Robert Frost’s “A Girl’s Garden” dramatizes a little tale often told by the speaker’s neighbor, who enjoys narrating her little story about her experience in growing and nurturing a garden as a young girl.
Introduction and Text of “A Girl’s Garden”
Robert Frost’s fine little narrative “A Girl’s Garden” reveals that the Frostian speaker enjoys pure narrative offered just for the fun of it. The speaker is recounting an old woman’s experience with a youthful endeavor in gardening on her family’s farm.
The poem features 12 quatrains displayed in four movements, each quatrain features the rime scheme, ABCB. The nostalgia presented here remains quite lucid without any saccharine overstating or melancholy self-pity that is so prevalent in many postmodern poems of this type: it is a simple tale about a simple girl told by a simple speaker.
A Girl’s Garden
A neighbor of mine in the village Likes to tell how one spring When she was a girl on the farm, she did A childlike thing.
One day she asked her father To give her a garden plot To plant and tend and reap herself, And he said, “Why not?”
In casting about for a corner He thought of an idle bit Of walled-off ground where a shop had stood, And he said, “Just it.”
And he said, “That ought to make you An ideal one-girl farm, And give you a chance to put some strength On your slim-jim arm.”
It was not enough of a garden Her father said, to plow; So she had to work it all by hand, But she don’t mind now.
She wheeled the dung in a wheelbarrow Along a stretch of road; But she always ran away and left Her not-nice load,
And hid from anyone passing. And then she begged the seed. She says she thinks she planted one Of all things but weed.
A hill each of potatoes, Radishes, lettuce, peas, Tomatoes, beets, beans, pumpkins, corn, And even fruit trees.
And yes, she has long mistrusted That a cider-apple In bearing there today is hers, Or at least may be.
Her crop was a miscellany When all was said and done, A little bit of everything, A great deal of none.
Now when she sees in the village How village things go, Just when it seems to come in right, She says, “I know!
“It’s as when I was a farmer…” Oh never by way of advice! And she never sins by telling the tale To the same person twice.
Reading
Commentary on “A Girl’s Garden”
Robert Frost’s “A Girl’s Garden” dramatizes a little story often told by the speaker’s neighbor, who enjoys telling her little tale about growing and nurturing a garden when she was just a girl.
First Movement: A Conversation With a Neighbor
A neighbor of mine in the village Likes to tell how one spring When she was a girl on the farm, she did A childlike thing.
One day she asked her father To give her a garden plot To plant and tend and reap herself, And he said, “Why not?”
In casting about for a corner He thought of an idle bit Of walled-off ground where a shop had stood, And he said, “Just it.”
The first movement finds Robert Frost’s speaker in “A Girl’s Garden” relating a conversation he remembers with his neighbor in the village. The speaker reports that the woman has always been quite fond of retelling an experience from her childhood about “a childlike thing” she did when she lived on a farm.
While still a child, the woman one fine spring season, requests from her father some land upon which she might grow a garden. The father eagerly agrees, and in the next few days, searches his farm for just the right plot of land for his daughter’s endeavor.
After finding the little plot of land he deemed just right for his daughter’s gardening experiment, the father tells his daughter about his choice. The few acres had at one time sported a shop, and it was walled off from the road. The father thus deemed this little plot a fine place for his daughter’s experiment in gardening.
Second Movement: Her Father Hands over a Plot
And he said, “That ought to make you An ideal one-girl farm, And give you a chance to put some strength On your slim-jim arm.”
It was not enough of a garden Her father said, to plow; So she had to work it all by hand, But she don’t mind now.
She wheeled the dung in a wheelbarrow Along a stretch of road; But she always ran away and left Her not-nice load,
After the father reports his choice to his daughter, telling her that the plot of land should be just right for her “one-girl farm,” he informs her that because the plot is too small to plow, she will have to dig the dirt and get it ready by hand.
This work would be good for her; it would give her strong arms. The daughter is delighted to have the plot of land and is very enthusiastic about starting the work. She does not mind having to ready the soil by hand.
The woman reports in her narrative that she transported the necessary items to her garden plot with a wheelbarrow. She adds a comic element, saying the smell of the dung fertilizer made her run away.
Third Movement: A Wide Variety of Plants
And hid from anyone passing. And then she begged the seed. She says she thinks she planted one Of all things but weed.
A hill each of potatoes, Radishes, lettuce, peas, Tomatoes, beets, beans, pumpkins, corn, And even fruit trees.
And yes, she has long mistrusted That a cider-apple In bearing there today is hers, Or at least may be.
The woman reports that she would then go hide, so no one could observe that she ran away from the dung smell. She next imparts the information about what she planted. The story-teller reckons that she planted one of everything, except weeds. She then lists her plants: “potatoes, radishes, lettuce, peas / Tomatoes, beets, beans, pumpkins, corn, / And even fruit trees.”
She further reckons that she planted quite a lot of vegetables and fruits for such a small plot of farmland. She recounts that today a “cider apple tree” is growing there, and she harbors the suspicion that the tree might be the result of her farming experiment that year.
Fourth Movement: The Poet’s Kind of Storyteller
Her crop was a miscellany When all was said and done, A little bit of everything, A great deal of none.
Now when she sees in the village How village things go, Just when it seems to come in right, She says, “I know!
“It’s as when I was a farmer…” Oh never by way of advice! And she never sins by telling the tale To the same person twice.
The story-teller reports that she was able to harvest quite a variety of crops, though not very much of each one. After having experienced that summer as a gardener, now as she observes that the useful, abundant gardens the folks in the village have grown on their small plots of land around their homes, she remembers her own experience of growing a garden on her father’s farm when she was just a young girl.
The speaker, who is recounting the old woman’s story, is amazed that this woman is not the kind of repetitive story-teller that so many seniors of nostalgia are. He says that though he has heard her tell that story many times, she never repeats the same story to the same villager.
That she remembers to whom she has already told her little story indicates that she has a good memory and also that she does not indulge in wasting time. And the old gal never condescends to be offering advice; she merely adds her quips as fond memories. The poet/speaker seems to admire that kind of storyteller.
Robert Frost’s poem, “Bereft,” displays one the most amazing metaphors to be encountered in poetry: “Leaves got up in a coil and hissed / Blindly struck at my knee and missed.” Like “The Road Not Taken,” however, this poem offers up a tricky feature.
Introduction with Text of “Bereft”
Robert Frost masterfully guides his metaphor to render his poem “Bereft” a significant American poem. Despite the sadness and seriousness of the poem’s subject, readers will delight in the masterful use of the marvelous metaphor displayed within it.
The speaker in this poem is living alone and he is sorrowful. He says he has “no one left but God.” The odd rime-scheme of the poem—AAAAABBACCDDDEDE— bestows a mesmerizing effect, perfectly complementing the haunting grief of the subject.
The important metaphor—”Leaves got up in a coil and hissed, / Blindly struck at my knee and missed”—remains one of the best in the English language. The visual imagery of this metaphor is stark and startling, yet clear and powerful.
Sometimes the concept and function of metaphor is difficult for beginning poetry students and readers to grasp, and the leaves as snake metaphor should be in every teacher’s toolkit for explaining the concept and function of metaphor to students.
Serving as a clarifying example, that metaphor is one of the most useful and beneficial to help novices read and understand poetry. Robert Frost, in this poem, demonstrates his strongest poetic powers. And he also adds a little trick that has become part of his modus operandi.
Bereft
Where had I heard this wind before Change like this to a deeper roar? What would it take my standing there for, Holding open a restive door, Looking down hill to a frothy shore? Summer was past and the day was past. Sombre clouds in the west were massed. Out on the porch’s sagging floor, Leaves got up in a coil and hissed, Blindly struck at my knee and missed. Something sinister in the tone Told me my secret must be known: Word I was in the house alone Somehow must have gotten abroad, Word I was in my life alone, Word I had no one left but God.
Reading
Commentary on “Bereft”
The speaker in Robert Frost’s “Bereft” expresses his melancholy aloneness. He is in his life as well as in his house alone. His haunting description of nature around him bespeak shis utter sorrow, and a mysterious aura seems to hang on his every image.
First Movement: A Man Alone in His Life
Where had I heard this wind before Change like this to a deeper roar? What would it take my standing there for, Holding open a restive door, Looking down hill to a frothy shore?
In the first two lines, the poem commences with a question as the speaker asks about having heard a similar sound in the wind prior to this moment. The wind had intensified to a “deeper roar.” The speaker, who is a man alone in his life, is sharply cognizant of sounds; it is human nature that when one is alone, one seems to hear every little sound.
Then the speaker poses another question. He wonders what the wind might be thinking of him just standing idly holding the door open, as he stares down at the shore of a body of water, perhaps a lake. The lake’s waters have been whipped up into a spume that is landing on the bank.
He continues musing on what such a roaring wind would think of his just standing there quietly holding open his door with the wind shoving itself against it. He continues to give a blank stare down to the lake that looks like a tornado or hurricane is swirling it up in to billows with a roaring wind. Somehow it feels to him that the wind must be judging him in his odd movements.
Second Movement: Funereal Clouds
Summer was past and the day was past. Sombre clouds in the west were massed.
Then in a riming couplet, the speaker observes that summer is over, and the end of the day begins to represent more than the actual season and day. Those endings take on the function of a symbol as the speaker paints metaphorically his own age: his youth is already gone and old age has taken him. He intuits that the funereal clouds are heralding his own demise.
Third Movement: Sagging Life
Out on the porch’s sagging floor, Leaves got up in a coil and hissed, Blindly struck at my knee and missed.
The speaker steps out onto the porch that is sagging, and here is where that magnificent metaphor makes its appearance:
Leaves got up in a coil and hissed, Blindly struck at my knee and missed.
The speaker metaphorically likens the leaves to a snake without even employing the word “snake.” He allows the leaves to make an image of a snake as he dramatizes their action. The wind whips the leaves up into a coil, and they aim for the speaker’s knee, but before they could strike, the wind lets them drop.
Fourth Movement: Alone Only with God
Something sinister in the tone Told me my secret must be known: Word I was in the house alone Somehow must have gotten abroad, Word I was in my life alone, Word I had no one left but God.
The entire scene is sober, as are the clouds that were accumulating in the west. The speaker describes the scene as “sinister”: The wind’s deep roar, the sagging porch, the leaves acting snakelike—all calculate as something “sinister” to the speaker.
The speaker then guesses that the dark and sinister scene has been effected because word had gotten out that he is alone—he is in this big house alone. Somehow the secret had gotten out, and now all of nature is conspiring to remind him of his aloneness. But even more important than the fact that he is living in his house alone is the fact that he is living “in [his] life alone.”
The appalling secret that he has “no left but God” is prompting the weather and even the supposedly insensate nature to act in a disturbing manner just because they have the power to do so. And nature along with the weather possesses that power because it is so easy to disturb and intimidate a bereaved individual who is alone in his life. The speaker’s circumstance as a bereaved individual appears to move all of nature to collude against his peace of mind.
Nevertheless, readers will recall that the speaker has said he has God in his life—even if he had phrased it quite negatively. Still, if all one has in one’s life is God, that life will, in fact, remain full.
As usual, Robert Frost has created a very tricky poem. All the sadness, loneliness, natural wizardry, and lamentation amount to very little when the realization of having God in his life is noted and affirmed.
The phrase “carpe diem” meaning “seize the day” originates with the classical Roman poet Horace. Frost’s speaker offers a different view that questions the usefulness of that idea. This poem offers a sample of the themes and the style in which Frost wrote most of his more successful poems.
Introduction with Text of “Carpe Diem”
The speaker in Robert Frost’s “Carpe Diem” offers a rebuttal to the philosophical advice portrayed in the notion “seize the day.” Frost’s speaker has decided that the present is not really that easy or valuable enough for capturing. Thus, this rebel has some subterfuge advice for his listeners. Let art and life coalesce on a new notion.
Carpe Diem
Age saw two quiet children Go loving by at twilight, He knew not whether homeward, Or outward from the village, Or (chimes were ringing) churchward, He waited, (they were strangers) Till they were out of hearing To bid them both be happy. “Be happy, happy, happy, And seize the day of pleasure.” The age-long theme is Age’s. ‘Twas Age imposed on poems Their gather-roses burden To warn against the danger That overtaken lovers From being overflooded With happiness should have it. And yet not know they have it. But bid life seize the present? It lives less in the present Than in the future always, And less in both together Than in the past. The present Is too much for the senses, Too crowding, too confusing- Too present to imagine.
Reading
Commentary on “Carpe Diem”
The phrase “carpe diem” meaning “seize the day” originates with the classical Roman poet Horace around 65 B. C. Frost’s speaker offers a different notion that questions the usefulness of that idea.
First Movement: Age as a Person
Age saw two quiet children Go loving by at twilight, He knew not whether homeward, Or outward from the village, Or (chimes were ringing) churchward, He waited, (they were strangers) Till they were out of hearing To bid them both be happy. “Be happy, happy, happy, And seize the day of pleasure.”
In the first movement of Robert Frost’s “Carpe Diem,” the speaker creates a metaphor by personifying “Age,” who is observing a pair of young lovers. The lovers are on a journey—to where the speaker is not privy.
Because the speaker does not know exactly whither the couple is bound, he speculates that they may be simply going home, or may be traveling out of their home village, or they may be headed to church.
The last guess is quite possible because the speaker suggest that he is hearing the ringing of bells. Because the lovers are “strangers” to the speaker, he does not address them personally.
But after the couple can no longer hear, the speaker wishes for them happiness in their lives. He also adds the “carpe diem” admonition, elongating it to a full, “Be happy, happy, happy, / And seize the day of pleasure.”
Second Movement: A New Take on an Old Concept
The age-long theme is Age’s. ‘Twas Age imposed on poems Their gather-roses burden To warn against the danger That overtaken lovers From being overflooded With happiness should have it. And yet not know they have it.
At this point, after presenting a little drama exemplifying the oft touted employment of the expression in question, the speaker commences his evaluation of the age-old adage, “carpe diem.” The speaker first notes that is it always the old folks who foist this faulty notion upon the young.
This questionable command of the aged has spilled into poems the rose-gathering obligation related to time. His allusion to Robert Herrick’s “To the Virgins to Make Much of Time” will not be lost on the observant and the literary. The implication that a couple in love must stop with basking in that all-consuming feeling and take note of it is laughable to the speaker.
Lovers know they are in love, and they enjoy quite tangibly in the here-and-now that being in love. Telling them to “seize” that moment is like telling a toddler to stop and enjoy laughing as she enjoys playing with her toddler toys. One need not make a spectacle of one’s enjoyment for future use.
Third Movement: The Faulty Present
But bid life seize the present? It lives less in the present Than in the future always, And less in both together Than in the past. The present Is too much for the senses, Too crowding, too confusing- Too present to imagine.
Lovers know they are in love and enjoy that state of being. They are, in fact, seizing the present with all their might. But for this speaker, the very idea of life in general being lived in the present only is faulty, cumbersome, and finally unattainable simply because of the way the human brain is naturally wired.
This speaker believes that life is lived “less in the present” than in the future. Folks always live and move with their future in mind. But surprisingly, according to this speaker, people live more in the past than in both the present and the future.
How can that be? Because the past has already happened. They have the specifics with which to deal. So the mind returns again and again to the past, as it merely contemplates the present and gives a nod to the future. Why not live more in the present? Because the present is filled with everything that attracts and stimulates the senses.
The senses, the mind, the heart, the brain become overloaded with all of the details that surround them. Those things crowd in on the mind and the present becomes “too present to imagine.”
The imagination plays such vital role in human life that the attempt to confine it to an area of overcrowding renders it too stunned to function. And the future: of course, the first complaint is that it has not happened yet. But the future is the fertile ground of the imagination.
Imagining what will come tomorrow is a popular way of spending time: What will we have for lunch? What job will I train for? Where will I live when I get married? What will my children look like?
These brain sparks all indicate future time. Thus the speaker has determined that the human mind lives more in the future than in the present. The “carpe diem” notion which this speaker has demoted to a mere suggestion remains a shining goal that is touted but few ever feel they can reach.
Maybe because they have not considered the efficacy of American poet Frost’s suggestion over the latinate command of Roman poet Horace, that notion will remain that shining yet seldom attained goal for mosts folks.
Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”
Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” seems simple, but its repeated phrase, “And miles to go before I sleep,” offers room for speculation. Many of Frost’s poems present a tricky element, as he quipped about “The Road Not Taken” being “very tricky.”
Introduction with Text of “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”
The beloved American poet, Robert Frost, wrote many “tricky poems.” Frost has even quipped that his “The Road Not Taken” is a “very tricky poem.” One might wonder if he also thought that many of his other poems are tricky. Chiefly because of the final repeated line, his “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” may also be considered a highly tricky poem.
The main event of the poem remains uncomplicated: a man has paused his trek home and sits by a woodland viewing the scene as the snow is piling up in the woods. And the man’s thoughts as he continues to view the scene and what he expresses as he watches may suggest many questions regarding his thoughts and musings.
The speaker’s audience then must remain curious about the speaker’s reasons for stopping to muse: was it only to watch the snow filling up the woods? Why does he think his stopping is “queer”—a qualification he projected onto his horse? Why does he care if the owner of the woods would see him?
The questions raised are only suggested in the speaker’s report but never answered. Although the poem is very simple and uncomplicated without even the use of a literary device such as metaphor, it encourages much speculation.
Then too, a further puzzlement might be: what seemed to cause him to return to his ordinary consciousness from his trance-like musing on the loveliness of snow piling up in the woods?
Although critics who have interpreted the notion of suicide from the last repeated line can offer nothing concrete for such a bizarre reading, still that repetition may suggest something other than its literal claim. Readers are, of course, free to speculate about the difference in meanings of the repeated line, but at the same time they can still enjoy the simple beauty of the poem.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound’s the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
Reading
Image: “Musing on a Snowy Evening” – Created by ChatGPT – Titled by Linda Sue Grimes
Commentary on “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”
One of his tricky poems, Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” seems simple, but the repetition of its nuanced phrase, “And miles to go before I sleep,” offers room for interpretation.
Stanza 1: The Reason for Stopping
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.
Robert Frost’s simple poem, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening,” offers an uncomplicated scene wherein a man who was riding a horse pauses his ride by the roadside near a wooded area to observe as the snow is falling and piling up in the woods.
The poem is executed without extensive figurative language and literary devices such as metaphor and metonymy. However, the speaker’s claims do herald questions as noted in the introduction.
One is likely to wonder if the speaker would not have stopped if he thought the owner of the land would see him. Because the speaker mentions that fact, the listener cannot help but wonder why.
Stanza 2: The Horse Thinks What the Man Thinks
My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year.
The speaker then reports what he thinks his horse thinks: he claims that his horse must be thinking it an odd thing to be stopping before reaching home, and equally strange that the man would want to stop beside a woodland and lake while it is becoming dark outside.
The speaker suggests that the time of year is around December 22, the shortest day of the year and the beginning of winter in the Northern Hemisphere. That is the reason it is “the darkest evening of the year.”
It is obvious that it is the speaker himself who thinks his behavior is odd, stopping in the cold, dark winter weather to watch snow falling in a woods. That he projects his thoughts onto his “little horse” is, of course, merely a ruse that dramatizes his own actions.
Stanza 3: Soft Breezes and Flaky Snow
He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound’s the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake.
In stanza 3, the speaker reveals that he thinks the horse has deemed this stopping as odd because the horse is shaking his head and rattling his harness. The speaker continues to speculate about what the horse thinks; this time he suggests that his horse thinks he made a “mistake.” Such speculation about the cogitation of a horse actually becomes rather comical.
It has become quite clear that all of the thoughts the speaker has speculated about what the horse thinks is simply what the speaker himself is thinking. He seems to want to suggest that this stopping to watch snow filling up a woods is somehow unseemly or at least “queer”—in the original definition of the term.
The speaker then notices that other than the rattling of the horse’s harness it is utterly quiet with the only sound he hears being the wind gently blowing as the snowflakes whirl around and into the woodland.
Stanza 4: Many Miles to Keep Promises
The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
In stanza 4, the speaker paints the only pictorial details about what he is viewing, as he reports that the woodland is “lovely, dark and deep.” The bulk of the poem simply offers speculation about who might have seen him and what his little horse may be thinking.
Finally, the speaker ends his musing by claiming that he has made promises, and he must keep them. He must still be a fairly great distance from his residence as he claims that he has miles yet to travel before he can “sleep.” Those final three lines, actually, state the reason that the speaker must cease his musing on the beauty and quiet of the woodland and continue on with he journey back home.
But the claim that he “has miles to go before [he] sleep[s]” because it is repeated offers room for interpretation. Perhaps the second repetition has a different meaning from the first, or just perhaps that is the only way to end poem.
The Rime Scheme
It is quite likely that the final repetition has no further meaning from it first iteration. The rime scheme that the poet has crafted simply offers no way out of the poem except to repeat the line: AABA BBCB CCDC DDDD.
Notice that the poet has taken the last word in the third line of the first stanza—”here”—and rimed it with last word in the first—”queer,” second—”near,” and fourth—”year” lines in the second stanza.
He then repeats that scheme until the end of the poem. In theory, he could have continued down through the entire alphabet. With such a connected system of riming, there is no useful, harmonious way to end the poem, except the way he actually did.
Perhaps merely stopping is a option but not as graceful, and too, by the repetition in this particular poem, because of the subject matter, the repetition adds a nuance of meaning, promulgating the suggestion that the first part of the repetition has a different meaning form the second.
Repeated Line Open to Interpretation
By repeating the line, “And miles to go before I sleep,” the speaker has crafted an intriguing curiosity that cannot be mollified by the reader, scholar, critic, or commentarian. The poem offers no support for the idea that the speaker is suggesting he might be thinking about suicide. That interpretive speculation is overly melodramatic.
However, the speaker seems to awaken from a trance-like musing as he watches the snow piling up in the woods, and it does remain unclear what caused him to wake up from that dream-like musing. As laid out in the introduction, the piece does herald questions without providing any concrete answers.
Because these questions are not answered by the speaker of the poem, but also because Robert Frost called his poem, “The Road Not Taken,” “a tricky poem,” readers may possibly speculate that Frost held that his “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” was also a “very tricky poem.”
Ultimately, answers to those questions do not matter. The poem offers a serene scene of a man observing nature and then moving on. The meaningful beauty of the poem, one might argue, is in the lack of details and how a consummate poet can create a stunning, impressive piece of art based on such simplicity.
Image: Robert Frost in 1943. (Eric Schaal/The LIFE Picture Collection/Getty Images)
Robert Frost’s “Birches”
RobertFrost’s “Birches” is one of his most famous poems. It features a speaker looking back on a boyhood experience that he cherishes and would like to do again. Unfortunately, this “tricky poem” has suffered ludicrous readings that insert onanism into its innocent nostalgia.
Introduction and Text of “Birches”
The speaker in Robert Frost’s “Birches” is musing on a boyhood activity that he enjoyed. As a “swinger of birches,” he rode trees and felt the same euphoria that children feel who experience carnival rides such as ferris wheels or tilt-a-whirls.
The speaker also gives a rather thorough description of birch trees after an ice-storm. In addition, he makes a remarkable statement that hints at the yogic concept of reincarnation: “I’d like to get away from earth awhile / And then come back to it and begin over.” However, after making that striking remark, he backtracks perhaps thinking such a foolish thought might disqualify him from rational thought.
That remark however demonstrates that as human beings our deepest desires correspond to truth in ways that our culture in the Western world has plastered over through centuries of materialistic emphasis on the physical level of existence. The soul knows the truth and once in a blue moon a poet will stumble across it, even if he does not have the ability to fully recognize it.
Birches
When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy’s been swinging them. But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay As ice-storms do. Often you must have seen them Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning After a rain. They click upon themselves As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel. Soon the sun’s warmth makes them shed crystal shells Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust— Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away You’d think the inner dome of heaven had fallen. They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load, And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed So low for long, they never right themselves: You may see their trunks arching in the woods Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair Before them over their heads to dry in the sun. But I was going to say when Truth broke in With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm I should prefer to have some boy bend them As he went out and in to fetch the cows— Some boy too far from town to learn baseball, Whose only play was what he found himself, Summer or winter, and could play alone. One by one he subdued his father’s trees By riding them down over and over again Until he took the stiffness out of them, And not one but hung limp, not one was left For him to conquer. He learned all there was To learn about not launching out too soon And so not carrying the tree away Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise To the top branches, climbing carefully With the same pains you use to fill a cup Up to the brim, and even above the brim. Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish, Kicking his way down through the air to the ground. So was I once myself a swinger of birches. And so I dream of going back to be. It’s when I’m weary of considerations, And life is too much like a pathless wood Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs Broken across it, and one eye is weeping From a twig’s having lashed across it open. So was I once myself a swinger of birches. And so I dream of going back to be. It’s when I’m weary of considerations, And life is too much like a pathless wood Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs Broken across it, and one eye is weeping From a twig’s having lashed across it open. I’d like to get away from earth awhile And then come back to it and begin over. May no fate willfully misunderstand me And half grant what I wish and snatch me away Not to return. Earth’s the right place for love: I don’t know where it’s likely to go better. I’d like to go by climbing a birch tree, And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more, But dipped its top and set me down again. That would be good both going and coming back. One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
Reading
Commentary on “Birches”
Robert Frost’s “Birches” is one of the poet’s most famous and widely anthologized poems. And similar to his famous poem “The Road Not Taken,” “Birches” is also a very tricky poem, especially for certain onanistic mindsets.
First Movement: A View of Arching Birch Trees
When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy’s been swinging them. But swinging doesn’t bend them down to stay As ice-storms do. Often you must have seen them Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning After a rain. They click upon themselves As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
The speaker begins by painting a scene wherein birch trees are arching either “left or right” and contrasting their stance with “straighter darker tree.” He asserts his wish that some young lad has been riding those trees to bend them that way.
Then the speaker explains that some boy swinging on those trees, however, would not bend them permanently “[a]s ice-storms do.” After an ice-storm they become heavy with the ice that begins making clicking sounds. In the sunlight, they “turn many-colored” and they move until the motion “cracks and crazes their enamel.”
Second Movement: Ice Sliding off Trees
Soon the sun’s warmth makes them shed crystal shells Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust— Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away You’d think the inner dome of heaven had fallen. They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load, And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed So low for long, they never right themselves: You may see their trunks arching in the woods Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
The sun then causes the crazy ice to slide off the trees as it “shatter[s] and avalanch[es]” on to the snow. Having fallen from the trees, the ice looks like big piles of glass, and the wind comes along and brushes the piles into the ferns growing along the road.
The ice has caused the trees to remain bent for years as they continue to “trail their leaves on the ground.” Seeing the arched birches puts the speaker in mind of girls tossing their hair “over the heads to dry in the sun.”
Third Movement: Off on a Tangent
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun. But I was going to say when Truth broke in With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm I should prefer to have some boy bend them As he went out and in to fetch the cows— Some boy too far from town to learn baseball, Whose only play was what he found himself, Summer or winter, and could play alone. One by one he subdued his father’s trees By riding them down over and over again Until he took the stiffness out of them, And not one but hung limp, not one was left For him to conquer. He learned all there was To learn about not launching out too soon And so not carrying the tree away Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise To the top branches, climbing carefully With the same pains you use to fill a cup Up to the brim, and even above the brim. Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish, Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
At this point, the speaker realizes that he has gone off on a tangent with his description of how birches get bent by ice-storms. His real purpose he wants the reader/listener to know lies in another direction. That the speaker labels his aside about the ice-storm bending the birch tree “Truth” is somewhat bizarre. While his colorful description of the trees might be a true one, it hardly qualifies as “truth” and with a capital “T” no less.
“Truth” involves issues that relate to eternal verities, especially of a metaphysical or spiritual nature—not how ice-storms bend birch trees or any purely physical detail or activity. The speaker’s central wish in this discourse is to reminisce about this own experience of what he calls riding trees as a “swinger of birches.” Thus he describes the kind of boy who would have engaged in such an activity.
The boy lives so far from other people and neighbors that he must make his own entertainment; he is a farm boy whose time is primarily taken up farm work and likely some homework for school. He has little time, money, inclination for much of a social life, such as playing baseball or attending other sports games.
Of course, he lives far from the nearest town. The boy is inventive, however, and discovers that swinging on birch trees is a fun activity that offers him entertainment as well as the acquisition of a skill. He had to learn to climb the tree to the exact point where he can then “launch” his ride.
The boy has to take note of the point and time to swing out so as not to bend the tree all the way to ground. After attaining just the right position on the tree and beginning the swing downward, he can then let go of the tree and fling himself “outward, feet first.” And “with a swish,” he can begin kicking his feet as he soars through the air and lands on the ground.
Fourth Movement: The Speaker as a Boy
So was I once myself a swinger of birches. And so I dream of going back to be. It’s when I’m weary of considerations, And life is too much like a pathless wood Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs Broken across it, and one eye is weeping From a twig’s having lashed across it open. So was I once myself a swinger of birches. And so I dream of going back to be. It’s when I’m weary of considerations, And life is too much like a pathless wood Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs Broken across it, and one eye is weeping From a twig’s having lashed across it open.
Now the speaker reveals that he himself once engaged in the pastime of swinging on birches. That is how he knows so much about the difference it makes of a boy swinging on the trees and ice-storms for the arch of the trees. And also that he was once a “swinger of birches” explains how he knows the details of just how some boy would negotiate the trees as he swung on them.
The speaker then reveals that he would like to revisit that birch-swinging activity. Especially when he is tired of modern-day life, running the rat-race, facing all that the adult male has to contend with in the workday world, he day-dreams about this carefree days of swinging on birch trees.
Fifth Movement: Getting off the Ground
I’d like to get away from earth awhile And then come back to it and begin over. May no fate willfully misunderstand me And half grant what I wish and snatch me away Not to return. Earth’s the right place for love: I don’t know where it’s likely to go better. I’d like to go by climbing a birch tree, And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more, But dipped its top and set me down again. That would be good both going and coming back. One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
The speaker then asserts his wish to leave earth and come back again. Likely this speaker uses the get-away-from-earth notion to refer to the climbing of the birch tree, an act that would literally get him up off the ground away from earth. But he quickly asks that “no fate willfully misunderstand” him and snatch him away from the earth through death—he “knows” that such a snatch would not allow him to return.
The speaker then philosophizes that earth is “the right place for love” because he has no idea that there is any other place it could “go better.” So now he clarifies that he simply would like to climb back up a birch tree and swing out as he did when a boy: that way he would leave earth for the top of the tree and then return to earth after riding it down and swinging out from the tree. Finally, he offers a summing up of the whole experience that being swinger of birches—well, “one could do worse.”
Robert Frost claimed that his poem, “The Road Not Taken,” was a very tricky poem. He was correct, but other poems written by Frost have proved to be tricky as well. This poem is clearly and unequivocally a nostalgic piece by a speaker looking back at a boyhood pastimes that he cherishes. Some readers have fashioned an interpretation of masturbatory activity from this poem.
Robert Frost’s second most widely known poem “Birches” has suffered an faulty interpretation that equals the inaccurate call-to-nonconformity so often foisted onto “The Road Not Taken.” At times when readers misinterpret poems, they demonstrate more about themselves than they do about the poem. They are guilty of “reading into a poem” that which is not there on the page but is, in fact, in their own minds.
Readers Tricked by “Birches”
Robert Frost claimed that his poem “The Road Not Taken” was a tricky poem, but he must have known that any one of his poems was likely to trick the over-interpreter or the immature, self-involved reader. The following lines from Robert Frost’s “Birches” have been interpreted as referring to a young boy learning the pleasures of self-gratification:
One by one he subdued his father’s trees By riding them down over and over again Until he took the stiffness out of them, And not one but hung limp, not one was left For him to conquer. He learned all there was To learn about not launching out too soon
About those lines, Elizabeth Gregory, who used to post on the now defunct site Suite101, once claimed: “The lexical choices used to describe the boy’s activities are unmistakably sexual and indicate that he is discovering more than a love of nature.”
Indeed, one could accurately interpret that the boy is discovering something “more than the love of nature,” but what he is discovering (or has discovered actually since the poem is one of nostalgic looking back) is the spiritual pull of the soul upward toward heaven, not the downward sinking of the mind into sexual dalliance.
In the Mind of the Beholder, Not on the Page
Gregory’s interpretation of sexuality from these lines simply shows the interpretive fallacy of “reading into” a poem that which is not there, and that reader’s proposition that “the boy’s activities are unmistakably sexual” exhausts reason or even common sense.
The “lexical choices” that have tricked this reader are, no doubt, the terms “riding,” “stiffness,” “hung limp,” and “launching out too soon.” Thus that reader believes that Robert Frost wants his audience to envision a tall birch tree as a metaphor for a penis: at first the “tree (male member)” is “stiff (ready for employment),” and after the boy “rides them (has his way with them),” they hang “limp (are satiated).”
And from riding the birches, the boy learns to inhibit “launching out too soon (premature release).” It should be obvious that this is a ludicrous interpretation that borders on the obscene.
But because all of these terms refer quite specifically to the trees, not to the male genitalia or sexual activity, and because there is nothing else in the poem to make the reader understand them to be metaphorical, the thinker who applies a sexual interpretation is quite simply guilty of reading into the poem that which is not in the poem but quite obviously is in the thinker’s mind.
Some beginning readers of poems believe that a poem always has to mean something other than what is stated. They mistakenly think that nothing in a poem can be taken literally, but everything must be a metaphor, symbol, or image that stands in place of something else. And they often strain credulity grasping at the unutterably false notion of a “hidden meaning” behind the poem.
That Unfortunate Reader Not Alone
Gregory is not the only uncritical thinker to be tricked by Frost’s “Birches.” Distinguished critic and professor emeritus of Brown University, George Monteiro, once scribbled: “To what sort of boyhood pleasure would the adult poet like to return? Quite simply; it is the pleasure of onanism.” Balderdash! The adult male remains completely capable of self-gratification; he need not engage boyhood memories to commit that act.
One is coaxed to advise Professor Monteiro—and all of those who fantasize self-gratification in “Birches”—to keep their minds above their waists while engaging in literary criticism and commentary.
Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” is often misinterpreted; it does not encourage nonconformity. It dramatizes the difficulty of making choices and then living with the consequences.
Introduction with Text of “The Road Not Taken”
Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” has been one of the most anthologized, analyzed, and quoted poems in American poetry. It has also remained one of the most misunderstood and thus misinterpreted poems in the English language.
Published in 1916 in Robert Frost’s poetry collection titled, Mountain Interval, the poem has since been interpreted primarily as piece that prompts non-conforming behavior, a philosophy of the efficacy of striking out on one’s own, instead of following the herd. Thus the poem is often quoted at commencement ceremonies. However, a close look at the poem reveals a different focus.
Instead of offering a moralizing piece of advice, the poem merely demonstrates how memory often glamorizes past choices despite the fact that the differences between the choices were not so great. It also shows how the mind tends to focus on the choice one had to abandon in favor of the one selected.
Edward Thomas and “The Road Not Taken”
Robert Frost lived in England from 1912 to 1914; he became fast friends with fellow poet Edward Thomas. Frost has explained that “The Road Not Taken” was prompted by Thomas, who would continue to fret over the path the couple could not take as they were out walking in the woods near their village.
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost Reads “The Road Not Taken”
Commentary on “The Road Not Taken”
Robert Frost called “The Road Not Taken” “very tricky.” Some readers have not heeded his advice to be careful with this one. Thus, a misunderstanding brings this poem into places for which it is not suitable, such as graduation ceremonies, wherein the speaker has taken as his theme the efficacy of strong individualism as opposed to herd conformity.
First Stanza: The Decision and the Process of Deciding
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;
In the first stanza, the speaker reveals that he has been out walking in the woods, and he approaches two diverging pathways; he stops and peers down each path as far as he can. He then avers that he would like to walk down each path, but he is sure he does not have enough time to experience both. He knows he must take one path and leave the other behind, and so he commences his decision making process.
Second Stanza: The Reluctant Choice
Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,
After scrutinizing both pathways, he decides to start walking down the one that seems “less traveled.” He admits they were “really about the same.” They were, of course, not exactly the same, but in reality there was not much difference between them as far as he could tell from where he stood. Both paths had been “traveled,” but he fancies that he chooses the one because it was a little less traveled than the other.
Notice at this point how the actual choice in the poem seems to deviate from the title. The speaker takes the road less taken, not the one “not taken,” as the title seems to suggest. That fact was, no doubt, part of the trickiness that Frost mentioned as he discussed the genesis of this poem, calling it “very tricky.”
The title also lends to the moralizing interpretation. The path not taken is the one not taken by the speaker—both roads have been taken by others, but the speaker being just one individual could take only one.
Third Stanza: Really More Similar Than Different
And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.
Because the decision making process can be complex and lengthy, the speaker continues to reveal his thinking about the two paths into the third stanza. But again he reports how the paths were really more similar than different.
Fourth Stanza: The Ambiguous Sigh
I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.
In the final stanza, the speaker projects how he will look back on his decision in the distant future. He surmises that he will remember taking a “less traveled” road, and that decision “has made all the difference.”
The problem with interpreting the poem as advice for individualism and non-conformity is that the speaker is only speculating about how his decision will affect his future. He cannot know for certain that his decision was a wise one, because he has not yet lived it.
Even though he predicts that he will think it was a positive choice when he says, it “made all the difference,” a phrase that usually indicates a good difference, in reality, he cannot know for sure.
The use of the word “sigh” is also ambiguous. A sigh can indicate relief or regret——two nearly opposite states of mind. Therefore, whether the sigh comports with a positive difference or negative cannot be known to the speaker at the time he is musing in the poem. He simply has not lived the experience yet.
“Tricky Poem”
Frost referred to this poem as a tricky poem, and he admonished readers “to be careful of that one.” He knew that human memory tends to gloss over past mistakes and glamorize the trivial. He also was aware that a quick, simplistic perusal of the poem could yield an erroneous understanding of it.
The poet also has stated that this poem reflects his friend Edward Thomas’ attitude while out walking in the woods near London, England. Thomas continued to wonder what he might be missing by not being able to walk both paths, thus the title’s emphasis on the road “not taken.”
“Road” as a Symbol for Life’s “Path”
In this commentary, readers may notice that I have used the term “path” instead of road in most the references to that entity in the poem. The poem begins by placing the speaker in a “yellow wood.” Thus, the speaker has encountered two different pathways through the wood because it more likely that a wood has paths (pathways) than roads. Paths are for walking; roads are for vehicle traffic.
Thus, I suggest that the speaker is employing the term “road” as a symbol of one’s pathway through life——not a a literal road in a wood. Even though the speaker had used the term “travel” in the opening lines, he later limits that mode of travel to foot travel when he says, “long I stood” and later, “In leaves no step had trodden black.” He “stood” because he had been walking. And “step had trodden black” refers to the condition of the leaves having been walked upon.
Holy Sonnet I “Thou hast made me, and shall Thy work decay?”
A speaker suffering physical pain and psychic anguish is conversing with his Belovèd Creator (God), as he prayerfully and meditatively muses upon his relationship with mortality and his eventual experience of immortality.
Introduction with Text of Holy Sonnet I “Thou hast made me, and shall Thy work decay?”
John Donne’s Holy Sonnets feature 19 poems that also function as prayers. Each poem’s form combines features of the Petrarchan style coupled with the Shakespearean use of the final rimed couplet; thus, the rime scheme for each sonnet is ABBAABBACDCDEE.
The Holy Sonnets spotlight a speaker supplicating to the Divine Creator (Heavenly Father or God) to deliver him from his self-created condition that has resulted in despair and decay. In the throes of a degenerating physical encasement, the humbled speaker is seeking succor from the only source able to give it—his Creator.
In the opening Holy Sonnet, the speaker is addressing his Heavenly Father, expressing his bewilderment that the great Heavenly Creator could fashion a being such as he only to permit him as his child to descend into the disillusionment and despair of decay as he confronts death.
Holy Sonnet 1 “Thou hast made me, and shall Thy work decay”
Thou hast made me, and shall Thy work decay? Repair me now, for now mine end doth haste; I run to death, and Death meets me as fast, And all my pleasures are like yesterday. I dare not move my dim eyes any way; Despair behind, and Death before doth cast Such terror, and my feeble flesh doth waste By sin in it, which it towards hell doth weigh. Only Thou art above, and when towards Thee By Thy leave I can look, I rise again; But our old subtle foe so tempteth me, That not one hour myself I can sustain. Thy grace may wing me to prevent his art And thou like adamant draw mine iron heart.
Commentary on Holy Sonnet 1 “Thou hast made me, and shall Thy work decay”
The speaker’s health is declining as he suffers from an aging and crippling physical encasement. He holds a long conversation with his Creator, as he, with prayer-like dramas, contemplates his life condition.
First Quatrain: Contemplating the Inevitable
Thou hast made me, and shall Thy work decay? Repair me now, for now mine end doth haste; I run to death, and Death meets me as fast, And all my pleasures are like yesterday.
The speaker seems to be conflicted as he addresses his Creator. He is trying to determine how and why his Divine Belovèd would create him and then allow him to suffer so many agonies of life. He suddenly makes the demand of his Belovèd Lord to restore him to health and make him whole again. He reveals that he intuits that the end of his life is approaching.
He senses he is moving so quickly toward death that he, therefore, can no longer experience any pleasure in living, as he always had before this period of his descent into illness began.
The speaker has always felt near to depended upon the Divine Creator, keeping the Divine close to his life’s engagements. That he could so easily command the Divine Belovèd to perform any act demonstrates the closeness that he has nurtured throughout his lifetime. Because the Blessèd Creator has created His children, those children of the Divine should always take comfort in speaking to Him—even at times chiding Him.
They should also feel free to demand from their Creator those things and situations that are necessary to the offspring for living their lives and performing their earthly duties. And with this speaker, it is despite his spiritual background that he finds himself in such dire straits.
Second Quatrain: The Looming Descent into Darkness
I dare not move my dim eyes any way; Despair behind, and Death before doth cast Such terror, and my feeble flesh doth waste By sin in it, which it towards hell doth weigh.
The speaker confesses that he can no longer employ the courage to peer about him because he fears sensing and being reminded of his past despair. And worse, he fears being reminded of the fact that death is rapidly approaching. That his demise is looming continues to haunt him and render him terrorized.
His bodily encasement has been rendered enfeebled from engaging in sense-urged acts of degradation that he allowed himself to pursue with such abandon during his lifetime—especially during his younger years.
The speaker even suspects that his poor soul may be cast into hell because of his lifetime of debauchery and useless engagement in sensual pleasures. He remains on the cusp of accepting his responsibility for his lot, but he, nevertheless, still senses the need to confess and seek forgiveness and reparations from his Divine Belovèd Creator.
Third Quatrain: Struggle against the Satanic Force
Only Thou art above, and when towards Thee By Thy leave I can look, I rise again; But our old subtle foe so tempteth me, That not one hour myself I can sustain.
The speaker willingly accepts the fact that his Belovèd Heavenly Father remains in control of his life, all of his actions, and especially his death. He positions the Creator “above”—humbly suggesting that only toward the Divine can he securely direct his glances.
His realization of the infallible presence of his Creator even assets him in rallying to a certain degree. Any small relief from pain, regardless of how brief, can offer a welcome respite.
However, Satan, the old tormenter—”our old foe”—again flaunts his magic on the sense-enslaved body, and the speaker agains senses how difficult it is to remain focused on the only Presence that truly matters.
The speaker always remains aware that he must work and strive to keep his consciousness above the physical encasement in order to remain securely locked in the arms of the Divine Belovèd, but he continues to struggle even as he continue to strive to remain spiritually focused.
The Couplet: Mercy and Salvation through Grace
Thy grace may wing me to prevent his art And thou like adamant draw mine iron heart.
In the couplet, the speaker offers his most affirmative pronouncement. He most vociferously insists that only the intersession of the Heavenly Father will be able to stop Satan from practicing his magic of delusion and degradation on the speaker. The speaker makes it clear to himself and anyone who is listening that it is the Divine Belovèd alone who is capable of attracting and keeping the attention of the speaker.
The speaker metaphorically compares his heart to iron and the Divine Creator to a magnet. He fashions his claim with a set of images that concentrates the motions of flying—”wing me”—to the hard texture of the hardest stone or metal “adamant.”
The speaker, thus, is placing his total faith in the “grace” that the Lord will fly to him and attract his heart away from the pleasure-mad, sin-inducing scheme of the satanic force.
Holy Sonnet II “As due by many titles I resign”
The speaker is bemoaning his fear that he may not be capable of purifying himself sufficiently for his Belovèd Creator to lift him up into divine unity.
Introduction with Text of Holy Sonnet II “As due by many titles I resign”
In John Donne’s Holy Sonnet II: “As due by many titles I resign,” the speaker is again lamenting his aging, decaying physical encasement, but he is also continuing to mourn his strength of spirit. He suspects that he has likely defiled himself through his earlier involvement in worldly activities that have so damaged his being he may not be able to purify himself.
He regrets the fact that the satanic force, a force of lust and depravity, may continue to dominate him, while the Divine Creator, the force of love, may simply ignore him. The speaker’s melancholy remains a result of his own doing, and he well understands his predicament. He continues to pray, however, as he describes exactly his desperate position.
He understands that he is made divinely, but he still fears that he has squandered too much divine energy to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, or achieve Divine Unity. The speaker’s enlightening dramas offer magnificent examples of a suffering soul that continues to engage his Divine Belovèd, in order to both understand and to bring himself nearer to his Divine Creator/Father.
Holy Sonnet II “As due by many titles I resign”
As due by many titles I resign Myself to thee, O God. First I was made By Thee; and for Thee, and when I was decay’d Thy blood bought that, the which before was Thine. I am Thy son, made with Thyself to shine, Thy servant, whose pains Thou hast still repaid, Thy sheep, Thine image, and—till I betray’d Myself—a temple of Thy Spirit divine. Why doth the devil then usurp on me? Why doth he steal, nay ravish, that’s Thy right? Except Thou rise and for Thine own work fight, O! I shall soon despair, when I shall see That Thou lovest mankind well, yet wilt not choose me, And Satan hates me, yet is loth to lose me.
Commentary on Holy Sonnet II “As due by many titles I resign”
As the speaker laments his sad lot in life, still he also puts on display his undying faith in the grace of his Belovèd Creator (God). Although he remains in a quandary of doubt, he shows that he has the spiritual strength to eventually pull himself out of it.
First Quatrain: Seeking Absolution
As due by many titles I resign Myself to thee, O God. First I was made By Thee; and for Thee, and when I was decay’d Thy blood bought that, the which before was Thine.
The speaker, who has served in a number of capacities on the physical plane of existence, is now to addressing his Belovèd Maker, seeking absolution for his beleaguered body and mind. The speaker first professes his dedication of his entire being to the Divine Reality, without Whom he would never have been brought into existence.
The speaker states that he was in the beginning created by the Heavenly Father. He then asserts that he was not only brought into being for himself and for the world, but also that his Blessèd Creator fashioned him for Himself. The sentiment of the Creator/Father bringing into existence humankind for Himself remains a missing element in many sermons and prayers.
Such a sentiment would assist in clarifying the activities and trajectory of the Ineffable as It trails Its behavior through the often incredulous and always bewildered world of humankind. The speaker then alludes to the passion and crucifixion of the Christ, juxtaposing what at first seems an odd comparison of his own physical “decay” to the taking on a karma that Jesus the Christ endured.
Jesus the Christ bought back with his blood a large segment of all humankind for past, present, and future generations. The speaker well comprehends that sacred, humble, and generous act. But he also knows that that selfless act merely bought back what was already in possession of the Divine Belovèd Father.
Second Quatrain: Made in the Image of Divinity
The speaker then offers a significant catalogue of images that reveals the speaker’s comprehension of his place in relationship to the Ultimate Creator (God). First of all, he is the son of that Creator, as all children of God remain children of the Divine Father.
The speaker is aware that his soul shines forth as does the spirit of the Heavenly Parent. As a child of Divinity, the speaker also realizes that he is the Lord’s “servant,” and he is one whose trials and tribulations have been taken back by the grace of the Divine Belovèd through Jesus the Christ.
The speaker then also affirms that he is also a “sheep” of the Divine Shepherd. Clearly, the speaker is the image of the Divine Creator, for he understands that the Blessèd Maker-Father has, indeed, created him in His image, as all holy scripture avers.
However, this speaker is now confessing that his own sins have led him astray as he earlier in his life went about behaving against the trust of the gift of life that had been bestowed on him by his Belovèd Heavenly Father.
The speaker believes that his body “temple” has been corrupted; he had been created to bear the physical encasement of the spirit divine, and until he acted against that spirit, he had been perfect.
Third Quatrain: The Age-Old Battle of Good vs Evil
The speaker then designs a pair of questions that show his clear awareness of the answers. He understands why the “devil” is seeking to defile him, even as he puts on display his inquiry. Also, he is aware of why that satanic force has attempted to “steal” what belongs to the Divine Belovèd Reality.
The speaker has proven and will continue to prove his clear understanding that it is his own sin which has allowed the satanic force, colorfully named “the devil,” to “ravish” and steal from him what his Heavenly Father-God has bestowed upon him.
The speaker then bemoans that if the Ultimate Reality does not bring to the forefront his own particular power in this poor straying child of His, that child will “soon despair.” The speaker separates his thought between the third quatrain and the couplet in order to emphasize the severity and the profundity of its importance.
The Couplet: Satan’s Tight Grasp
The speaker harbors extensive fears that he will not be capable of atoning for the sins that he so carelessly committed early in his life. He thus lays out his issues before his Divine Creator, alerting Him that if or when he senses that the Blessèd Father loves all humankind but fails to unite his soul with Ultimate Spirit, he will then find himself descending mightily into despair.
The speaker then offers a useful contrast between the force of Good and the force of Evil: Good (God, Divine Reality, Creator) loves humankind, while Evil (the devil, Satan) hates humankind.
However, the speaker remains in agony that Satan, the one who hates him will not deign to let him go. Therefore, it seems that he must remain in doubt that he can become purified enough that his Belovèd Creator Father will lift him up into his goal of unity with the Divine.
Holy Sonnet III “O! might those sighs and tears return again”
The speaker continues to lament his lot—that he now must suffer the pain of having transgressed against his higher nature earlier in his lifetime.
Introduction and Text of Holy Sonnet III “O! might those sighs and tears return again”
John Donne’s speaker in Holy Sonnet III finds himself lamenting through many episodes of tears and the agony of sighing that have left him in a deep state of melancholic grief. He avers that those who have committed ordinary sins against society such as thieves and the overweening proud, at least, have past joys to think on. He cannot look back at his own transgressions with but a jaundiced eye. He committed his sins in suffering, and now he must face continued punishment as he experiences great sorrow for his earlier transgressions.
Holy Sonnet III “O! might those sighs and tears return again”
O! might those sighs and tears return again Into my breast and eyes, which I have spent, That I might in this holy discontent Mourn with some fruit, as I have mourn’d in vain. In mine idolatry what showers of rain Mine eyes did waste? what griefs my heart did rent? That sufferance was my sin, I now repent; ‘Cause I did suffer, I must suffer pain. Th’ hydroptic drunkard, and night-scouting thief, The itchy lecher, and self-tickling proud Have the remembrance of past joys, for relief Of coming ills. To poor me is allow’d No ease ; for long, yet vehement grief hath been Th’ effect and cause, the punishment and sin.
Reading of Holy Sonnet III interspersed with scenes from “Breaking Bad”:
Commentary on Holy Sonnet III “O! might those sighs and tears return again”
The speaker is continuing to lament his lot of suffering the pain of having transgressed against his higher nature earlier in his lifetime.
First Quatrain: A Request for Deliverance
O! might those sighs and tears return again Into my breast and eyes, which I have spent, That I might in this holy discontent Mourn with some fruit, as I have mourn’d in vain.
The speaker begins his lament by requesting that all the sorrow that has caused him to shed tears and engaging in sighing come again to him so that he can ultimately find some results from his suffering. Thus far, he has cried and sighed and mourned without consequence. His vain lament seems to have gone unnoticed by his Divine Beloved, and he has determined to continue in his heretofore vain efforts until he has touched the heart of God and has proof of his connection with the Divine.
Second Quatrain: Wasted Tears
In mine idolatry what showers of rain Mine eyes did waste? what griefs my heart did rent? That sufferance was my sin, I now repent; ‘Cause I did suffer, I must suffer pain.
The speaker now castigates himself for his “idolatry” and how that sin has caused him to weep tears in abundance. He exaggerates his crying spells calling them colorfully, “showers of rain.” And he also asserts that his eyes have wasted that water on his grief. But the speaker frames his mention of vast tears and griefs as questions, in order to usher in his conclusions regarding their origin.
The speaker then lays the blame for his tears and grief at the door of his “sin.” He remarks that he is suffering because of his earlier sin. But now he comes before his Lord Creator to “repent.” He reports that because of the sin has suffered he now must endure “pain.” He demonstrates his awareness of the concept of sowing and reaping, although he may have come to understand that concept a little too late for his liking.
Third Quatrain: Memory of Earlier Happiness
Th’ hydroptic drunkard, and night-scouting thief, The itchy lecher, and self-tickling proud Have the remembrance of past joys, for relief Of coming ills. To poor me is allow’d
The speaker now catalogues a list of other types of sinners, including the “drunkard,” the “thief,” the “lecher,” and the “proud.” He asserts all of these sinners who have sown evil in their wake at least possess a memory of “past joys.” And he surmises that those joys may somehow mitigate the “coming ills” that are sure to follow their transgressions.
The speaker is now setting up a contrast between himself and his commission of sin and that of what one might think of as ordinary sins against society. This speaker has not named his own sin, and thus his audience must assume that his sin is a private matter, a transgression that only a union between himself and Maker can mitigate, which would render that transgression of even mightier import and seriousness.
The Couplet: Harsh Self-Judgment
No ease; for long, yet vehement grief hath been Th’ effect and cause, the punishment and sin.
Beginning in the fourth quatrain and completing itself in the couplet, the evaluation of the speaker’s lot determines that this speaker thinks of himself as “poor me,” and to this “poor me” no comfort is forthcoming, thus far.
The speaker believes this state of his condition to be what it is because for a long time his deep pain remained the effect of his transgression, while the cause of his pain is the “punishment” that he now must accept for the sin he has committed.
Holy Sonnet IV “O, my black soul, now thou art summoned”
John Donne’s Holy Sonnet IV finds the speaker continuing to lament his sorrowful state of being, but then he admonishes himself about which course of action he must take to mitigate his circumstances. He continues to judge himself harshly but also continues to seek grace and relief.
Introduction with Text of Holy Sonnet IV “O, my black soul, now thou art summoned”
In “Holy Sonnet IV,” the speaker continues his lament of his current melancholy state. He likens his errant soul to those who have broken laws that landed them in prison and to those who have committed treason against their own native lands.
The speaker remains harsh with himself, as he continues to explore how he came to be in such dire straits. He judges himself without excuse, often commanding himself what to think and what to do.
Holy Sonnet IV “O, my black soul, now thou art summoned”
O, my black soul, now thou art summoned By sickness, Death’s herald and champion; Thou’rt like a pilgrim, which abroad hath done Treason, and durst not turn to whence he’s fled; Or like a thief, which till death’s doom be read, Wisheth himself deliver’d from prison, But damn’d and haled to execution, Wisheth that still he might be imprisoned. Yet grace, if thou repent, thou canst not lack; But who shall give thee that grace to begin? O, make thyself with holy mourning black, And red with blushing, as thou art with sin; Or wash thee in Christ’s blood, which hath this might, That being red, it dyes red souls to white.
Commentary on Holy Sonnet IV “O, my black soul, now thou art summoned”
Again, the speaker finds himself lamenting his painful lot but then admonishing himself about which course of action he must take to remedy his situation.
First Quatrain: Soul-Sickness
O, my black soul, now thou art summoned By sickness, Death’s herald and champion; Thou’rt like a pilgrim, which abroad hath done Treason, and durst not turn to whence he’s fled;
The speaker’s despondency remains at such a degraded level that he labels his own vital essence, “my black soul.” Addressing his beleaguered soul, he states that that soul is now being called by illness. He further describes the unhealthful state of “sickness” as a “herald and champion” of Death.
The speaker then likens his poor “black soul” to a citizen traveler who has committed the act of treason against his own country in a foreign land and dares not return to his own native land. This treasonous comparison is quite apt.
The soul of each unenlightened individual remains connected to that mind and heart that will continue to suffer until they can become aware of that perfect soul that is their true origin and destination.
Although the soul is a spark of Divinity and remains perfect even when incarnated, the human mind and heart can become so ravaged by trials and tribulations that it feels that even the soul is suffering along with them.
The illusion of the mayic state is so strong that even the well-informed who possess an abundance of faith may suffer this soul-sickness. While the soul remains the only harbor of total enlightenment, those ultra difficult circumstances confuse and befuddle the mind and heart influencing them to accept falsehood over truth.
Second Quatrain: Comparisons of Sins to Crimes
Or like a thief, which till death’s doom be read, Wisheth himself deliver’d from prison, But damn’d and haled to execution, Wisheth that still he might be imprisoned
The speaker then continues with a further comparison, likening his soul to a “thief.” And this thief has desired to be released from prison, but then he is summoned to be executed for his crimes and then wishes to remain in prison, for at least he would still be alive.
The speaker’s earlier sins have caused him great regret and now he is urged to find comparisons that speak to his situation. He knows he is merely operating under the spiritual law of sowing and reaping. But he will not remain merely depressed or in neutrality about his lot; he will explore it in order to understand completely the laws of karma and retribution.
Third Quatrain: Repentance Leading to Grace
Yet grace, if thou repent, thou canst not lack; But who shall give thee that grace to begin? O, make thyself with holy mourning black, And red with blushing, as thou art with sin;
The speaker then affirms that repentance is the way to find grace. Still the speaker admits that he is finding it difficult to even begin to repent. He then commands himself to accept his mournful state of “black” because through truth he knows he can reach the holy.
The speaker then also commands himself to “blush” red for the act of blushing demonstrates his complete acceptance that he has indeed sinned against his holy temple and diminished his health and mental capacity.
He accepts his lot as he knows he has, in fact, brought about his sorrowful situation, and he now remains in a melancholy state exploring all avenues that will lead him in the proper direction back to soul purity in the arms of the Beloved Creator.
The Couplet: Only Through Christ
Or wash thee in Christ’s blood, which hath this might, That being red, it dyes red souls to white.
As the speaker has commanded himself to accept his soul-sickness and blush to show contrition, he also adds that another possibility for attaining grace is to unite with Christ-Consciousness, the ultimate goal of humanity.
Once untied with Christ-Consciousness, the soul comes into contact with it Divine Father, Whom it has always craved, even as it has failed to seek that Blessed Reality. The Christian metaphor for uniting with Christ-Consciousness is “to be washed in Christ’s blood.”
Thus the aptness of the “red” of that metaphoric blood possessing the powerful ability to turn those blushing, sinful beings with tainted souls to “white,” which is a metaphor for the state of soul being after removal of all sin and sins’ affects. In addition to a metaphor, “white” remains a symbol for Divine Unity, as it connotes cleanliness and purity.
Holy Sonnet V “I am a little world made cunningly”
The speaker in John Donne’s Holy Sonnet V continues lamenting his lot while commanding of his Belovèd Creator that He use even the strongest methods for cleansing the speaker’s heart, mind, and soul. He wishes to cleanse himself to become pure before his Lord.
Introduction with Text of Holy Sonnet V “I am a little world made cunningly”
In John Donne’s Holy Sonnet V, the speaker again is bemoaning his past sins, as he has been doing in Holy Sonnets I-IV. He begins by describing a spiritual truth: he, like all of humankind, is essentially a soul, or spiritual essence, which he colorfully calls “an angelic sprite,” who possesses a body made of “elements.”
He is seeking from his Blessèd Creator release from the miserably, pain, and agony caused by his sinning in his earlier life. He is desperate to cleanse himself of those sins so that he may unite with his Divine Essence and be relieved of the suffering of mind, body, and soul.
Although the speaker has demonstrated his spiritual awareness that he is a soul that possesses a body, nevertheless, he continues to lament that his many past sins have cause him to require extended cleansing to erase those sins. He thus is demanding that his Divine Belovèd (God) remove those sins through the strongest methods, even from drowning with water to burning with fire.
Holy Sonnet V “I am a little world made cunningly”
I am a little world made cunningly Of elements, and an angelic sprite; But black sin hath betray’d to endless night My world’s both parts, and, O, both parts must die. You which beyond that heaven which was most high Have found new spheres, and of new land can write, Pour new seas in mine eyes, that so I might Drown my world with my weeping earnestly, Or wash it if it must be drown’d no more. But O, it must be burnt; alas! the fire Of lust and envy burnt it heretofore, And made it fouler; let their flames retire, And burn me, O Lord, with a fiery zeal Of Thee and Thy house, which doth in eating heal.
Commentary in Holy Sonnet V “I am a little world made cunningly”
The speaker is showing his spiritual awareness that he is a soul encased in a physical body. He continues to lament his many past sins, as he seeks relief from the ravages of their effect on his body, mind, and soul.
First Quatrain: A Spiritual Essence in a Physical Form
I am a little world made cunningly Of elements, and an angelic sprite; But black sin hath betray’d to endless night My world’s both parts, and, O, both parts must die.
The speaker colorfully describes himself as a “little world” composed of “elements” plus “an angelic sprite.” His physical encasement, or physical body, is made of atoms and molecules which he conglomerates as elements, while infusing that encasement is his soul that he playfully refers to as the “angelic sprite.”
This delightful combination of elements and soul would remain in a haven of joyful bliss, except for one thing—”black sin.” That black sin has caused him to betray treasonously his physical and spiritual parts. And now he laments that both parts must be purged of that sin.
Second Quatrain: His Myriad Tears
You which beyond that heaven which was most high Have found new spheres, and of new land can write, Pour new seas in mine eyes, that so I might Drown my world with my weeping earnestly,
As one who has ranged beyond the heavenly sphere and discovered new areas of existence and is now capable of spreading the news about those new discoveries, the speaker then addresses a concept of his Divine Creator. The speaker then begs of this Manifestation to cleanse his vision—indeed to cleanse his whole world through his continued earnest “weeping.”
The speaker exaggerates the act of cleansing by calling for the God-Manifestion to “pour new seas in [his] eyes.” And to “[d]rown [his] world.” The fact is that he has cried so many tears that he likely feels that such exaggeration is only on a small scale.
Third Quatrain: Water vs Fire
Or wash it if it must be drown’d no more. But O, it must be burnt; alas! the fire Of lust and envy burnt it heretofore, And made it fouler; let their flames retire,
The speaker then lightens his command somewhat as he adds an alternative to the drowning by water. He asks, at least, to be washed if his sins can no longer be drowned. He then turns to cleansing through fire, stating that his sins must “be burnt.”
He realizes that the “fire / Of lust and envy” has burned in his heart until now. It has caused his once pure heart to become foul.The speaker thus asks for cleansing through fire that corresponds to the corruption that has engaged his body and mind.
If water is not strong enough to cleanse through his myriad tears, then perhaps fire may be able to burn through his dross, making him pure once more. He knows he has cried and sought forgiveness through both liquid and etherial means.
The Couplet: To Become Clean Again
And burn me, O Lord, with a fiery zeal Of Thee and Thy house, which doth in eating heal.
The speaker continues with the fire as cleanser metaphor, asking the Divine Creator to burn him in a “fiery zeal.” In the house of the Lord, the speaker wishes to remain. He is aware that the cleansing effect of fire which “eat[s]” all bacteria and leaves behind a cleansed canvass would afford him succor after having burned his sins to ash.
The speaker seems to be tossed hither and yon in his metaphoric ramblings for mercy. He sometimes exaggerates his own culpability and offers an equal exaggeration in order to correct his wrong doing.
The speaker, however, continues to possess a strong level of courage and a constant direction as he seeks to cleanse his body, mind, and soul in order to unite with his Divine Belovèd Father-God.
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Holy Sonnet VI “This is my play’s last scene ; here heavens appoint”
John Donne’s speaker in Holy Sonnet VI is very close to death. He is thus speculating about the nature of his existence after death has released his soul from its physical body.
Introduction with Text of Holy Sonnet VI “This is my play’s last scene ; here heavens appoint”
As the speaker in John Donne’s Holy Sonnet VI experiences his final moments drawing him closer to death, he likens his life to a play, and he is in the final scene. He senses that he has been moving with considerable speed through his journey back to God.
His greatest goal is to be brought out of the ravages of sin that have defiled his body causing it to writhe in pain as his mind continues to remain deep in melancholy. The speaker puts on display in each sonnet evidence that his faith remain deep and abiding. He depends upon his Creator now more than he has ever in the past.
And his active, creative mind creates his dramatic scenes that display his musings and speculations regarding his last moments as well as his possibly journey that will continue after his soul has flows from its physical encasement.
Holy Sonnet VI “This is my play’s last scene ; here heavens appoint”
This is my play’s last scene ; here heavens appoint My pilgrimage’s last mile ; and my race Idly, yet quickly run, hath this last pace; My span’s last inch, my minute’s latest point; And gluttonous Death will instantly unjoint My body and soul, and I shall sleep a space; But my ever-waking part shall see that face, Whose fear already shakes my every joint. Then, as my soul to heaven her first seat takes flight, And earth-born body in the earth shall dwell, So fall my sins, that all may have their right, To where they’re bred and would press me to hell. Impute me righteous, thus purged of evil, For thus I leave the world, the flesh, the devil.
Commentary on Holy Sonnet VI “This is my play’s last scene ; here heavens appoint”
The speaker in John Donne’s Holy Sonnet VI realizes that he is now very near to the time that he will be abandoning his physical encasement. In this musing, he is examining the possibilities for the journey he will take up after the process of undergoing death has led his soul out of its physical encasement.
First Quatrain: The Final Moments of Life
This is my play’s last scene ; here heavens appoint My pilgrimage’s last mile ; and my race Idly, yet quickly run, hath this last pace; My span’s last inch, my minute’s latest point;
The speaker employs a theatre metaphor which then transforms into a racing metaphor, wherein the speaker now confides that his last moments of life have arrived. He has always been guided by his Creator, and he is aware that God has been guarding and guiding all of his thoughts and actions.
The speaker is aware that his life has sped by, even as he has much too often passed his time in idleness. He, therefore, now senses that he is facing the last phase of the race he has been engaged in, and not only is he now in his last pace, but he is also near the last “inch.” He is experiencing now the pinnacle of his final minute.
Interestingly, John Donne preached what has become known as his own funeral sermon. That final sermon is aptly titled, “Death’s Duel.” Therefore, that he should have created a similar dramatic scene in his Holy Sonnets is not al all unexpected. The speaker’s intensity increases throughout the entire sequence as he moves closer to that momentous day of moving from his physical body.
Second Quatrain: Hungry Death Approaches
And gluttonous Death will instantly unjoint My body and soul, and I shall sleep a space; But my ever-waking part shall see that face, Whose fear already shakes my every joint.
The speaker then addresses the issue of death which will prompt the disconnection of his soul from its physical encasement. He muses that he may “sleep” for a period of time after leaving his body; he speculates that the soul may seem to pause after escaping the cage of the body.
He assumes that that state of the soul might be considered metaphorically to resemble “sleep.” After that hiatus, although his body will no long be operational, his “ever-waking part”—his soul— will become capable of experiencing God’s face. The speaker’s respect and sense of awe for his Heavenly Father has already begun to cause him to experience physical trembling, as he anticipates joining his Creator-God.
Third Quatrain: Leaving All Sins
Then, as my soul to heaven her first seat takes flight, And earth-born body in the earth shall dwell, So fall my sins, that all may have their right, To where they’re bred and would press me to hell.
The speaker continues his musing. He avers that even as his soul is reposing in heaven, his physical encasement—body—which was born of earth will continue to exist “in the earth.” His sins will be taken back to where they originally began—to the place that they may still possess force but will no longer be able to ensnare the speaker.
Strong forces which result through sense awareness influence the mind to become engaged all kinds of activities. Unfortunately, many of those activities that often result in a physical and mental imbalance include physical as well as mental illness. Where those forces begin remains a mystery.
However, the interaction between and among the sense apparatuses, the nerves, and the brain remain in force as long as the soul continues to occupy a physical body. Those trammels of the senses are singularly responsible for the sin that plays out on the physical plane, or earth-level, of existence. Those same sense trammels are culpable for suicides which are merely attempts to seek relief from the misery and distress resulting from over-indulgences of sense pleasures.
The Couplet: Delivered from Evil
Impute me righteous, thus purged of evil, For thus I leave the world, the flesh, the devil.
The speaker then insists that the Undeclared Force impute to him righteousness as It delivers him from the clutches of evil. He avers that his abandoning this world is for the purpose of leaving the flesh as well as the devil.
He remains confident that he will be cleansed of those sins and then be capable of enjoying the purity that exists for him on the heavenly higher levels of existence. The devil along with evil and sin are earth plane realities only.This speaker’s entire being—including his heart, mind, and soul—now remain focuses on the heavenly plane of existence. On that higher plane of existence, no evil can hold sway.
Death Offers No Guarantee of Purity
This speaker likely assumes that simply dying will deliver him from his current predicament and into the loving arms of the Heavenly Father. Yet, his soul-force seems to be aware that its karmic past may still require that he again face life on an earth-like planet.
Such a return to earth would allow him to continue on his path God-union. He would be allowed to work to perfect his imperfections. As John Donne was a born Catholic and later became an Anglican minister, the poet quite possibly believed that the act of dying would relieve him of the consequences of the sins he had committed while residing in a physical body on planet Earth.
Although the law of karma reckons the entry of the soul into heaven, an individual’s strong faith while incarnated also plays an important role in determining the status of the soul’s ability to enter that unity with its Creator. The status of a fellow human being’s soul awareness can never be detected. That fact undergirds the reason for the command, “Judge not, lest ye be judged” (Matthew 7:1 KJV).
John Donne’s speaker in the sonnets possesses a premium level of education, and his faith is strong and abiding. Donne’s speaker continually calls upon his Heavenly Father-Creator in all circumstances of his life.
The Holy Sonnets exude a steadfast, strong faith in God, and therefore they should be experiences as one individual’s attempt to examine his own life and his own mind as he muses speculates about his existence after death.
Holy Sonnet VII “At the round earth’s imagined corners blow”
The speaker in John Donne’s Holy Sonnet VII is commanding his beloved Creator to instruct him in true repentance, in order to receive the grace that he so strongly desires and needs.
Introduction with Text of Holy Sonnet VII “At the round earth’s imagined corners blow”
John Donne was a brilliant thinker, as well as a strong devout religious devotee. This poem reveals his knowledge of geography, as well as the concepts of karma and reincarnation. Donne’s speaker is continuing to explore all aspects of the status of the soul as it journeys on the earth plane to after-death and back again. The speaker hopes to eventually find himself so blessed that his suffering will have led him to the exalted state of God-union.
Holy Sonnet VII: “At the round earth’s imagined corners blow”
At the round earth’s imagined corners blow Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise From death, you numberless infinities Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go; All whom the flood did, and fire shall o’erthrow, All whom war, dea[r]th, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance hath slain, and you, whose eyes Shall behold God, and never taste death’s woe. But let them sleep, Lord, and me mourn a space; For, if above all these my sins abound, ‘Tis late to ask abundance of Thy grace, When we are there. Here on this lowly ground, Teach me how to repent, for that’s as good As if Thou hadst seal’d my pardon with Thy blood.
Reading by Richard Burton
Commentary on Holy Sonnet VII “At the round earth’s imagined corners blow”
John Donne’s speaker again is lamenting his current physical and mental corruption as he continues to pursue a path that will lead him from darkness to light, and from his current restlessness to eternal peace.
First Quatrain: Addressing Unincarnated Souls
At the round earth’s imagined corners blow Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise From death, you numberless infinities Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go;
The speaker is addressing all souls that are currently not incarnated. He calls them “angels” and gives them the command to sound their “trumpets” on all “corners” of the earth. He calls those corners “imagined” for that is exactly the case when referring to a sphere as having corners as in the old expression “the four corners of the globe.”
The speaker is also commanding those souls to continue on with their spiritual journey and go ahead and reincarnate, an act that would essentially bring them from “death” back to life. Their bodies are metaphorically “scattered” as they await union of egg and sperm for introduction of each new soul.
Second Quatrain: Death’s Variety
All whom the flood did, and fire shall o’erthrow, All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance hath slain, and you, whose eyes Shall behold God, and never taste death’s woe.
The speaker now lists some of the ways that those unincarnated souls may have been removed from their bodies. Some have died through flood, other fire, while still others have succumbed through “war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies / Despair, law, chance.”
The speaker then shockingly refers to those who no longer have need of reincarnating: those “whose eyes” are already “behold[ing] God,” those who no longer have the need to “taste death,” nor reincarnate on the death again. He makes it clear that his intention is to mention, however briefly, all souls into which God has ever breathed existence.
Third Quatrain: A Change of Heart
But let them sleep, Lord, and me mourn a space; For, if above all these my sins abound, ‘Tis late to ask abundance of Thy grace, When we are there. Here on this lowly ground,
The speaker then shifts his command to the “Lord”; having experienced a change of heart, he asks the Lord to let those souls sleep, while the speaker continues to “mourn.”
Thus, the speaker reasons that if his sins are mightier than all those sins that have brought on the many deaths he has listed, then it is likely too late for him to ask for grace from the Divine Creator. He is referring to those souls who are now out of their incarnation. The speaker finally begins his conclusion that he will hold for the couplet to complete.
The Couplet: The Strength of Repentance
Teach me how to repent, for that’s as good As if Thou hadst seal’d my pardon with Thy blood.
While still remaining upon the earth, which he calls “this lowly ground,” the speaker commands his Divine Beloved to instruct him in repentance. He asserts that the act of repentance is equal to having been pardoned. And he knows that, at least, part of his karma has been wiped away by Christ’s sacrifice on the cross.
The speaker is continuing to lament his condition, but he also continues to explore the relationship between God and the souls which God has created. The speaker demonstrates awareness of the concepts of karma and reincarnation, which in the Judeo-Christian religion are explained as sowing and reaping (karma) and resurrection (reincarnation).
Holy Sonnet VIII “If faithful souls be alike glorified”
The speaker in John Donne’s Holy Sonnet VIII is directly addressing his own soul, demanding that it through reason rely solely on his Divine Creator, Heavenly Father-God, Who has fashioned him into the very soul he must be.
Introduction with Text of Holy Sonnet VIII “If faithful souls be alike glorified”
In John Donne’s Holy Sonnet VIII, his speaker is employing the theory of logical consequences along with their circumstances to motivate himself to rely on God alone. He relies on inner urgings that reflect his true soul qualities, and he believes that only truth has the ability to lead his soul back to its Divine Origin.
Holy Sonnet VIII “If faithful souls be alike glorified”
If faithful souls be alike glorified As angels, then my father’s soul doth see, And adds this even to full felicity, That valiantly I hell’s wide mouth o’erstride. But if our minds to these souls be descried By circumstances, and by signs that be Apparent in us not immediately, How shall my mind’s white truth by them be tried? They see idolatrous lovers weep and mourn, And vile blasphemous conjurers to call On Jesus’ name, and pharisaical Dissemblers feign devotion. Then turn, O pensive soul, to God, for He knows best Thy grief, for He put it into my breast.
Commentary on Holy Sonnet VIII“If faithful souls be alike glorified”
Speaking directly to his soul, the speaker determines that dependence only on his Heaven Father can guide him in the precise direction in which he understands that he needs to journey.
First Quatrain: Reliance on Faith
If faithful souls be alike glorified As angels, then my father’s soul doth see, And adds this even to full felicity, That valiantly I hell’s wide mouth o’erstride.
The speaker is examining the feature of authentic faith as opposed to deceptive reasoning. He understands that if genuine faith possess the power to uplift each individual soul to the level of the angels, then his Divine Creator knows and further will bestow on his soul the power to rise above Hell on his journey back to union with the Divine Father-Creator.
His position will be uplifted to “full felicity,” even as he “valiantly” conquers “hell’s wide mouth.” The fact that Hell possesses a “wide mouth” renders it easier for souls to become enmeshed in its magnetism. The old idea that it is easier to engage in bad behavior than to remain ensconced in good behavior may apply to this logic. Also, choosing and following the right path remains more difficult than simply ambling down he wrong path.
Hell’s wide mouth could easily swallow all of us if we allow ourselves to dally near its wide gate. The speaker then continues to reason, to pray, and worship all good and holy things in order to rise above the need to spend any time in Hell. He finds that although the soul’s faith in its Creator is the only act necessary, the path leading to that ultimate awareness can be long and winding.
Second Quatrain: Mental Delusion
But if our minds to these souls be descried By circumstances, and by signs that be Apparent in us not immediately, How shall my mind’s white truth by them be tried?
On the other hand, the speaker knows that the mind can lend itself easily to delusion, causing the soul to be hemmed round by “circumstances.” There also may be indications of things that humankind cannot quickly perceive. The speaker then muses on how to discover the ultimate reality of truth with a mind that permits such folly, illusion, and sin to besmirch it.
He, therefore, seeks answers to how his mind can approach nearby to “white truth” if that mind flying of in all directions continues to keep his pathway obstructed by the dreck of unpolished thoughts, invasive obstruction, and multiple dissatisfactions.
Third Quatrain: Horrifying Hypocrisy
They see idolatrous lovers weep and mourn, And vile blasphemous conjurers to call On Jesus’ name, and pharisaical Dissemblers feign devotion. Then turn,
The speaker continues to elucidate acts that “our minds” are susceptible to performing: the mind receives all sorts of evil events that continue to march through the lives of humanity. Those minds perceive “Idolatrous lovers” and then become melancholy at such sights. Those who call in vain on the name of the Lord scorch hideous images into their minds as “pharisaical / Dissemblers feign devotion.”
The speaker remains disgusted by such depravity; thus, he warns himself strongly against such useless behavior. His hatred of evil action, however, demands that he not circumvent them but instead he must examine their force in order to comprehend why he wants to avoid and disdain.
The speaker commences to command his soul, a command whose conclusion he features in the couplet. For additional emphasis to his final thought, the speaker of these sonnets often uses the strategy of staring a line in the third quatrain and then concluding the idea in the couplet.
The Couplet: Dependence on the Creator-God
O pensive soul, to God, for He knows best Thy grief, for He put it into my breast.
Ultimately, the speaker is demanding that his soul turn to the Divine Reality or God. He says his soul is “pensive,” which literally, however, refers to the mind. His address to the soul then actually remains metaphorical.
But he still is able to speaker to all three bodily encasements and include them in his command: the physical body, in whose “breast” he is aware that God has instilled his sorrow; the mental body, which is responsible for the soul remaining “pensive”; and the soul, which operates both figuratively and literally. The speaker understands that his Heavenly Father (God) includes the entirety of all creation.
The speaker’s final musing and thought process thus points to a pantheistic point of view, else the idea that a compassionate God-Creator would assign grief to the breast of any of his children would remain flagrantly non-compassionate and even grossly unfair.
Holy Sonnet IX “If poisonous minerals, and if that tree”
John Donne’s speaker in Holy Sonnet IX employs his reasoning to compare and contrast the behavior and consequences experienced by God’s creatures of His creation as he fashions another installment of musings on the nature of sin and punishment into finely crafted pieces of art.
Introduction with Text of Holy Sonnet IX “If poisonous minerals, and if that tree”
The speaker of John Donne’s Holy Sonnet IX: “If poisonous minerals, and if that tree” again finds himself “disputing” with his Blessed Creator. He explores creation to understand the reason that his earlier sins are now threatening to cast him into total destruction and suffering.
In this poem, the speaker compares his own status as a child of the Creator to other created beings that while lower on the evolutionary scale seem to be given a pass receiving less punishment than himself as the highest evolved being of the progressing scale of beings. His suffering continues as he searches for answers to his spiritual questions, which he then turns into ever increasingly intense dramas.
Holy Sonnet IX “If poisonous minerals, and if that tree”
If poisonous minerals, and if that tree, Whose fruit threw death on (else immortal) us, If lecherous goats, if serpents envious Cannot be damn’d, alas! why should I be? Why should intent or reason, born in me, Make sins, else equal, in me more heinous? And, mercy being easy, and glorious To God, in His stern wrath why threatens He? But who am I, that dare dispute with Thee? O God, O! of Thine only worthy blood, And my tears, make a heavenly Lethean flood, And drown in it my sin’s black memory. That Thou remember them, some claim as debt; I think it mercy if Thou wilt forget.
Commentary on Holy Sonnet IX “If poisonous minerals, and if that tree”
The speaker expresses his desire that his past sins might be erased and he be forgiven as easily as the Blessed Heavenly Father forgives the unpleasantries of his lesser evolved creatures.
First Quatrain: If This Is, Why Is This Not
If poisonous minerals, and if that tree, Whose fruit threw death on (else immortal) us, If lecherous goats, if serpents envious Cannot be damn’d, alas! why should I be?
In three “if” clauses, the speaker begins his query regarding the ultimate punishment of various entities created by the same Creator-God. Under the notion that God’s lesser beings escape accountability for their behavior, the speaker wonders why that is. How can it be that he, a highly evolved, self-aware child of the Creator, must be “damn’d” for his sins, while the lower creatures get a pass.
The speaker first cites “poisonous minerals” as, in his opinion, a candidate for punishment. He then moves quickly to “that tree” in the Garden of Eden, from which the guilty Adam and Eve ate, thereby casting themselves and their descendants into the realm of mayic delusion where they must experience rounds of life and death.
Interestingly, the speaker includes the fact that if the glutinous pair had not partaken of the fruit from that tree, they would have remained “immortal.” The speaker moves on to call out “lecherous goats” and “serpents envious”—as he then exclaims “alas!” querying why he should be dammed if those unpleasant blemishes on the environment are not.
The speaker’s relationship with his Divine Father is so close that he feels comfortable “disputing” with Him, that is, questioning the Creator-Lord’s motives and reasons for creating His Creation as He has. The speaker finds himself troubled by certain issues and his knowledge that he belongs eternally to the Blessed Creator allows him the audacity to question and even rebuke certain features of Creation.
Second Quatrain: Nothing too Difficult for the Infinite Creator
Why should intent or reason, born in me, Make sins, else equal, in me more heinous? And, mercy being easy, and glorious To God, in His stern wrath why threatens He?
Moving from the structure of the “if” clause plus question, the speaker now directly fashions his questioning of his Father Divine. He wants to understand “why” should his sins be judged “more heinous” simply because he has the ability to form “intent” and to reason. He assumes that his sins are otherwise “equal” to any of the sins committed by those lesser beings that he has called out in the first quatrain.
The speaker then essentially suggests that because nothing is too difficult for God to accomplish, why is the speaker continually blamed while he could be on the receiving end of God’s glory and mercy. He suggests that it is not difficult for God to grant mercy to his children, and he asserts that mercy is a marvelous thing in the eyes of both God and his children.
That God possesses “stern wrath” and inflicts it against the sinner causes the speaker such consternation that he must continue to explore, reason, and pray for answers to his many questions. He cannot merely accept everything that he does not understand without at least some attempt to acquire answers from his Heavenly Father.
Third Quatrain: A Humble Inquiry
But who am I, that dare dispute with Thee? O God, O! of Thine only worthy blood, And my tears, make a heavenly Lethean flood, And drown in it my sin’s black memory.
The speaker has waxed particularly bold in his inquiries. Now he makes a turn on himself and puts forth the rhetorical question, “who am I” to “dispute with Thee?” This statement—as a rhetorical question, the question becomes a statement, as it contains its own answer—seems especially proper at this point.
He has blatantly questioned the motives of God, implying that they are unjust and perhaps overstrict, and even one who feels himself intimate with the Divine Creator must back away with some humility as he faces his own station.
The speaker then offers his most poignant and humble prayer to his Heavenly Father, asking Him to remove from him his “sin’s black memory.” He asks the Father to send the Christian blood that washes clean to combine with his own “tears” and allow him cross the Greek mythological River of Lethe, after which all earthly memory is erased.
The Couplet: The Mercy of Forgetfulness
That Thou remember them, some claim as debt; I think it mercy if Thou wilt forget.
The speaker then offers his last preference that even God forget the speaker’s past sins, but he frames that preference not as a request but as simply what he would consider that forgetting to be. He calls it “mercy” that the Lord would simply treat his sins as they had not existed and that the Lord should forget about them.
The speaker’s exploration has again resulted in a classic drama that has fashioned his lamentation and sorrow over his past sins into an artistic prayer with his plea to this Creator. His desire for deliverance from his past evil will continue to grow as he sculpts his musings and study for discovery into memorable little dramatic verse pieces. The poet’s craftsmanship reveals that his only desire is truth that informs beauty and love.
10 Holy Sonnet X “Death, be not proud, though some have called thee”
John Donne’s Holy Sonnet X: “Death, be not proud, though some have called thee” remains one of the most anthologized poems of the Holy Sonnet sequence. The speaker addresses the conceptual force of death in order to rebuke it and relieve it of its power over human thinking.
Introduction with Text of Holy Sonnet X “Death, be not proud, though some have called thee”
In John Donne’s Holy Sonnet X: “Death, be not proud, though some have called thee”, the speaker rebukes the concept of death, taking away from it all its power to terrify and confuse the heart and mind of humankind.
At first glance, it may seem the speaker is personifying “Death,” as human beings are the creatures capable of pride and retaining “mighty and dreadful” characteristics. However, in this sonnet, death simply remains a force or a concept, not a person, because in the final analysis this speaker assigns death to oblivion.
After the initial stage of life after death, the eternal soul realizes itself as immortal, at which time death itself dies and exists no more. That important detail cannot be said of the human being—either before or after death has intervened.
Instead of being “personified,” the concept of death is merely assigned the anthropomorphic characteristic of possessing pride, as in the first line, “Death, be not proud” and in the concluding line of the third quatrain, “why swell’st thou then?,” which refers to swelling with pride. Thus the only true human characteristic death possesses in this drama is that of pride; Pride is the first and most deadly of the Seven Deadly (Cardinal) Sins.
Holy Sonnet X:”Death, be not proud, though some have called thee”
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those, whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow, Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee do go, Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery. Thou art slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well, And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
Commentary on Holy Sonnet X “Death, be not proud, though some have called thee”
The speaker essentially kills death in this little drama, by robbing it of its dread and placing it among other evil but feckless invaders of the soul.
First Quatrain: A Command to Leave Off Pride
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those, whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow, Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
The speaker begins by commanding death to leave off with its pride because it, in fact, has no reason for being proud. Even though some folks have claimed the powers of might and dread for the force of death, the speaker contradicts that characterization. He informs death that even though it might be persuaded that it can kill, it cannot.
The speaker instructs death that it cannot “overthrow” anyone simply because those that death thinks it kills do not actually “die,” and the speaker adds that death cannot kill him. The speaker is aware of the immortality of the soul that exists eternally, despite its falling under the illusion of the concepts of “life” and “death.”
Second Quatrain: Shadow Images of Death
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee do go, Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
The speaker then explains that even “rest and sleep” represent only shadow images of death, but they convey a pleasing comfort as it is comforting to engage in rest and sleep after much physical exertion.
And for the soul itself, the respite given by leaving the physical encasement, which is what death essentially is, only results in “delivery” from the trials, tribulations, and trammels of life on earth.
Even the “best men” are subject to death, and from that fact the speaker is able to conclude that the death force cannot be the dreadful, tragic source that is so widely attributed to it.
Third Quatrain: A Mere Slave with Low Companions
Thou art slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well, And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?
The speaker then offers a convincing evidentiary assertion that cuts death down to the level of a “slave.” Death has been used by “kings” and by “desperate men” against their enemies. Thus death is simply a servant of “Fate” and of “chance.”
Additionally, the company death keeps includes despicable, degenerates as well; with companions such as “poison, war, and sickness,” with whom death makes his residence, one can only conclude again that death has no reason to be proud.
The speaker then claims that sleeping potions can make people sleep as well as death can do. And the results of such, “poppy” or “charms” are always superior to that of death; thus again death has no reason to possess pride in its abilities.
The Couplet: The Death of Death
One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
The speaker finally punctures the puffed-up pride of death by asserting that the soul after it awakes in its Divine Beloved Creator, will know itself to be eternally immortal. Where is death then? Death itself has to “die” and “shall be no more.”
Speculation by as yet soul-unrealized beings remains just that, speculation. But in order to describe the ineffable, the speaker always must resort to metaphor; thus “one short sleep,” in fact, may actually include many such “short sleep[s],” depending on the level of achievement of the individual soul.
The meaning remains the same: the soul is immortal and exists eternally; thus, the episodes of life and death remain a mayic delusion. “[W]e wake eternally” is the fact that remains despite the necessity of metaphorically likening any temporal durations in the after-death time frame to earth experienced ones.
Each soul is on one long journey, and the number of times that it requires for reincarnating in the physical encasement is ultimately irrelevant to the spiritual fact of the soul’s eternal immorality.
Holy Sonnet XI “Spit in my face, you Jews, and pierce my side”
The speaker in John Donne’s Holy Sonnet XI: “Spit in my face, you Jews, and pierce my side” continues to examine his lot vis-a-vis pain and suffering. He muses on the factors of his faith that strengthen his ability to face his own destiny.
Introduction with Text of Holy Sonnet XI “Spit in my face, you Jews, and pierce my side”
The speaker in Holy Sonnet XI finds himself facing his own lot in life by examining the tenets of his faith. He is facing a destiny that he knows he cannot circumvent in any other way but by wading through the whole pools of pain.
He compares and contrasts the suffering of humanity with that of the Blessed Lord Jesus Christ. Knowing that the Ultimate Reality, the Heavenly Father Himself, clothed Himself in the same flesh of humankind to prove his love offers considerable comfort to the speaker’s suffering mind and heart.
Holy Sonnet XI “Spit in my face, you Jews, and pierce my side”
Spit in my face, you Jews, and pierce my side, Buffet, and scoff, scourge, and crucify me, For I have sinn’d, and sinne’, and only He, Who could do no iniquity, hath died. But by my death can not be satisfied My sins, which pass the Jews’ impiety. They kill’d once an inglorious man, but I Crucify him daily, being now glorified. O let me then His strange love still admire; Kings pardon, but He bore our punishment; And Jacob came clothed in vile harsh attire, But to supplant, and with gainful intent ; God clothed Himself in vile man’s flesh, that so He might be weak enough to suffer woe.
Commentary on Holy Sonnet XI “Spit in my face, you Jews, and pierce my side”
The speaker continues to consider his own pain and suffering, as he muses on the tenets of his faith that strengthen his ability to face his own destiny.
First Quatrain: Comparative Suffering
Spit in my face, you Jews, and pierce my side, Buffet, and scoff, scourge, and crucify me, For I have sinn’d, and sinne’, and only He, Who could do no iniquity, hath died.
By today’s dictates of political correctness, the speaker would likely be castigated for “racism.” However, this speaker is not leveling malice toward a religious group, he is metaphorically comparing his sinfulness to the sinlessness of Lord Jesus Christ.
At the time of that crucifixion of Jesus, Rome was occupying and desecrating the Land of Israel, and the Jewish Diaspora was continuing, driven by the Roman conquerors. Actually, it was the invading, occupying Romans who were responsible for the crucifixion of Jesus the Christ, even though the political leaders of the Jewish people of the Land of Israel would have been forced to cooperate in that atrocity.
Thus, his speaker’s reference to “Jews” is not to recall Roman/Jewish history; his purpose is to contrast his own sins and his suffering to that of the Jesus the Christ. He therefore refers to those who scourged the Blessed Lord Jesus to do the same to him.
The speaker is suggesting that he merits punishment while his Lord and Savior never did. The speaker avers that he has, in fact, sinned and continues to sin, while the Blessed Lord Christ Jesus remained always sinless. Yet, the irony is that Jesus seemed to succumb to his punishment, while the sinner/speaker continues to remain among the living.
Second Quatrain: Liberation from Sin and Suffering
But by my death can not be satisfied My sins, which pass the Jews’ impiety. They kill’d once an inglorious man, but I Crucify him daily, being now glorified.
The speaker then elaborates the even though he may die his sins will not be assuaged until he can unite his soul with the Ultimate Reality. He even claims that his sins are greater than those who crucified Jesus because they crucified Him only once, while the speaker now continues to “[c]rucify him daily.”
Those who beat and crucified Jesus only punished the physical body, or “an inglorious man,” while the speaker/sinner now continues to “crucify” Him after He has become “glorified.” Again, the speaker suggests that his current iniquity is worse than those who crucified the body of Jesus Christ.
Third Quatrain: Admiration for Glory
O let me then His strange love still admire; Kings pardon, but He bore our punishment; And Jacob came clothed in vile harsh attire, But to supplant, and with gainful intent;
The speaker then demands that he be allowed to hold a measure of admiration for the love, given so unquestionably puzzling for the non-liberated mind. While leaders of nations may offer pardon to those accused, the Blessed Lord Jesus Christ suffered the punishment Himself to alleviate the karma of his followers.
The speaker alludes to Jacob, father of Joseph of the Coat of Many Colors, whose life reflected only the ways of man. The speaker employs this allusion to set up his contrast between the ways of man and the ways of the Divine Reality, which he concludes in the couplet.
The Couplet: Proof of Divine Love
God clothed Himself in vile man’s flesh, that so He might be weak enough to suffer woe.
The Divine Beloved took the form of a human being, clothing himself in “vile man’s flesh,” and He did this in order to show humankind the suffering that he was willing to undergo for the sake of each human soul, who is each a child of that Blessed Reality.
The speaker continues to muse on his situation and his faith, on which he relies to alleviate the burden of his pain. By contrasting his own paltry pain to that of the suffering Jesus at crucifixion, he hopes to come to accept his lot with greater equanimity.
Holy Sonnet XII Holy Sonnet XII “Why are we by all creatures waited on?”
In John Donne’s Holy Sonnet XII, the speaker explores his chagrin that humankind has privilege over the lower creatures on the evolutionary scale. The physical stamina of the lower creatures is outweighed by humankind’s mental prowess. But the speaker is tormented by humankind’s penchant for sin.
Introduction and Text of Holy Sonnet XII “Why are we by all creatures waited on?”
The speaker in John Donne’s Holy Sonnet XII: “Why are we by all creatures waited on?” again is focusing on his displeasure with physical phenomena, particularly what seems to constitute an out-of-whack harmony in the natural order.
He finds humankind’s privilege over the lower creatures on the evolutionary scale to be an unhealthy and destructive force; he chafes at the injustice of it all. Although the physical strength of those lower evolved creatures often far surpasses that of any man or woman, it is humankind that has the ability to thrive in ways those poor lesser creatures do not.
The speaker is furthermore tormented that humankind is so prone to sin, while the lower creatures are not. He finds such an imbalance of justice an issue to take to his Creator for an answer.
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Holy Sonnet XII “Why are we by all creatures waited on?”
Why are we by all creatures waited on? Why do the prodigal elements supply Life and food to me, being more pure than I, Simpler and further from corruption? Why brook’st thou, ignorant horse, subjection? Why dost thou, bull and boar, so sillily Dissemble weakness, and by one man’s stroke die, Whose whole kind you might swallow and feed upon? Weaker I am, woe’s me, and worse than you; You have not sinn’d, nor need be timorous. But wonder at a greater, for to us Created nature doth these things subdue; But their Creator, whom sin, nor nature tied, For us, His creatures, and His foes, hath died.
Commentary on Holy Sonnet XII: “Why are we by all creatures waited on?”
In Holy Sonnet XII, the speaker is exploring his discontent with what appears to constitute an imbalance of justice in nature.
First Quatrain: Humankind’s Position in the World
Why are we by all creatures waited on? Why do the prodigal elements supply Life and food to me, being more pure than I, Simpler and further from corruption?
The speaker is speculating about humankind’s position in the world as it appears to exist at the top of the evolutionary scale, thus possessing certain privileges that are not afforded the lower creatures. He is at the same time bemoaning the fact that he belongs to that privileged class for the simple reason that he is capable of sin, while those lower creature are not.
The speaker asserts his opinion that because those lower creature are “simpler” as well as “further from corruption,” they should deserve more than he to be “waited on” and afforded “life and food.”
He seems to suggest that he deserves to suffer more and strive harder for his own nourishment than he has had to do. This speaker is continuing his lament for his earlier life that he feels he wasted in idle sensuality.
Second Quatrain: What of the Horses, Bulls, and Boars?
Why brook’st thou, ignorant horse, subjection? Why dost thou, bull and boar, so sillily Dissemble weakness, and by one man’s stroke die, Whose whole kind you might swallow and feed upon?
The speaker then becomes quite specific in addressing those lower creature. He engages the “ignorant horse,” whom is not castigating but merely offering his query, wanting to ascertain why the horse allows itself to be subjugated by humankind.
He then addresses the “bull and bear,” inquiring of them why they remain so silly as to profess weakness as they allow themselves to be killed by a man, sometimes with only “one man’s stroke,”when by physical strength they could turn on humankind and devour it.
The speaker’s observation of the interaction between humankind, his own species, and the lower creatures informs his criticism, and his own hatred of his past sexual depravity motivates him to make the comparisons and contrasts he engages to once again flog himself in punishment over his earlier transgressions against his soul.
Third Quatrain: Sinners vs the Sinless
Weaker I am, woe’s me, and worse than you; You have not sinn’d, nor need be timorous. But wonder at a greater, for to us Created nature doth these things subdue;
The speaker then blatantly offers his notion that at least he of the species known as humankind is “weaker” and even “worse then” the horse, the bull, and the boar. And of course, he offers the reason, which is, that the horse, bull, and boar have not “sinn’d”; thus they need not be of lesser courage than a man.
However, the speaker then admits that nature being what it is causes the thinking man to wonder about why it allows what seem to his human mind atrocities. Creation does not seem to reflect the mercy of the Creator, at least this speaker seems to search for that mercy.
The Couplet: Equality in the Creator’s Eyes
But their Creator, whom sin, nor nature tied, For us, His creatures, and His foes, hath died.
Still the speaker must admit that the Creator, for Whom sin as well as nature remain equal, sent His representative “Son” to reclaim the karma from all of creation alike. The speaker can thus take some comfort from that special level of equality that evens out through eternity.
The speaker remains on his journey to self-realization. He focuses on various phenomena of creation to provide topics for his speculation and also to allow him room to philosophize about the nature of God and humankind, the Creator’s greatest creation.
Holy Sonnet XIII “What if this present were the world’s last night?”
The speaker in John Donne’s Holy Sonnet XIII: “What if this present were the world’s last night?” continues his search for consolation that he will be forgiven his earlier sins of the flesh.
Introduction with Text of Holy Sonnet XIII: “What if this present were the world’s last night?”
The speaker in this holy sonnet begins with a profound speculation regarding the end of the world, an exaggeration representing his own demise. He then begins his musing regarding the nature of forgiveness, particularly that nature of the Christian forgiveness originating from Jesus the Christ’s effusion on the cross: “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34 KJV).
Holy Sonnet XIII “What if this present were the world’s last night?”
What if this present were the world’s last night? Mark in my heart, O soul, where thou dost dwell, The picture of Christ crucified, and tell Whether His countenance can thee affright. Tears in His eyes quench the amazing light; Blood fills his frowns, which from His pierced head fell; And can that tongue adjudge thee unto hell, Which pray’d forgiveness for His foes’ fierce spite? No, no; but as in my idolatry I said to all my profane mistresses, Beauty of pity, foulness only is A sign of rigour; so I say to thee, To wicked spirits are horrid shapes assign’d; This beauteous form assures a piteous mind.
Commentary on Holy Sonnet XIII “What if this present were the world’s last night?”
The speaker again is musing deeply on his own soul status after it leaves its physical encasement.
First Quatrain: What if the World Ends Now?
What if this present were the world’s last night? Mark in my heart, O soul, where thou dost dwell, The picture of Christ crucified, and tell Whether His countenance can thee affright.
The speaker begins by speculating about the termination of the world. He is addressing his own soul, first with a question and then a command. He instructs his soul to observe the image it holds of the Blessed Lord Christ upon the cross to determine if the face of that crucified holy savior can cause fear in him.
The speaker is attempting to ascertain his own feelings and thoughts at time of his own death. By exaggerating his own demise with that of the world, he engages the profundity involved in the holy act of the soul leaving its physical encasement.
Second Quatrain: The Visage of Christ
Tears in His eyes quench the amazing light; Blood fills his frowns, which from His pierced head fell; And can that tongue adjudge thee unto hell, Which pray’d forgiveness for His foes’ fierce spite?
The speaking then appears to be taking his imagery from a painting of the crucified Jesus, or more likely he has internalized that image that many paintings have been known to capture.
Thus, the speaker remarks that Jesus’ eyes, filled with tears from his physical agony and his pity for the world are so strong as to put out the “amazing light” that blazes across the scene.
The speaker then returns to the common thread of his own judgment by the Blessed Lord, as the former wonders if the Holy One, Who has forgiven even those who are guilty of crucifying Him, could possibly send this lowly speaker of much lesser sins “unto hell.” This speaker remains ever concerned for his soul, fearing his earlier misdeeds might have already sealed his postmortem fate.
Third Quatrain: A Comparison
No, no; but as in my idolatry I said to all my profane mistresses, Beauty of pity, foulness only is A sign of rigour; so I say to thee,
The speaker decides doubly in the negative; then he adds a proviso. He flashes back to his days “in [his] idolatry,” at a time when he would tell his “profane mistresses” about how he reckoned it to be a sign of energy and strength to see the “beauty” in “pity” and “foulness.” The speaker then continues with the comparison as he had said to those mistresses he is now averring to “wicked spirits,” and he concludes his thought in the couplet.
The Couplet: The Face of Forgiveness
To wicked spirits are horrid shapes assign’d; This beauteous form assures a piteous mind.
To those “wicked spirits” the speaker now declaims that only ugliness adorns the wicked. Because Christ remains ever in a “beauteous form,” the Blessed One will always take pity on His Father’s children.
Thus, the speaker has again found consolation in his analysis of the relationship between Christ and himself. The speaker would also aver that his own physical encasement retains the beauty of the Father, after Whose image he is gloriously created.
Holy Sonnet XIV “Batter my heart, three-person’d God; for you”
The speaker is becoming increasingly more intense as he continues to explore the plight which has sent him on his journey from sensuality to spirituality. He implores his Heavenly Father to remake him and thus utterly destroy his old attitude that led him astray.
Introduction and Text of Holy Sonnet XIV “Batter my heart, three-person’d God; for you”
“Three-person’d God” refers to the Holy Trinity. The reality of God can be understood as a unified trinity: 1. There is God outside of Creation, residing in the vibrationless realm; 2. There is God within Creation, Whose only reflection exists as the Christ-Consciousness; 3. There is God as the vibratory force itself. These three qualities are expressed in Christianity as “Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,” and in Hinduism as “Sat-Tat-Aum.”
The speaker in this widely anthologized sonnet continues to muse about the status of his soul. He knows that he is near death, and he desires to mitigate as many of his former sins as possible in order for his post-death situation to herald a pleasant reality.
Holy Sonnet XIV “Batter my heart, three-person’d God; for you”
Batter my heart, three-person’d God; for you As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new. I, like an usurp’d town, to another due, Labour to admit you, but O, to no end. Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend, But is captived, and proves weak or untrue. Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain, But am betroth’d unto your enemy; Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again, Take me to you, imprison me, for I, Except you enthrall me, never shall be free, Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
Commentary “Batter my heart, three-person’d God; for you”
The speaker is continuing his struggle for eternal peace and tranquility after passing a rather chaotic existence in his younger days. He regrets his many transgression and seeks lasting forgiveness from his Creator.
First Quatrain: Knocking at the Heart’s Door
Batter my heart, three-person’d God; for you As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
The speaker addresses his Creator-Father as the Holy Trinity; he makes this all-inclusive address, in order to intensify his request. Thus he is appealing to each quality (or “person”) of the Trinity or “three-person’d God.”
The speaker then proclaims that thus far his beloved Father has been attempting to gain his child’s attention by knocking at the door of his heart. But the speaker now begs for the Blessed Lord to knock harder, even “batter” down that door, if necessary.
The speaker wishes to become new, and he believes his current situation must be utterly destroyed in order for that newness to take hold. He colorfully implores his Creator-God to shatter his being—”break, blow, burn”—so that this poor child may become “new.”
Second Quatrain: A Devastated, Conquered Town
I, like an usurp’d town, to another due, Labour to admit you, but O, to no end. Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend, But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
The speaker then colorfully likens himself to a town that has “usurp’d.” That conquerered town thus owes allegiance to its captors. He works hard at allowing the Lord to usurp him but still he does not find that he is successful.
The speaker takes all the blame on himself that he has not been completely dominated by God, Whom he adores but still remains too “weak or untrue” to be able to prove that deep love and affection.
Third Quatrain: Confession of Divine Love
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain, But am betroth’d unto your enemy; Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again, Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Then the speaker openly confesses his love—”dearly I love you”—and would gladly be loved. But the speaker then shockingly admits that he is still too closely allied with “your enemy.” Of course, the speaker fights this enemy non-stop. This satanic force has driven the speaker to commit his unspeakable, adulterous acts that now stifle his spiritual progress.
The speaker pleads again for his Lord to separate Himself from the speaker but then “take me to you.” He begs to be imprisoned by the Lord. His exaggerated effusions continue to reveal the excited state from which the speaker reports. He feels that his desire to taken into the Lord’s possession must first be preceded by utter departure from the Presence.
The Couplet: To Become New
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free, Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
The speaker then utters the truth that he shall never “be free” or ever find purity without the intersession of his Creator. He begs to be changed in heart and mind, so that his perfect soul qualities may blossom forth.
The speaker, therefore, continues to entreat his Divine Beloved to make him new. Because he believes that such an act requires a catastrophic act to accomplish, he is begging that he be utterly destroyed and then recreated by his Divine Beloved Creator, Who fathers all His children in His own image.
Holy Sonnet XV “Wilt thou love God as he thee? then digest”
The speaker seeks assurance that he understands his own faith. This blessed understanding strengthens the speaker’s remembrance of his own creation and helps him to realize that his earlier sins can be forgiven.
Introduction with Text of Holy Sonnet XV: “Wilt thou love God as he thee? then digest”
The speaker in Holy Sonnet XV addresses his soul in mediation, commanding it to completely understand its nature—that it is an image of the Divine. As he always does, this speaker is examining his own understanding of his faith.
The speaker likely has reasoned that if he can put own his mystical awareness in his little dramas, that ability will assure him that he does, in fact, comprehend what he is learning from his studies, his meditations, and his prayers.
Holy Sonnet XV: “Wilt thou love God as he thee? then digest”
Wilt thou love God as he thee? then digest, My soul, this wholesome meditation, How God the Spirit, by angels waited on In heaven, doth make His temple in thy breast. The Father having begot a Son most blest, And still begetting—for he ne’er begun— Hath deign’d to choose thee by adoption, Co-heir to His glory, and Sabbath’s endless rest. And as a robb’d man, which by search doth find His stolen stuff sold, must lose or buy it again, The Son of glory came down, and was slain, Us whom He had made, and Satan stole, to unbind. ‘Twas much, that man was made like God before, But, that God should be made like man, much more.
Commentary on Holy Sonnet XV: “Wilt thou love God as he thee? then digest”
The speaker commands his soul to seek assurance of his faith.
First Quatrain: Commanding the Soul
Wilt thou love God as he thee? then digest, My soul, this wholesome meditation, How God the Spirit, by angels waited on In heaven, doth make His temple in thy breast.
The speaker addresses his soul in meditation, asking it to understand the beautiful idea that the Divine Beloved lives in his own heart. He asks his soul if it is capable of loving God as God loves the human soul.
Assuming that a positive answer is in the offing, he then commands that soul to take into itself and live the faith and efficacy that knowing that the spark of the Divine resides in him can bring. It must be remembered that this speaker is seeking solace in his knowledge that he will be departing this earth soon.
He can intuit that his soul will leave its physical encasement and as he prepares for that eventuality, he continues to examine his faith vis-à-vis biblical lore. All he knows is now being employed to reason and understand his own nature and that of his Creator.
Second Quatrain: Complex Relationships
The Father having begot a Son most blest, And still begetting—for he ne’er begun— Hath deign’d to choose thee by adoption, Co-heir to His glory, and Sabbath’s endless rest.
The speaker then reasons that he can compare his own relationship to the Beloved Creator as an adopted son. The Creator fashioned a “most blest” “Son” and continued to create—or in reality nothing begins and nothing ends—but the speaker contends that his own existence cannot compare to that of the Christ’s. Thus his own “sonship” must resemble an adopted son.
Still the speaker is aware that he is “co-heir” to the most blessed one’s “glory.” He deserves to share the glory and the eternal “rest” offered by a day of prayer and meditation. He will not remain shy about demanding what he knows he deserves as a child of God.
Third Quatrain: Divine Awareness
And as a robb’d man, which by search doth find His stolen stuff sold, must lose or buy it again, The Son of glory came down, and was slain, Us whom He had made, and Satan stole, to unbind.
The speaker then compares humankind’s lot to the man who is robbed. When the victim tries to regain his stolen possessions, he has the choice of buying them back or just letting them go. That “Son of glory” who descended to earth and allowed his physical encasement to be shattered did so to “unbind” humankind from that Satan-robbed status.
That Satan would rob humankind of its soul qualities remains part of the science of duality under which each soul must struggle to overcome its karma. The speaker understands the relationships that grow and transform under the laws of karma and reincarnation. That he is meditating on those qualities demonstrates that knows the nature of stillness and its relationship to Divine awareness.
The Couplet: Made in the Image
‘Twas much, that man was made like God before, But, that God should be made like man, much more.
The speaker then alludes to the human being having been made in the “image of God.” He finds that such knowledge is great, yet even greater is the awareness that God is also made in the image of humankind. That co-equality is hardly ever addressed because it makes the human being sound as if he is making a god of himself; the seeming blasphemy is hard for fundamentalists to grasp.
But this speaker, however, sees that if a man is made in the image of God, then that obviously means that God also exists in the image of the man. Of course, he knows that such ancient and sacred knowledge does not belong solely to the physical encasement but does inhere to the soul.
As the reader recalls that the speaker began by addressing his “soul,” it becomes obvious that the speaker is not saying a man in his physical encasement is an exact replica of his Creator, but, instead that the Creator is, however, an exact replica (image) of the soul.
This speaker has learned to live and move by soul power, and as he continues to create his dramas, he become stronger and more determined in his faith and trust in the Divine Reality.
Holy Sonnet XVI “Father, part of His double interest”
The speaker employs a legal metaphor to pray that his legacy will ultimately be sufficient to cleanse his soul to allow it eternal rest in the arms of the Divine.
Introduction with Text of Holy Sonnet XVI “Father, part of His double interest”
The speaker’s little drama in Holy Sonnet XVI: “Father, part of His double interest” features a legal metaphor as he prays that his “legacy” will finally remain strong and thus elevate his soul permitting it to rest eternally in the arms of its Heavenly Creator. The legal metaphor includes the terms “interest,” “jointure,” “wills,” “legacy,” “invest,” “laws,” “statutes,” and “law and letter.”
Donne’s poetic talent ranks his accomplishment in the Holy Sonnets along side that of the Shakespeare sonnets. As the speaker in Donne’s sonnets seeks ultimate absolution for his soul, the Shakespeare speaker sought to create his best expressions of beauty, love, and truth. Both writers understood many aspects of the nature of their relationship to the Divine Reality, and both were aware of their reliance of their poetic gifts for creating fine art.
Holy Sonnet XVI “Father, part of His double interest”
Father, part of His double interest Unto Thy kingdom Thy Son gives to me; His jointure in the knotty Trinity He keeps, and gives to me his death’s conquest. This Lamb, whose death with life the world hath blest, Was from the world’s beginning slain, and He Hath made two wills, which with the legacy Of His and Thy kingdom do Thy sons invest. Yet such are these laws, that men argue yet Whether a man those statutes can fulfil. None doth; but Thy all-healing grace and Spirit Revive again what law and letter kill. Thy law’s abridgement, and Thy last command Is all but love; O let this last Will stand!
Commentary on Holy Sonnet XVI: “Father, part of His double interest”
Employing a legal metaphor, the speaker likens humanity to the beneficiary of all that is given by the Creator, Heavenly Father. The speaker is, thus, demonstrating his strong desire to inherit the legacy that will cleanse his soul.
First Quatrain: Relationship of Inheritor to Bequeather
Father, part of His double interest Unto Thy kingdom Thy Son gives to me; His jointure in the knotty Trinity He keeps, and gives to me his death’s conquest.
Addressing his Heavenly Father, the speaker expresses his intuitive knowledge regarding the scientific and spiritual laws that govern the relationship between fallen souls and their Creator, who has extended the curtesy of blessed assurance of redemption through the intervention of Blessed Lord Jesus Christ.
The speaker is exploring his relationship with the Christ, or the Christ Consciousness, as exemplified in the body and life Lord Jesus Christ. The speaker has intuited that a “double interest” exists with Christ possessing both interests but allowing the speaker a “part.”
While Christ remains steadfastly ensconced in the Holy Trinity, He thus possesses the ability to take up the karma of fallen sons such as the speaker. Christ, therefore, has bequeathed his conquest of death on the speaker and all who fall into that fallen category.
Second Quatrain: The Double Will of the Over-Soul
This Lamb, whose death with life the world hath blest, Was from the world’s beginning slain, and He Hath made two wills, which with the legacy Of His and Thy kingdom do Thy sons invest.
The speaker continues his legal metaphor which he began with the terms “interest” and “jointure.” The latter term expresses the close relationship of the parts of the Holy Trinity by metaphorically comparing that intimate relationship to a wife’s interest in the holdings of her late husband. The speaker now employs the term “wills” likening the created souls’ position to that of one inheriting property from another on the physical, earth plane.
The speaker expresses the main feature of the Christ crucifixion which essentially gave life to all created souls even as the body of Jesus underwent “death.” The speaker contends that although the death of the Christ existed from the beginning, the Blessed one had “made two wills.” And the “legacy” of those wills extends from both the kingdom of God and from the legendary act of taking up the karma of all created souls. whole world.
Third Quatrain: An Ongoing Philosophical Inquiry
Yet such are Thy laws, that men argue yet Whether a man those statutes can fulfil. None doth; but Thy all-healing grace and Spirit Revive again what law and letter kill.
The speaker then refers to the ongoing philosophical discussion regarding the ability of humankind to “fulfil” God’s laws. The speaker has determined quite definitely that humankind has not fulfilled those laws.
However, the speaker has become aware that through the “all-healing grace” of the Divine, the soul of each human being can “revive again,” even after having undergone the metaphoric death foisted onto it by the letter of the law.
The Couplet: Saving Grace
Thy law’s abridgement, and Thy last command Is all but love; O let this last Will stand!
The speaker accepts as the ultimate reality that while God’s laws are immutable, the Divine Creator Himself can abridge them. The speaker then alludes to the final command that Jesus gave before His crucifixion:
A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another (John 13:34–35 KJV).
The speaker, having become sufficiently ensconced in divine love, now prays that the Blessed Creator will find the wherewithal to bestow on him the final legacy that allows his soul to recover its sonship and rest in eternal peace in Divine Grace.
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Holy Sonnet XVII “Since she whom I loved hath paid her last debt”
The speaker in John Donne’s Holy Sonnet XVII: “Since she whom I loved hath paid her last debt” begins by exploring his feelings for his late wife as the motivation for seeking the Heavenly Father’s will.
Introduction with Text of Holy Sonnet XVII: “Since she whom I loved hath paid her last debt”
The speaker in John Donne’s Holy Sonnets continues to make his way toward his goal of unity with his Heavenly Father God, Who is the Divine Reality. As he progresses, he puts forth many questions in order to examine the various solutions to his spiritual bewilderment.
The speaker’s physical body is deteriorating, and he is aware that little time remains for him to explore the issues that appear to be preventing his soul from reaching his desired goal of self-realization, or soul-realization, which is unity with his Creator.
He keeps on creating his poetic dramas to portray his steady exploration of all that he knows and all that he wishes to learn. By reflecting upon his beloved wife’s impact on him, he becomes aware that his Heavenly Father reaches out to His children just as His children reach out through supplication to their Beloved Creator.
Holy Sonnet XVII “Since she whom I loved hath paid her last debt”
Since she whom I loved hath paid her last debt To Nature, and to hers, and my good is dead, And her soul early into heaven ravishèd, Wholly on heavenly things my mind is set. Here the admiring her my mind did whet To seek Thee, God; so streams do show the head; But though I have found Thee, and Thou my thirst hast fed, A holy thirsty dropsy melts me yet. But why should I beg more love, whenas Thou Dost woo my soul, for hers offering all Thine: And dost not only fear lest I allow My love to saints and angels, things divine, But in Thy tender jealousy dost doubt Lest the world, flesh, yea, devil put Thee out.
Commentary on Holy Sonnet XVII “Since she whom I loved hath paid her last debt”
In Holy Sonnet XVII: “Since she whom I loved hath paid her last debt,” the speaker is examining his affection for his beloved late wife which becomes the impetus for searching out the will of his Beloved Creator.
First Quatrain: Remembering His Beloved Wife
Since she whom I loved hath paid her last debt To Nature, and to hers, and my good is dead, And her soul early into heaven ravishèd, Wholly on heavenly things my mind is set.
As the speaker addresses his Heavenly Father, he heralds to memory his late wife. He proclaims that her abandoning her physical body was an act of paying “her last debt.” She had, thus, paid her debt to “Nature” totally and had atoned for her own being.
The speaker finds her leaving has left him at a loss, and he believes that he had lost all goodness. He announces that she escaped from her physical encasement while she was still quite young. HIs great loss has prompted him to seek things of a divine nature; therefore, he asserts that his mind has set itself only on things divine.
The speaker’s audience understand that he is quite squarely focusing on the Creator as the Divine Reality. He is interested only on divine qualities and movement in order to create his poetic dramas which reflect his discoveries. His intensity continues to grow because he remains apprehensive for his soul’s status. He is aware that he will likely be abandoning his physical body in the near future.
Second Quatrain: God Motivation
Here the admiring her my mind did whet To seek Thee, God; so streams do show the head; But though I have found Thee, and Thou my thirst hast fed, A holy thirsty dropsy melts me yet.
The speaker then report that it is his beloved wife, especially his respect and affection for that first focused his intention to seek unity with the Divine Reality. He colorfully likens his flowing into Reality to awareness of “streams” that show their source.
Still, the speaker, despite his continued journey to his goal of divine union, understands that God has always quenched “his thirst.” The speaker, nevertheless, has kept an unhappy consternation about his final goal. Likely, he had once again brought to mind his earlier dangerous descents into sense slavery.
Third Quatrain: Questioning the Divine Beloved
But why should I beg more love, whenas Thou Dost woo my soul, for hers offering all Thine: And dost not only fear lest I allow My love to saints and angels, things divine,
The speaker asks a question to his Heavenly Father, wanting to ascertain why he continues to experience the necessity of seeking “more love.” He intuitively believes that he is being hunted by the Divine Reality, even as he searches for that union with the Creator. He also knows that the misery experienced by his late wife has been expended in the flames of Divine Love.
The speaker has become suspicious that his Heavenly Father may sense in him a waning of his love as he expands that love to “saints and angels” and other “things divine.” By allotting such discrimination to the Divine Reality, the speaker can muse on his own quantity of fear that likely still inhibits his advancement down his spiritual path.
The Couplet: What Worldly Doubt Extinguishes
But in Thy tender jealousy dost doubt Lest the world, flesh, yea, devil put Thee out.
A slight fear of lack of concentration on Divine affection continue to reside in him. Still there seems to remain a certain level of “tender jealousy” along with some “doubt” that will likely prompt the Beloved Lord to refuse to appear before the speaker to fulfill the final union.
The speaker wishes more than anything else to become united with his Heaven Father. He, therefore, scrutinizes every feeling and every thought that emerges in him. He questions his Divine Father just as an earthly son would question an earthly father because he is aware that he still has so much to learn and very little time for learning it.
Holy Sonnet XVIII “Show me, dear Christ, Thy spouse so bright and clear”
The speaker in Holy Sonnet XVIII speculates about the church of Christ: if it will continue with grace, how it may remain comprehensible to Christ’s followers. The teachings of Christ, His church, and body of His followers form a unity represented in this sonnet as the “spouse” of Christ.
Introduction with Text of Holy Sonnet XVIII: “Show me, dear Christ, Thy spouse so bright and clear”
The speaker of John Donne’s Holy Sonnet XVIII: “Show me, dear Christ, Thy spouse so bright and clear” continues to seek out and examine the history of the revelation of Christian theory.
He is employing the metaphor of the bride of Christ (“spouse”), often designated in Christian lore as Christ’s church. After creating the controlling metaphor of husband and wife for Christ and His church, the speaker poses questions and commands to the Divine Reality.
Readers will surely call to mind that this speaker continues to seek out his own salvation while gathering all the necessary information to maintain the idea that he can be forgiven his youthful sins of debauchery prompted by the sex urge.
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Holy Sonnet XVIII “Show me, dear Christ, Thy spouse so bright and clear”
Show me, dear Christ, Thy spouse so bright and clear. What! is it she which on the other shore Goes richly painted? or which, robbed and tore, Laments and mourns in Germany and here? Sleeps she a thousand, then peeps up one year?18 Is she self-truth, and errs? now new, now outwore? Doth she, and did she, and shall she evermore On one, on seven, or on no hill appear? Dwells she with us, or like adventuring knights First travel we to seek, and then make love? Betray, kind husband, thy spouse to our sights, And let mine amorous soul court thy mild dove, Who is most true and pleasing to thee then When she is embraced and open to most men.
Commentary on Holy Sonnet XVIII “Show me, dear Christ, Thy spouse so bright and clear”
The controlling metaphor in Holy Sonnet XVIII: “Show me, dear Christ, Thy spouse so bright and clear” portrays the relationship between a husband (Christ) and a wife (Christ’s church of teachings, also including followers).
First Quatrain: The Nature of Christ’s Teachings and His Church
Show me, dear Christ, Thy spouse so bright and clear. What! is it she which on the other shore Goes richly painted? or which, robbed and tore, Laments and mourns in Germany and here?
In traditional Christian legend and lore, the “bride” of Christ—”spouse” to which John Donne refers—is understood as the church which is the entire following of Jesus Christ. Included in that compilation are the teachings of the Christ.
Thus, the followers of the teachings of Christianity are metaphorically considered to be the “spouse” or “bride” of Christ. The closeness signified by the term “spouse” refers to the closeness of Christ’s teachings and His followers, who then become “Christians.”
In Holy Sonnet XVIII: “Show me, dear Christ, Thy spouse so bright and clear,” the speaker is addressing the Christ, demanding that the Blessèd Savior open to him the exact nature along with the essence of His teachings.
The speaker is seeking the results that come from following those teachings. He is also suggesting that those teachings remain “so bright and clear.” However, the speaker then suggests those teachings have not been so clear to many of the world’s population.
The speaker contemplates the possibility that the teachings of the Christ that seem to have been received with praise and attention have actually been plundered and disfigured; for such, he then laments their status in places such as “Germany” and England.
Second Quatrain: Speculation, Acceptance, and Reliance
Sleeps she a thousand, then peeps up one year? Is she self-truth, and errs? now new, now outwore? Doth she, and did she, and shall she evermore On one, on seven, or on no hill appear?
The speaker continues speculating about the reception of Christ’s teachings, and he inquires whether those teachings have been kept dormant for a millennium or if they seem to suddenly appear out of nowhere. The speaker wonders further if Christ’s principles are self-evident but still contain both truth and along with errors. He also wants to ascertain if they are both fresh and worn-out.
The speaker also searches for information regarding the past, present, future stays of those teachings as well as where they may later become known. He asks if “she” will appear on a single hill, on seven hills, or on no hill at all. The allusion to the seven hills is, without doubt, prompted by the lines in Revelation 17:9:
And here is the mind which hath wisdom. The seven heads are seven mountains, on which the woman sitteth.
But the speaker entertains the likelihood that as Christ’s teachings may emerge again there may be no hill involved.
Third Quatrain: A Clear Understanding of the Church
Dwells she with us, or like adventuring knights First travel we to seek, and then make love? Betray, kind husband, thy spouse to our sights, And let mine amorous soul court thy mild dove,
The speaker then crafts a colorful scenario that the church—Christ’s teachings—may live only in the hearts and minds of humanity. They may also, similar to a traveling “knights,” go off on an journey and then return to “make love.”
It is highly unlikely that the speaker is referring to coitus by the phrase “make love”; he, no doubt, signals heralding an atmosphere in which love, affection, and compassion may abundantly thrive.
The speaker commands from the Christ that He render in perfect clarity the nature and essence of His church and His teachings, so that the speaker will be able to peruse the teachings with determination that leads to perfect comprehension. The speaker is aware that such a scenario would afford his soul the grace to absolve his sins and would also afford him precious rest for his soul.
The Couplet: Understanding, Pleasing to the Lord
Who is most true and pleasing to thee then When she is embraced and open to most men.
The speaker then features the reasoning that has motivated his speculation and ultimate demands. Intuitively, he senses that having the teachings correctly comprehended and then adhered to will please the Heavenly Father.
Having “most men” appropriately follow His guidance will afford not only true leadership on the spiritual path but will also remain a peaceful and pleasurable thought for the Lord Jesus the Christ to retain in His memory.
Holy Sonnet XIX “Oh, to vex me, contraries meet in one”
The speaker in Holy Sonnet XIX makes a most fervent declaration regarding his spiritual striving for deliverance into the arms of the Ultimate Reality. He offers a confession and sincere statement of continued seeking for the mind-set of “fear” or loving respect that his Heavenly Father will accept.
Introduction with Text of Holy Sonnet XIX “Oh, to vex me, contraries meet in one”
In John Donne’s Holy Sonnet XIX, the speaker continues his soul searching journey, stating in fervency his continued desire to be taken into the arms of the Divine Ultimate Reality. He employs a set of seven similes to compare his state of mind to various states of awareness.
The speaker’s only goal remains constant: he has studied, researched, prayed, and meditated in order to acquire the proper direction for his heart and mind. He has remained desirous that his direction remain ever aimed toward soul-awareness, for he knows that his spark of Divinity is the only instrument that can cleanse his physical and mental quirks which in his youth so often led him astray.
Holy Sonnet XIX “Oh, to vex me, contraries meet in one”
Oh, to vex me, contraries meet in one: Inconstancy unnaturally hath begot A constant habit; that when I would not I change in vows, and in devotion. As humorous is my contrition As my profane love, and soon forgot: As riddlingly distempered, cold and hot, As praying, as mute; as infinite, as none. I durst not view heaven yesterday; and today In prayers and flattering speeches I court God: Tomorrow I quake with true fear of his rod. So my devout fits come and go away Like a fantastic ague; save that here Those are my best days, when I shake with feare.
Commentary on Holy Sonnet XIX “Oh, to vex me, contraries meet in one”
Seeking complete union with his Creator, the speaker offers a prayer that serves as both a confession and prediction of soul reality.
First Quatrain: The Karmic Wheel
Oh, to vex me, contraries meet in one: Inconstancy unnaturally hath begot A constant habit; that when I would not I change in vows, and in devotion.
The speaker laments that the pairs of opposites that hold the human mind and heart to the wheel of karma have over his life-time remained fully functioning in him to his utter shame and dismay.
While he would vow to behave only with dignity and grace, the weakness of the flesh has repeatedly motivated him to abandon his good intentions, laying him waste to the debauchery that ensues from following the urges of the sensual body within the physical encasement.
The speaker is clarifying his utmost desire to rid himself of all trammels of physical behaviors that lead to decay and demolition. He deeply craves that his soul become afire with only the desire for the love of his Divine Belovèd.
He has suffered from the continued behavior that prompts mortals caught in the web of delusion to repeat. Without desire to achieve a spiritual cleansing, the human heart and mind remain in a fallen state eschewing vows and lacking devotion. This speaker deeply seeks to remedy that common plight.
Second Quatrain: Seven Similes
As humorous is my contrition As my profane love, and soon forgot: As riddlingly distempered, cold and hot, As praying, as mute; as infinite, as none.
Through seven similes, the speaker then likens his position to the following:
1. to the comedy of “contrition,” which leads to utter nothingness,
2. to “profane love,” which had led him to his current state though after each debauched act was “soon forgot,”
3. to a temperament that caused his remaining puzzled while running “cold and hot,”
4. to his spiritual striving through prayer that seems to remain a constance,
5, to his inability to respond to his situation,
6 to his fluttering mind that seemed to fly off in all directions,
7 to the utter nothingness that remaining on the physical level brings the spiritual aspirant who recognizes that the dust of lust opposes the luster of spiritual love and soul power.
Third Quatrain: Cleansing Mind and Heart
I durst not view heaven yesterday; and today In prayers and flattering speeches I court God: Tomorrow I quake with true fear of his rod. So my devout fits come and go away
The speaker gathers his comparisons into the simple thought that while he has not taken on the ability to cleanse his mind and heart in the past, in the present he finds himself totally in the aspect of one pursuing his Divine Creator, although he seems to do so “in prayers” as well as in “flattering speeches.”
The speaker then predicts that because of yesterday’s audacity and today’s contemplation, tomorrow should find his respecting the Ultimate Reality with a true and sacrosanct “fear,” which does not refer to being afraid but instead means deep and abiding respect and admiration for the Great Spirit.
The speaker remains in hope that his “devout fits,” which “come and go,” will nevertheless elevate his soul to the place where he can experience the rest and clarity he needs to experience his soul’s power and autonomy.
The Couplet: Quaking with Devotion
Like a fantastic ague; save that here Those are my best days, when I shake with feare.
The speaker had begun to describe the position regarding his “devout fits” in the third quatrain and then finishes it in the couple. He declares that those “devout fits” that “come and go” have done so like a fever in the physical encasement would do.
The speaker concludes with a remarkable claim that on his “best days,” he has found himself moved deeply with his love, respect, and affection for the Divine Belovèd. He knows that his deep love of God is the only aspect of his life that can elevate his soul to the status of a true son, a status which he desires above all else. His faith is sealed, and now he can await the call to Heaven.
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 “The Soul selects her own Society”
Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul selects her own Society” portrays the nature of individual self-sufficiency, spiritual power, and the deliberate choice of isolation over social engagement. The result is a positive statement that the strength of the soul remains ascendent, despite a world of chaos.
Introduction and Text of “The Soul selects her own Society”
In only three innovative quatrains, Emily Dickinson’s poem, “The Soul selects her own Society,” reveals the power of the soul’s skill in selecting its companions and rejecting external influences.
This profound theme is one of many that similarly focus on issues of individuality in Dickinson’s 1775 span of poems. The poet grappled with questions of personal autonomy and the inner life by creating speakers who address those inquiries in unique, strong voices.
Emily Dickinson’s themes, poetic techniques, as well as the cultural and philosophical contexts that inform her poems all lend heft to the notion that the poet remained steadfast in her determination to live deliberately and independently.
The claims that Dickinson’s speaker makes about the soul’s choices illuminate this poem’s celebration of individuality, and those claims offer a subtle critique of societal pressures. This important theme can be found in a number of Dickinson’s poems. The poet continued to create speakers who share her love of privacy.
The Soul selects her own Society –
The Soul selects her own Society – Then – shuts the Door – To her divine Majority – Present no more –
Unmoved – she notes the Chariots – pausing – At her low Gate – Unmoved – an Emperor be kneeling Upon her Mat –
I’ve known her – from an ample nation – Choose One – Then – close the Valves of her attention – Like Stone –
Commentary on “The Soul selects her own Society”
Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul selects her own Society” stands as the emblematic poem for not only the poet’s entire oeuvre but also for her life choice of isolation as well. She continued to create speakers, whose voices remain strong and unique. Her elliptical, minimalist expressions demonstrate an economy of language use seldom experienced to such a high degree.
First Stanza: The Soul’s Decision
The Soul selects her own Society – Then – shuts the Door – To her divine Majority – Present no more –
The first stanza establishes the soul’s autonomy and power as the target of the poem. Dickinson’s speaker is personifying the soul as a feminine being, a choice that comports with her frequent portrayal of the self as an introspective consciousness.
The verb “selects” remains essential in distinguishing a deliberate act of choice. Unlike passive acceptance or arbitrary selection, the soul’s decision to choose its “Society” reflects a profound exercise of individual agency and strength.
The capitalization of “Soul” and “Society” ennobles these terms, attesting to spiritual and metaphysical power. “Society” indicates a selected group of companions that the soul deems worthy of its attention.
The second line, “Then – shuts the Door,” introduces an intense metaphor of exclusion. The act of shutting the door symbolizes the rejection of all that lies outside the soul’s chosen circle.
This exclusionary image invokes both physical and psychological barriers, making clear that the soul’s decision is not merely a preference but instead remains a absolute act of isolation.
The door, a boundary between the inner and outer worlds, becomes an instrument of both inclusion and exclusion, emphasizing the soul’s desire for control over its environment.
The phrase “divine Majority” in the third line refers to a spiritual unity, such as a divine assembly representing the will of a Higher Power, and the soul accepts that “Majority” and its divinity as evidence of its own affirmative judgment.
The “divine Majority” also includes tangentially certain members of the broader societal collective–family and friends–on the earth plane, implying that the soul dismisses the opinions or expectations of the masses but accepts willingly and graciously all those who understand and respect the choices of the speaker.
The adjective “divine” imbues this majority with a sacred quality that it must possess, if the speaker is to sanction it. The final line, “Present no more,” reinforces the irrevocability of this decision. The soul’s chosen society is now its sole focus, and all others are rendered absent, both physically and metaphysically.
Interestingly, the word “present” can be interpreted as either an adjective or a verb, but either interpretation results in the same meaning of the phrase in this context. As a verb, it is a command, “Offer no more suggestions for my perusal.” As an adjective, the speaker is making the simple statement that other than her chosen “divine Majority,” no further admittance is allowed; her group remains complete.
Dickinson’s use of her liberal spray of dashes throughout the stanza creates a spacing rhythm, mirroring the deliberate and measured nature of the soul’s actions. These pauses invite readers or listeners to linger on each phrase, reflecting the weight of the soul’s choices.
The stanza’s brevity and syntactic compression further enhance its impact, distilling complex ideas into a few carefully chosen words. By framing the soul’s selection as both an act of inclusion and exclusion, the speaker has set the stage for the poem’s expression of individualism and its consequences.
Second Stanza: Resisting External Influence
Unmoved – she notes the Chariots – pausing – At her low Gate – Unmoved – an Emperor be kneeling Upon her Mat –
The second stanza shifts its focus from it affirmative declaration to the soul’s unwavering stance in the face of external temptations, reinforcing the theme of absolute individual sovereignty.
The repetition of “Unmoved” at the beginning of the first and third lines serves as a rhetorical anchor, emphasizing the soul’s emotional detachment and unchanging resolve.
This word choice suggests not only indifference but also a deliberate refusal to be swayed by external grandeur or authority. The soul’s ability to remain “unmoved” underscores its inner strength, positioning it as a self-sustaining entity invulnerable to worldly, earthly allure.
The imagery of “Chariots – pausing – / At her low Gate” heralds a scene of pomp and power, seeking entry. Chariots, often associated with military might or royal processions, symbolize societal prestige and influence.
This chariots pausing at the soul’s “low Gate” creates a striking contrast between the grandeur of the material world-at-large and the humility of the soul’s inner mystical domain.
The adjective “low” suggests simplicity and humility—qualities that perfectly align with Dickinson’s speakers’ recurring portrayal of the self as unpretentious yet profoundly self-aware. The gate, like the door in the first stanza, functions as a boundary, reinforcing the soul’s control over who may enter its realm.
The second image of “an Emperor be kneeling / Upon her Mat” magnifies this contrast. The emperor, a figure of supreme authority, is portrayed in a position of supplication—”kneeling” on the soul’s humble mat.
This inversion of power dynamics is astonishing: the soul—humble, modest, and tranquil—commands the respect of even the most powerful figures. The mat, a simple household item, further emphasizes the soul’s unassuming nature, yet its presence in this context elevates it to a symbol of the soul’s complete sovereignty.
The emperor’s kneeling suggests not only deference but also a recognition of the soul’s authority, which transcends all worldly hierarchies. Dickinson’s traditional, abundant splash of dashes in this stanza furthers the pauses, mirroring the soul’s contemplative resistance. Each dash invites the reader to pause and consider the significance of the soul’s indifference to such potent symbols of power.
The stanza’s structure, with its parallel clauses beginning with “Unmoved,” reinforces the soul’s consistency and resolve. By juxtaposing the soul’s simplicity with the grandeur of chariots and emperors, the speaker celebrates the power of inner conviction over external splendor, a theme that resonates with the Dickinsonian broader critique of societal conformity.
Third Stanza: The Final Choice
I’ve known her – from an ample nation – Choose One – Then – close the Valves of her attention – Like Stone –
The third stanza shifts to a personal perspective, as the speaker reveals intimate knowledge of the soul’s behavior with the phrase “I’ve known her.” This shift to the first person opens up her deep familiarity, confirming the speaker’s own experience as one who often chooses solitude over societal engagement.
The phrase “from an ample nation” implies a vast array of potential companions, whether individuals, ideas, or influences. The word “ample” denotes abundance, yet the soul’s choice is singular and exclusive, as it selects only “One.” This act of choosing remains both deliberate as well as reductive, narrowing the soul’s focus to a single entity or ideal.
The metaphor of closing “the Valves of her attention” is particularly salient. The term “Valves” introduces a mechanical image, indicating a controlled and deliberate mechanism for regulating attention. Unlike the organic imagery of doors or gates, valves imply precision and finality, as if the soul is sealing off its consciousness with mechanical efficacy.
The simile, “Like Stone,” further emphasizes this irrevocability, vouchsafing an unyielding, determined state. Stone is nearly immutable and enduring, indicating that the soul’s decision is permanent and secure against change. This image also carries a sense of weight and stillness, contrasting with the dynamic imagery of chariots and emperors in the previous stanza.
The stanza’s brevity enhances its impact, as each line dramatically builds toward the final, evocative image of stone. The dashes keep their rhythm punctuating the lines, creating the important pauses that reflect the gravity of the soul’s withdrawal.
By framing the soul’s choice as selective—inclusive as well as exclusive—the speaker emphasizes the result of such individual autonomy: the soul expresses its sovereignty, and the less important connection with the broader world is exposed and laid to rest.
A Resolute Act of Agency
Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul selects her own Society” is a masterful exploration of individuality, autonomy, and the consequences of deliberate isolation. Through its three quatrains, the poem traces the soul’s journey from selection to rejection to final withdrawal, each stage completed by a resolute act of agency.
The first stanza establishes the soul’s sovereignty through its careful selection of companions, while the second illustrates its resistance to external temptations, and the third underscores the finality of its withdrawal.
Dickinson’s use of vivid imagery–doors, gates, chariots, emperors, valves, and stone–creates a rich tapestry of meaning, inviting readers to contemplate the power and cost of personal choice. The poem’s formal elements, including its concise structure, halting rhythm, and strategic use of dashes, enhance its thematic depth.
The dashes, in particular, serve as a stylistic hallmark, creating pauses that mirror the soul’s contemplative resolve and invite readers to engage with the text on a deeper level.
The capitalization of key terms, such as “Soul,” “Society,” and “Majority,” imbues them with metaphysical significance, elevating the poem’s exploration of individuality to a universal plane.
Contextually, the poem reflects Dickinson’s own life as a poet who chose solitude over societal engagement. Living in Amherst, Massachusetts, Dickinson maintained a reclusive lifestyle, corresponding with a select few while withdrawing from public life. This personal context informs the poem’s celebration of inner conviction, as well as its acknowledgment of the isolation that such conviction entails.
Philosophically, the poem aligns with transcendentalist ideas of self-reliance, as espoused by contemporaries like Ralph Waldo Emerson, though Dickinson’s perspective is more introspective and less optimistic about the individual’s connection to the broader world.
Ultimately, “The Soul selects her own Society” is a testament to Dickinson’s ability to distill complex ideas into concise, evocative verse. The poem invites readers to reflect on the nature of choice, the value of autonomy, and the delicate balance between connection and solitude.
By portraying the soul as a sovereign entity capable of shaping its own destiny, Dickinson’s speaker has affirmed the power of individuality while acknowledging the profound solitude that accompanies such freedom.
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 “All these my banners be”
The speaker celebrates the beauty of wildflowers, which metaphorically represent their mystical counterpart in the spiritual garden, created by the speaker’s powerful and fertile imagination.
Introduction with Text of “All these my banners be”
Like a garden or landscape imbued with numerous colorful wildflowers, the poetic garden that Emily Dickinson’s speaker is creating holds all of the poet’s numerous, colorful poems. She celebrates those natural wildflowers as she showcases the permanence of her own creations.
This speaker, like the Shakespearean speaker, has planted her flag in the ever-existing land of creativity. In that special spiritual garden, she can plant any flower she chooses and in places where she knows they will continue to shed their perfume to noses and their beauty to eyes, as well as their music to ears.
All these my banners be
All these my banners be. I sow my pageantry In May – It rises train by train – Then sleeps in state again – My chancel – all the plain Today.
To lose – if one can find again – To miss – if one shall meet – The Burglar cannot rob – then – The Broker cannot cheat. So build the hillocks gaily Thou little spade of mine Leaving nooks for Daisy And for Columbine – You and I the secret Of the Crocus know – Let us chant it softly – “There is no more snow!”
To him who keeps an Orchis’ heart – The swamps are pink with June.
Reading of “All these my banners be”
Commentary on “All these my banners be”
The speaker is celebrating her spiritual garden of verse, wherein like the beauty of literal wildflowers, the beauty of her poems retain the delicious ability to remain ever existing.
First Stanza: Planting Flags of Sacred Beauty
All these my banners be. I sow my pageantry In May – It rises train by train – Then sleeps in state again – My chancel – all the plain Today.
On the literal level, the speaker is celebrating wildflowers, claiming them as her nation or state, and implying that she is planting them as one would plant a flag to possess a territory or mark the discovery of some formerly distant land.
One may be put in mind of the moon-landing at which time the American astronauts planted the flag of the USA on the moon. Thus, she begins by asserting that all of these flowers are her “banners” or flags.
Interestingly, there is a type of Daylily that sports the nickname “Grand Old Flag,” or as my mother referred to them as “Flags.” These wildflowers grow abundantly along rivers, old country roads, and even along busy highways. They are quite hardy, so hardy, in fact, that some folks actually disdain their presence and seek to halt their spreading abundance.
This speaker adores her expanse of wildflowers. After claiming them as her “banners,” she claims that she is sowing these, her “pageantry,” in the late spring month of May. She colorfully reports that they come shooting up through the earth like trains with a long string of cars that continue to move until they “sleep in state again” or halt from their journey.
The speaker then remarks that this bannered, colorful, and divine expanse of land—”all the land”—is her “chancel” today. Her love and devotion rise to the spiritual level as she calls that “land” metaphorically a “chancel.”
Second Stanza: Creating a Mystical Garden
To lose – if one can find again – To miss – if one shall meet – The Burglar cannot rob – then – The Broker cannot cheat. So build the hillocks gaily Thou little spade of mine Leaving nooks for Daisy And for Columbine – You and I the secret Of the Crocus know – Let us chant it softly – “There is no more snow!”
As she eases into the metaphoric level, the speaker first waxes philosophical about losing and missing things—a state of consciousness that refers to the changing of the seasons.
Seasons with their abundant lush growth on the landscape are routinely followed by seasons in which no growth occurs, and the observer then finds she has lost something that she misses.
It remains the duty of this highly creative and talented speaker to eliminate all those pesky periods of losing, and she can do that metaphorically by creating her own sacred, spiritual garden filled with the flowers that are her poems.
In her mystically created garden, no “Burglar” can “rob,” and no “Broker” can “cheat.” Thus, the various flowers named in the stanza stand both for themselves as well as serving as a metaphoric flower representing her poems.
The speaker then commands her poetic ability, represented metonymically by the “little spade” which becomes a symbol for her writing, to “build the hillock gaily” or get on with creating these marvelous little dramas that keep her enthralled.
That “little spade” carves out “nooks for Daisy” and “for Columbine”—a colorful, fascinating way of asserting that her writing ability produces poems that stand as strong, colorful, and divinely beautiful as those flowers that she names—”Daisy” and “Columbine.”
The speaker intimates to her “little spade” that they two are privy to the same secret known by “the Crocus,” and she insists that they “chant it softly” in that delicious atmosphere in which “There is no more snow!”
The speaker would desire “no more snow” for the simple reason that literal flowers do not spring up in winter. Thus, she is robbed of their beauty, and she misses them. And thus the “no more snow” season for her writing has the power to encompass all the seasons, wherein those objects of beauty can continue to grow and flourish and provide beauty.
Third Stanza: Perpetual June
To him who keeps an Orchis’ heart – The swamps are pink with June.
The speaker then again waxes philosophical about her spiritual garden of flowers. It is an attitude that prevails to cause one to be able to accept the mystical level of being as more alluring and even more beautiful than the physical level that points to it.
As the physical level of being, which is created out of atoms and molecules, contains beauty but that beauty fades and is never permanent, the mystical level, which is created out of inextinguishable light, can remain eternally.
For the earth-bound human being, the concept of and desire for things to exist eternally remain instilled in the heart, mind, and soul. For the mystically inclined individual, the “swamps” remain eternally “pink” as though it were always “June.”
In other words, the individual steeped in spiritual, mystic ardor and filled with creative juices needs only to create a spiritual garden—mystical world—in which permanence does reign eternally.
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 “Summer for thee, grant I may be”
Addressing the Divine Belovèd, Emily Dickinson’s speaker prays to remain a special musical and visual spark in the creation of everlasting, eternal, immortal Bliss.
Introduction with Text of “Summer for thee, grant I may be”
Many of Emily Dickinson’s poems prominently feature humble prayers to the Blessèd Creator. As she adored nature’s many sounds and varieties of colors, she sought to feel her connection through the spiritual level of being to all that makes up the created world. Her favorite season of summer often served as the resplendent muse that allowed her entry into the mystical nature of sound and sight.
Although, on their physical level, those sense-tinged images are beautiful and inspiring, Dickinson created characters to demonstrate the profound awareness that a deeper, even more beautiful and inspiring level of existence could be intuited. As her speakers approach the ineffable, the language grows more intensely mystical, requiring that special reading that all poetry requires but on an ever deeper level.
Summer for thee, grant I may be
Summer for thee, grant I may be When Summer days are flown! Thy music still, when Whipporwill And Oriole – are done!
For thee to bloom, I’ll skip the tomb And row my blossoms o’er! Pray gather me – Anemone – Thy flower – forevermore!
Reading
Commentary on “Summer for thee, grant I may be”
Emily Dickinson’s speaker is addressing her Creator, her Heavenly Father (God), praying to retain her special knowledge of musical and visual imagery that have been especially brought into existence for understanding creation through the art of poetry.
First Stanza: Mystical Metaphors
Summer for thee, grant I may be When Summer days are flown! Thy music still, when Whippoorwill And Oriole – are done!
The speaker begins by addressing the Divine Belovèd, imploring the Heavenly Father to allow her continued mystical existence even after the beautiful summer season’s glowing days “are flown!”
The inspiration in which she has reveled is exemplified in the music of the “Whippoorwill” and the “Oriole.” Both the music of the bird songs and the warmth and beauty of a summer day are contained in the mere reference in the half line “Thy music still . . . .”
The use of the familiar second person pronouns, thee and thy, hint that the speaker is addressing God. Only God, the Heavenly Reality, the Over-Soul, is close enough to the individual soul to require such a personally familiar pronoun in the Dickinsonian era of common parlance, as well as in that of present day English.
Dickinson’s innate ability to intuit from nature the creative power of the Creator urged the poet in her to build entirely new worlds in which she mentally resided, as her soul overflowed with ever new bliss of knowledge. Such knowledge did not arrive in pairs of opposites as earthly knowledge does, but rather that state of knowing afforded her direct perception of truth and reality.
Thus, she employed metaphor as readily as a child employs new and special ways of putting into language concepts he/she has never before encountered. A useful example of this child-metaphor engagement can be observed when hearing little toddler girl call a hangnail a string.
The toddler who had experienced a hangnail but had no name for it still manages to communicate the reality of the hangnail because she does know the nature of both the finger condition and what a string looks like. Although Dickinson is communicating well beyond earthly reality, she can produce a metaphor for the ineffable as easily as a child can name a hangnail a string.
Second Stanza: Rowing in Bliss
For thee to bloom, I’ll skip the tomb And row my blossoms o’er! Pray gather me – Anemone – Thy flower – forevermore!
The speaker then offers a very cheeky remark in claiming she will “skip the tomb.” But she can do so because she has already just revealed the reason for such an ability. The Divine Reality has been blossoming in her.
She can tout her connection and continued existence through Immortality because she knows her soul is everliving, everlasting, and remains a spark of ever-new power. The speaker then rows her immortal sea craft–the soul–which blooms eternally like the most beautiful flowers that earth has to offer.
But even with such knowledge of such power, she remains humble, praying that the Divine Belovèd continues to “gather [her]” as bouquets of other earthly flowers are gathered. She then names the beautiful flower which metaphorically represents her blossoming soul, “Anemone.”
The flower’s musical name as well as variety of colors play in the minds and hearts of readers, as perfect metaphorical representations of the ineffable entity–the ever blissful soul. The minimalism of the Dickinson canon speaks volumes–more than any voluminous text could do.
Such an accomplishment belongs to the wisdom of the ages and to the musing, meditative mind that enters the hallways of reality on the astral and causal levels of existence where artists find their most profound inspiration.
Those who can turn those inspirations into words will always find an audience down through the centuries as long as this plane of earthly existence continues its twirl through space.
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