented as capable of total inward collapse.  The “single clause” suggests that even a small fracture in comprehension can affect the whole structure of belief.

    The tone remains restrained, yet the implication is severe, as though identity depends upon coherence of inward language.  The speaker concludes with a stark image of existential deprivation. “Beggary” becomes a condition of being rather than a social state.

    The loss described is not partial but total in inward effect, where existence continues but without spiritual fullness.  The simplicity of the final phrase intensifies its meaning, leaving the impression of stripped interior life.

    In other essays, I have noted that Dickinson often compresses entire states of existence into single concluding words that carry structural weight.  Paramahansa Yogananda explains that when inner awareness of divine connection is obscured, life continues outwardly but loses its sustaining inner richness.

    The speaker’s logic suggests that faith is not supplementary but foundational to inward coherence. The poem ends by presenting existence without faith as a condition of essential lack, where being remains but fullness and purpose are withdrawn.

  • Mother of Grace

    Image created by Gemini inspired by the poem
    Image created by Gemini inspired by the poem

    Mother of Grace

    Visions command this frail sphere:
    Stunned, cursed, or bemused,
    Soldiers must face their battles,
    Clutching at banners and cheers.

    Groping, yet seeking dimly,
    Wincing and weaving,
    The trap of chains lingers near.
    Cradling the child she bore,

    The mother of grace perceives
    Tempests ahead for her young.
    Soul will confront and endure.
    She’ll shield and steer,

    Yet not stay clasped forever.
    Each child will wield a voice,
    Fearless and brash, but blindly
    Lost in their ruinous choice.

    The mother of grace bestowed
    No flaw—they carved
    Their grim roads through chambers
    Of gloom where insight

    Fades to dust. Each loss
    Drives a jagged spike, struck
    By mallets shaped in the mire
    Of sorrow. Each greedy plea

    Blooms in the thick dark,
    Where care goes to rot.
    The mother of grace molds craft
    From fragments of rust. Ash

    Will cloak the tomes of ice
    Where truth poses riddles still.