Before Thou didst become my polestar, I was diverted by the one who boasts Deep fish and salt-crusted waves. The one who puffs our pride that all rivers Rush to embrace his power.
O! I stood dumbfounded at how big his waters were— Without an inkling of Thy infinite vastness, I could never have guessed That he is much less than a raindrop In the palm of Thy hand.
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 “I taste a liquor never brewed”
Emily Dickinson’s “I taste a liquor never brewed” is one of her most enthralling little poems. In this poem, the speaker is likening spiritual ardor to drunkenness.
Introduction and Text of “I taste a liquor never brewed”
The theme of Emily Dickinson’s “I taste a liquor never brewed” is similar to Paramahansa Yogananda’s chant: “I will sing thy Name, I will drink thy Name, and get all drunk, O, with thy Name!”
Dickinson’s speaker proclaims a spiritual consciousness. The poem extends the metaphor of drunkenness to describe the status of a soul in mystical union with the Divine.
Dickinson’s speaker in “I taste a liquor never brewed” describes a consciousness steeped in a mystical state that mimics inebriation. She is inspired and enthralled seemingly just by breathing the air around her.
The speaker’s consciousness becomes aware of itself and propels her into an immense universe that is difficult to describe. Thus she uses the alcohol metaphor to approximate the physical sensation of what she is experiencing spiritually.
Thomas H. Johnson numbered this poem #214 in his useful work, The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, which restored Dickinson’s peculiar punctuation and elliptical style. As usual, Dickinson employed slant rime or near rime; for example, she rimes Pearl and Alcohol.
I taste a liquor never brewed
I taste a liquor never brewed – From Tankards scooped in Pearl – Not all the Vats upon the Rhine Yield such an Alcohol!
Inebriate of Air – am I – And Debauchee of Dew – Reeling – thro endless summer days – From inns of Molten Blue –
When “Landlords” turn the drunken Bee Out of the Foxglove’s door – When Butterflies – renounce their “drams” – I shall but drink the more!
Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats – And Saints – to windows run – To see the little Tippler Leaning against the – Sun —
Commentary on “I taste a liquor never brewed”
Emily Dickinson’s “I taste a liquor never brewed” is one of the poet’s most enthralling little poems, employing the metaphor of drunkenness to describe spiritual ardor.
Stanza 1: Imbibing a Non-Brewed Beverage
I taste a liquor never brewed – From Tankards scooped in Pearl – Not all the Vats upon the Rhine Yield such an Alcohol!
The speaker announces that she has been imbibing a drink, but that beverage is not one that has been brewed, which eliminates alcohol, tea, and coffee, this is, the beverages which have mind-altering capabilities. She then begins an extended metaphor, likening the effect of her “liquor” to that of an alcoholic beverage.
The “Tankards scooped in Pearl” simulate the vessels from which the speaker has been imbibing her rare concoction. The consciousness which the speaker wishes to describe transcends the physical consciousness of an alcohol hum; thus the speaker must resort to metaphor to communicate as nearly as possible this ineffable state.
Those rare tankards having been “scooped in Pearl” spiritually correspond to the nature of the soul. She has, in fact, drunk a beverage that has not been brewed from a vessel that has not been manufactured by human hands.
Stanza 2: It Resembles Being Drunk
Inebriate of Air – am I – And Debauchee of Dew – Reeling – thro endless summer days – From inns of Molten Blue –
Dickinson’s speaker continues her metaphor by revealing that the feeling she is experiencing is like being drunk on air; thus the act of simply taking a breath of air has the power to intoxicate her.
Not only air, but the “Dew” has this delicious effect. Further physical realities like a summer day make her feel that she has been drinking at a tavern, “Inns of Molten Blue.” All this imbibing leaves her “reeling” from this rare form of intoxicant.
Stanza 3: A Drunken State That Never Ceases
When “Landlords” turn the drunken Bee Out of the Foxglove’s door – When Butterflies – renounce their “drams” – I shall but drink the more!
On the stage of nature, the speaker is accompanied by “bees and butterflies,” and these fellow creatures quite literally imbibe nectar from flowers. The speaker’s brand of liquor has an advantage over that of the bees. They have to stop their imbibing and leave their blossoms or else they will become trapped as the petals close up for the night.
But because of the spiritual nature of this speaker’s intoxication, she does not have stop drinking. She can enjoy her drunken state without end. Only on the physical plane do activities begin and end; on the spiritual plane, the intoxication has no need to cease. The eternal soul is without boundaries of space and time.
Stanza 4; The Dash That Runs to Eternity
Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats – And Saints – to windows run – To see the little Tippler Leaning against the – Sun –
The speaker boasts that she will never have to curtail her mode of mystical intoxication. As the penultimate stanza ends with the claim, “I shall but drink the more!,” the idea continues into the final stanza. By placing the time of her stopping her drinking at two fantastic events that will never occur, she emphatically asserts that she will never have to stop her drinking binge.
When the highest order of angels, the “Seraphs,” commit the unlikely act of “swing[ing] their snowy Hats,” and curious saints run to windows, only then shall she cease her imbibing. That time is never because Seraphs and saints do not comport themselves with such behavior.
The speaker calls herself “the little Tippler” and positions herself “[l]eaning against the — Sun.” Another impossible act on the physical level, but one quite possible on the mystical.
The final clue that the speaker is asserting her ability never to stop drinking of the mystical wine is the final punctuation of the dash — that concludes her report. The period, question mark, or exclamation mark, as some editors have employed, denote finality while the dash does not.
Thomas H. Johnson has restored the dash — to this poem in his The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson. When other versions lose the Dickinsonian dash, they also lose a nuance of her meaning.
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 “I never told the buried gold”
In Emily Dickinson’s “I never told the buried gold,” the speaker has made an amazing discovery; she then creates a little drama in which she muses on whether to reveal that discovery.
Introduction with Text of “I never told the buried gold”
The speaker in Emily Dickinson’s “I never told the buried gold” seems to be sharing a secret, but it is a secret so bizarre that she must couch it deeply in mystery.
She has realized a possession that is buried so deep in her psyche that she must dramatize it by creating a parable-like discourse, and she yet remains so ambivalent about revealing it that she seems to continue to waver as her drama unfolds.
I never told the buried gold
I never told the buried gold Upon the hill – that lies – I saw the sun – his plunder done Crouch low to guard his prize.
He stood as near As stood you here – A pace had been between – Did but a snake bisect the brake My life had forfeit been.
That was a wondrous booty – I hope ’twas honest gained. Those were the fairest ingots That ever kissed the spade!
Whether to keep the secret – Whether to reveal – Whether as I ponder Kidd will sudden sail –
Could a shrewd advise me We might e’en divide – Should a shrewd betray me – Atropos decide!
Commentary on “I never told the buried gold”
The speaker is dramatizing her process of decision-making involving a recent discovery.
First Stanza: Revealing a Secret
I never told the buried gold Upon the hill – that lies – I saw the sun – his plunder done Crouch low to guard his prize.
The speaker begins by reporting that she has never told anyone about this treasure that she possesses. Then immediately she begins to liken it to the valuable metal, “gold.” She places that gold upon a hill where the sun is guarding it. This gold belongs to the sun in the same way that her possession belongs to her.
The sun seems to “plunder” as it moves about in its shining rays over the landscape, and it then stoops over the hill where the gold is buried; in stealth, the sun watches over its treasure. The speaker has observed this odd behavior of the heavenly orb.
Thus, she likens her own guarding of her “prize” to that of the sun guarding the gold. The speaker intends to guard her prize because of its unusual nature, but the sun will continue to keep its prize safe out of sheer natural necessity.
Second Stanza: The Shock of Recognition
He stood as near As stood you here – A pace had been between – Did but a snake bisect the brake My life had forfeit been.
The speaker now has the sun standing near her, as near as the imaginary audience she is addressing. There is, however, “a pace” between them.
And then a snake slithers through the thicket, dividing the foliage as it is wont to do. (This image is reminiscent of the line, “The Grass divides as with a Comb,” in Dickinson’s riddle poem, “A narrow Fellow in the Grass.”)
The speaker then makes the odd claim that her life had been forfeited, suggesting that for an instant she likely gave out a gasp of fear before regaining her equilibrium enough to continue living, thinking, and creating her drama. The snake supplies the impetus for the notion of life forfeiting.
While the speaker suddenly experiences the epiphany that she was in possession of this magnificent, golden gift, she also experiences a shock that unsettled her for at least a brief moment.
Third Stanza: Desire to be Worthy
That was a wondrous booty – I hope ’twas honest gained. Those were the fairest ingots That ever kissed the spade!
The speaker now admits that what she has realized about herself is tantamount to coming into the possession of large storehouse of amazing gifts or treasure. She calls her treasure “wondrous booty,” and then she indicates that she hopes she has earned this amazing treasure-trove, and not merely stolen it or been given it willy-nilly, or inexplicably.
The speaker then sizes up the value of this mysterious possession, by continuing the “gold” metaphor. Now calling her possession “ingots,” she estimates their value as the “fairest” “that ever kissed the spade.”
Of course, ingots must be dug out of the ground, and when they are found by the excavating shovel, those ingots meet the metal of the “spade” with resounding touch, which the speaker calls a “kiss.”
Fourth Stanza: Whether to Reveal the Secret
Whether to keep the secret – Whether to reveal – Whether as I ponder Kidd will sudden sail –
Again, the speaker becomes ambivalent about revealing this amazing “secret.” She lists her toggling of the mind that cannot decide if she should keep hidden this new knowledge or whether she ought to announce it.
As the speaker muses on the issue—whether to tell or not, she reckons that Captain Kidd might just be sailing to retrieve his own booty of treasure, which by legend he had buried in the Caribbean.
This clever employment of “Kidd” and the allusion that it implies deepens the “gold” and treasure metaphor, continuing the revelation of the value the speaker has placed on this mysterious treasure of which she has become aware.
Fifth Stanza: Leaving the Mystery to Eternity
Could a shrewd advise me We might e’en divide – Should a shrewd betray me – Atropos decide!
The speaker then makes a hilarious admission. If someone who is smart enough to know whether she should reveal her treasure should let her know what is appropriate, she would be willing to give that person part of her treasure.
But she does not know if there is such a knowledgeable person who is trustworthy. If she reveals her secret to the wrong “shrewd,” she might live to regret it. She could be ridiculed and left to suffer much betrayal.
By calling her potential advisor a “shrewd,” the speaker is making fun of such individuals whom she thinks might believe they are, in fact, capable of advising her. But because she allows that a “shrewd” could likely betray her confidence, she remains ambivalent about seeking their advice.
Instead of making a definite decision about whether to seek counsel from one of those shrewds, the speaker decides not to decide. She will leave the decision to “Atropos,” one of the Greek Fates, who is responsible for deciding the exact time for the end of each human life. Atropos held the scissors that cut the thread of life.
The speaker thus decides to leave her decision to the ultimate decision-maker, one whose decision is not only final but made without equivocation. The speaker will remain in humble possession of her knowledge that she owns a mystic, creative soul that will from now on guide her in her creation of little dramas on her pathway through life.
Without having revealed her secret to the wide, gaping yet eyeless majority of the world, the speaker has revealed her secret only to those who will understand. It is in that respect that the speaker’s poem is like a parable of Lord Jesus the Christ, who spoke through that form only to those who had ears to hear.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s final sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers” from the sequence assures her belovèd that she has finally accepted his gift of love.
Introduction and Text of Sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s final sonnet from the Sonnets from the Portuguese sequence assures her belovèd that she has finally accepted his gift of love. Sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers” is the final poem, which completes this remarkable sequence of love poems.
This sonnet finds the speaker musing on the flowers that her belovèd has brought to her. The speaker quickly transforms the physical blossoms into metaphysical blooms that symbolize the lovers’ bond.
After all the handwringing of self-doubt that has plagued the speaker throughout this sequence, she must now find a way to assure both herself and her belovèd that her mind set has transformed itself from the dull negative to a shining positive. The speaker must show her fiancé that they are bound together with an exceptional love. She must also make it clear that she understands the strong ties they now possess.
The speaker’s metaphoric comparison of the love gifts of physical flowers and the symbolic flowers that she has created from her own heart soil will remain an eternal reminder to both herself and her belovèd as they travel the road of marriage together.
Sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers”
Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers Plucked in the garden, all the summer through And winter, and it seemed as if they grew In this close room, nor missed the sun and showers. So, in the like name of that love of ours, Take back these thoughts which here unfolded too, And which on warm and cold days I withdrew From my heart’s ground. Indeed, those beds and bowers Be overgrown with bitter weeds and rue, And wait thy weeding; yet here’s eglantine, Here’s ivy!—take them, as I used to do Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine Instruct thine eyes to keep their colors true, And tell thy soul their roots are left in mine.
Commentary on Sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers”
The final sonnet in the sequence assures the speaker’s belovèd that she has finally accepted his gift of love, without any further doubts.
First Quatrain: A Gift of Flowers
Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers Plucked in the garden, all the summer through And winter, and it seemed as if they grew In this close room, nor missed the sun and showers.
The speaker muses about the flowers that her belovèd has given her during summer. To her it seems that the flowers have remained as vibrant indoors in her “close room” as they were outside in the “sun and showers.”
These miraculous flowers seem to have remained healthy and glowing even during winter. The speaker then insists that they “grew / In this close room” and that they did not miss “the sun and showers.”
Of course, the physical flowers are just the motivation for the musing, which transforms the physical blooms into flowers of a metaphysical sort—those that have impressed images upon her soul, beyond the image on the retina.
Second Quatrain: Sonnets as Flower-Thoughts
So, in the like name of that love of ours, Take back these thoughts which here unfolded too, And which on warm and cold days I withdrew From my heart’s ground. Indeed, those beds and bowers
Thus the speaker commands her belovèd to “take back these thoughts which here unfolded too.” She is referring to her sonnets, which are her flower-thoughts given to her belovèd to honor their love.
The speaker affirms that she has plucked her sonnet-flowers “from [her] heart’s ground.” And the creative speaker has composed her tributes on “warm and cold days.”
The weather in the speaker’s heart and soul was always equal to producing fine blossoms for her loved one. As the speaker basked in his love, the flower “beds and bowers” produced these poems with floral fragrance and hues.
First Tercet: Correcting Her Clumsiness
Be overgrown with bitter weeds and rue, And wait thy weeding; yet here’s eglantine, Here’s ivy!—take them, as I used to do
The speaker then inserts her usual self-deprecatory thoughts, admitting that her floral efforts are surely, “overgrown with bitter weeds and rue,” but she gladly submits them for him to “weed” as needed.
The speaker’s gifted and talented belovèd can correct her clumsiness. She names two of her poems “eglantine” and “ivy” and commands him to “take them,” as she used to take his gifts of flowers, and probably gifts of his own poems to her as well.
Second Tercet: In His Care
Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine Instruct thine eyes to keep their colors true, And tell thy soul their roots are left in mine.
The speaker commands her belovèd to safeguard her pieces so “they shall not pine.” In his care, she will also not pine. And the poem will “instruct [his] eyes” to the true feelings she bears for him.
The speaker’s poems will henceforth remind him that she feels bound to him at the soul. Soul qualities have always been more important to this speaker than physical and mental qualities.
The “colors true” of this speaker’s sonnets will continue to pour forth her love for her belovèd and “tell [his] soul their roots are left in [hers].” Each sonnet will reinforce their love and celebrate the life they will make together.
Image: Elizabeth Barrett Browning – Engraving from original Painting by Chappel, 1872. (Photo by: Universal History Archive/Universal Images Group via Getty Images)
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 43 “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways”
The sonnet “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways”—number 43 in Sonnets from the Portuguese—remains the most famous and widely read sonnet of the sequence. The speaker is offering a summary of all the ways she has come to love her soon to be husband.
Introduction and Text of Sonnet 43 “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways”
Sonnet 43 “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways” is the most widely anthologized sonnet from Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sequence titled Sonnets from the Portuguese. It is likely the many high school or college graduates remember that line but may have remained unaware that it is only #43 from its accompanying sequence of 43 other sonnets.
The sonnet is a Petrarchan sonnet as are all of the other sonnets in the sequence. In the octave, the speaker is musing about how much she loves her belovèd suitor, and she asks the question, “How do I love thee?”
Then the speaker proceeds to answer the question, so the reader becomes aware that the speaker is not literally addressing her belovèd, but she is addressing the thought or perhaps even an image of that belovèd. In the sestet, the speaker counts three definite ways and one possible way that she will love him throughout eternity.
Sonnet 43 “H0w do I love thee? Let me count the ways”
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday’s Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
Commentary on Sonnet 43 “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways”
Sonnet 43 “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways” remains the most famous and widely read sonnet of the sequence.
First Quatrain: An Emphatic Rhetorical Question
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
The speaker asks an obvious rhetorical question that requires only her feeling to fill out; thus she continues, “Let me count the ways.” She loves him with all her soul, as that soul strives for an idealism that has to be left up to faith. The soul searches in all directions through “depth and breadth and height” for this idealism, which this speaker calls “the ends of Being and ideal Grace.”
Second Quatrain: Love and All Levels
I love thee to the level of everyday’s Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
The speaker has begun with the sublime, ethereal level of her love by invoking how she loves her belovèd on the spiritual level. The speaker then brings herself quickly back to the mundane activities of daily life by saying that another way she loves him is through even the smallest daily act whether that act is performed during the daylight hours or during the night, “by sun and candle-light.”
The speaker then asserts that her love for her belovèd is spontaneous and “freely” given; therefore, she loves him in the way humankind loves freedom and acts correctly in striving to secure and maintain that freedom. She then claims that her love is as pure as those who are humble when praised. In the octave, the speaker has signified four ways she loves her belovèd: spiritually, materially, “freely,” and “purely.”
First Tercet: All Encompassing Love
I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
The speaker loves him with the same ardor that used to grip her when she faced difficulties, but this “passion” is tempered by the fact that that love is also similar to the love that childhood provided her, an opposite kind of emotion from the one that caused her “old griefs.” This love includes the polar opposites of fear and love, with love tempering the fear in a balanced and useful way.
The speaker also loves her belovèd life mate with a kind of respect and admiration that she thought she had outgrown; this group of people could be a fairly large one, including friends, teachers, relatives, and even religious “saints,” the term she uses. But the key word is that she “seemed” to lose this love, but with her belovèd suitor, that love is returned to her.
Second Tercet: Love unto Eternity
With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
The next way she loves her belovèd she asserts in a breathless, almost ecstatic pronouncement: “— I love thee with the breath, / Smiles, tears, of all my life! —.” Placed between dashes, these terms then signal an emphasis of expression.
This assertion captures the excitement and underscores the passion in the speaker’s claim, while it prepares the reader or listener, for the last breathtaking claim that, “if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.”
So in the sestet, the speaker again professes four ways in which she loves the belovèd: with a passion of meeting former challenges but tempered by a childlike faith, with a kind of love she thought she had lost, and with her whole being. But most importantly for this speaker, she has faith that she will love this belovèd soul mate eternally.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 39 “Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace”
In sonnet 39 “Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace,” the speaker is crediting her belovèd with being able to see her true soul through all of the despair that the years have heaped upon her.
Introduction and Text of Sonnet 39 “Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace”
In Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet 39 from Sonnets from the Portuguese, the speaker endeavors to leave her former diminished stature behind now that she is unconditionally loved by a wonderful man.
The speaker is heaping all the credit upon her belovèd fiancé for her acquiring the ability to perceive her true nature despite all of the sorrow that years of pining away have left in her life.
Sonnet 39 “Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace”
Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace To look through and behind this mask of me (Against which years have beat thus blanchingly With their rains), and behold my soul’s true face, The dim and weary witness of life’s race,— Because thou hast the faith and love to see, Through that same soul’s distracting lethargy, The patient angel waiting for a place In the new Heavens,—because nor sin nor woe,Nor God’s infliction, nor death’s neighborhood, Nor all which others viewing, turn to go, Nor all which makes me tired of all, self-viewed,— Nothing repels thee, … Dearest, teach me so To pour out gratitude, as thou dost, good!
Commentary on Sonnet 39 “Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace”
The speakers revealing the importance of the influence of her belovèd for her newly acquired, delicious ability to see her true soul through all of the despair that the years have foisted upon her.
First Quatrain: Powers of Vision
Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace To look through and behind this mask of me (Against which years have beat thus blanchingly With their rains), and behold my soul’s true face,
Addressing her belovèd, the speaker credits him with the ability to see through the veil she has drooped around herself for protection. Throughout her life, the years of feeling sad and sorrowful have taken a tremendous toll on her physical beauty and mental attitude.
However, her new love is able to pierce through those superficialities to perceive the value of her soul. The speaker implies that she has spent many hours crying; therefore, she metaphorically transforms the tears and years into “rains” that have “beat thus blanchingly.”
Second Quatrain: A Forlorn Life
The dim and weary witness of life’s race,— Because thou hast the faith and love to see, Through that same soul’s distracting lethargy, The patient angel waiting for a place
The speaker avers that her forlorn life has been witnessed by her soul, which has come to identify itself as “dim and weary.” The melancholy speaker then reports and concludes that her new love has both the “faith and love” that enable him to intuit the true nature or her soul.
Though the speaker’s soul has been abused in the senses as she experienced so much pain, doubt, and anguish and thus has grown dull with “distracting lethargy,” it remained a “patient angel,” biding its time for better things to come.
First Tercet: A New Blossoming
In the new Heavens,—because nor sin nor woe,Nor God’s infliction, nor death’s neighborhood, Nor all which others viewing, turn to go, Nor all which makes me tired of all, self-viewed,— Nothing repels thee, … Dearest, teach me so To pour out gratitude, as thou dost, good!
As the speaker’s heavy-burdened soul waited “for a place / / In the new Heavens,” she now realizes the extent to which she has become aware of a new blossoming through the love of her suitor. The speaker then begins a catalogue of negativity that has not been able to impede her belovèd from sensing the face of her real soul.
That list includes “nor sin nor woe.” Furthermore, “God’s infliction” and “death’s neighborhood” could not hide her soul from him. And even other impediments of her personality that repelled others could not make her belovèd abandon her.
Second Tercet: A Catalogue of Maladies
Nor all which makes me tired of all, self-viewed,— Nothing repels thee, … Dearest, teach me so To pour out gratitude, as thou dost, good!
Continuing the catalogue of maladies, the speaker includes “all which makes me tired of all, self-viewed.” When she judged herself most harshly, she had found so many imperfections that the accumulation of them weakened her will to live a productive life. Yet even these worst qualities of character have not been able to route the speaker’s new love from her, and her final remark shows the nature of her true soul.
The recovering melancholic speaker now commands her belovèd to offer her instruction in remaining and showing thankfulness. The speaker’s miserable life has made her feel that she hitherto had nothing for which to be thankful, and now she needs to learn how to show gratitude, instead of masking it behind a veil of tears.
The speaker finally asserts that her belovèd has the ability to pour out “good” with such a spontaneous ease that she wants to learn to do so as well. If her belovèd suitor is so generous with being “good,” then the speaker wants to become generous in being thankful.
Breaking the Coffee Habit: A Devotee’s Reflection in the Spirit of Paramahansa Yogananda
“The soul is ever-free. It is deathless because it is birthless. It cannot be regimented by the stars.”—Paramahansa Yogananda in Autobiography of a Yogi
There is a light within each human being that has never dimmed. It shone before your first sip of coffee and will blaze undimmed long after the last cup is set aside. This light is no fleeting glow borrowed from caffeine—it is the eternal flame of the Atman, the divine Self that the great guru Paramahansa Yogananda (Guruji*) devoted his life to revealing.
Though the soul itself remains ever-free—untouched by birth, death, or any compulsion—it is the mind, clouded by identification with the physical encasement (body), that feels bound. To release the subtle dependency on caffeine is to loosen the mind’s grip on external props, allowing the soul’s innate radiance to shine through unobstructed.
Liberation: Practicing Non-Attachment
Paramahansa Yogananda taught that the spiritual path is, at its essence, liberation from all bondages. Every habit, however mild, forms an invisible chain that restrains the mind’s will and veils the soul’s bliss. Vairagya—non-attachment—was for him not austere denial but a joyful turning toward God, peeling away artificial stimulations so the natural joy of the soul might emerge.
The morning reach for coffee whispers to the mind: “You are not enough. You need something outside to awaken, to be alert, to live.” Each conscious choice to set the cup aside answers with the authority of the Self (Soul): “I am sufficient. God’s energy sustains me. I need nothing but the Infinite.”
In this small act of detachment lies a direct practice of the renunciation Guruji praised as the foundation of lasting happiness. (See his “How to Free Yourself from Bad Habits” in The Divine Romance.)
Prana: The Divine Source of Vitality
Guruji offered his disciples something far more potent than any earthly brew: the science of prana, the cosmic life-force that animates all creation, the very breath of God flowing through every cell. Through his Energization Exercises, Hong-Sau and Om Techniques, and Kriya Yoga, he showed how to draw consciously upon this inexhaustible, cosmic vitality.
Caffeine provides only borrowed energy—stimulating yet depleting, agitating the nerves, inflaming emotions, and leaving behind the fatigue it momentarily masked. Prana, in contrast, restores, regenerates, and uplifts without rebound. To detach from caffeine is to make space for this greater gift. It is to declare to the Universe: “I am ready to receive Thine energy directly, without the veil of stimulants.”
Those who meditate deeply know the truth from experience: after genuine stillness comes an alertness and joy no cup could produce—a clear, steady luminosity of mind that calms rather than jangles, sustains without craving, and reveals the ever-new bliss of Sat-Chit-Ananda. What the mind once sought clumsily in a morning ritual was always a veiled longing for this divine state—available within, waiting to be claimed.
The Will: God’s Greatest Gift to the Mind
Yoganandaji held the human will in profound reverence as the soul’s instrument for mastery over body and senses. The greater the will, the greater the flow of energy. Every victory over a habit strengthens this divine faculty; every surrender dulls it.
Guruji recommends beginning with small disciplines, sustained with determination and devotion, for such discipline burns away dependency and forges the will in purifying fire. Yet he was ever tender and non-judgmental, counseling patience, humor, and prayer in moments of weakness.
When craving arises, sit quietly, breathe deeply, and inwardly call: “Divine Mother, fill me now with Your energy.” To transcend through such prayer is genuine alchemy—the mind’s transformation by grace.
The Body as Temple: Cultivating Sattva
Guruji regarded the physical encasement as a sacred temple hosting the soul for its earthly evolution. He guided toward sattvic living—purity, clarity, lightness—in diet, habits, and rest, while cautioning against rajasic influences that stir restlessness.
Caffeine, by its stimulating nature, is rajasic: it agitates the nervous system, disrupts emotional balance, and creates cycles of artificial highs and lows that hamper meditation and obscure the still, small voice within.
Letting go that stimulant honors the temple’s potential for steadiness. Devotees who make this shift often marvel at the results: moods even out, sleep deepens, morning meditation quiets, and the mind settles into God’s intended rhythm—where inner hearing becomes clear and natural.
Sacred Tradition: Offering Love to the Guru
In the sacred tradition of discipleship, giving up a cherished habit becomes an act of devotion—an offering laid at the Guru’s feet. It says, “I trust Thy guidance more than this craving.” Guruji taught that the Guru cherishes not perfection but sincere effort, the heart’s turning. (See “The Bad Man Who Was Preferred by God)
Each morning that you choose prana over stimulation, stillness over restlessness, the soul’s light over borrowed brightness, you place another garland before Guruji. In the silent ways of the Guru-disciple bond, he receives it and strengthens you for the next choice. Devotees quickly learn that by the grace of the Guru, all difficulties are resolved and all good things are possible.
A Personal Quip: My Quest for God
Since March 1978, I have walked this path charted by my Guru Paramahansa Yogananda and his organization Self-Realization Fellowship—meditating, praying, serving, studying under Guruji’s grace. I have made my humble attempts to offer as much as possible to this quest for God.
This one small, sacred surrender—to free my mind from yet another veil of dependency—lies well within my power. The same will that drew me to my Guru’s feet can gently break this last chain, allowing fuller realization of my ever-free soul.
I must follow this sacred path with greater trust and faith. I must strengthen it daily in meditation. I must know with certainty: the bliss tasted in my deepest meditations is the immortal energy that will sustain me and transform every craving into quiet, unshakable joy. The light within needs no fuel but God, the Divine Stimulant.
O Divine Belovèd! Let my mind’s clouds part, and let the light shine free.
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*Guruji is the reverential appellation that devotees use in addressing or referring to their beloved Guru; this is the appellation I personally prefer. Other devotees prefer referring to Paramahansa Yogananda as Master, who was and is the master over his human and divine Self.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 20 “Beloved, my Beloved, when I think”
Sonnet 20 “Beloved, my Beloved, when I think” from Sonnets from the Portuguese finds the speaker in a pensive mood, dramatizing her awe at the difference a year has made in her life.
Introduction with Text of Sonnet 20 “Beloved, my Beloved, when I think”
The speaker in Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet 20 “Beloved, my Beloved, when I think” from Sonnets from the Portuguese remembers that just year ago she would not have been able to imagine that a love relationship with someone so important as her belovèd would break the chains of sorrow with which she has been bound for many years.
This sonnet finds the speaker in a pensive mood, dramatizing her awe at the difference a year has made in her life. The speaker is gaining confidence in her ability to attract and return the kind of love that she has yearned for but heretofore considered herself unworthy of possessing.
Sonnet 20 “Beloved, my Beloved, when I think”
Beloved, my Beloved, when I think That thou wast in the world a year ago, What time I sate alone here in the snow And saw no footprint, heard the silence sink No moment at thy voice … but, link by link, Went counting all my chains, as if that so They never could fall off at any blow Struck by thy possible hand … why, thus I drink Of life’s great cup of wonder! Wonderful, Never to feel thee thrill the day or night With personal act or speech,—nor ever cull Some prescience of thee with the blossoms white Thou sawest growing! Atheists are as dull, Who cannot guess God’s presence out of sight.
Commentary on Sonnet 20 “Beloved, my Beloved, when I think”
Sonnet 20 “Beloved, my Beloved, when I think” finds the speaker in a pensive mood, dramatizing her awe at the difference a year has made in her life.
First Quatrain: The Difference a Year Makes
Beloved, my Beloved, when I think That thou wast in the world a year ago, What time I sate alone here in the snow And saw no footprint, heard the silence sink
The speaker is reminiscing about her feelings “a year ago” before she had met her belovèd. She sat watching the snow that remained without his “footprint.” The silence surrounding her lingered without her hearing his voice. The speaker is structuring her remarks in when/then clauses; she will be saying, “when” this was true, “then” something else was true.
In the first quatrain, she is thus beginning her clause with “when I think” and what she is thinking about is the time before her belovèd and she had met. She continues the “when” clause until the last line of the second quatrain.
Second Quatrain: Never to be Broken Chains
No moment at thy voice … but, link by link, Went counting all my chains, as if that so They never could fall off at any blow Struck by thy possible hand … why, thus I drink
Continuing to recount what she did and how she felt before her ne love came into her life, she reminds her audience that she was bound by “all my chains” which she “went counting” and believing would never be broken. The speaker makes it clear that her belovèd has, in fact, been responsible for breaking those chains of pain and sorrow that kept her bound and weeping.
The speaker then moves into the “then” construction, averring that the arrival of her belovèd is, indeed, the reason that she can now look on the world as a place “of wonder.” At this point, she is simply experiencing the awe of wonder that she should be so fortunate to have her belovèd strike those metaphorical blows against the chains of sorrow that kept her in misery.
First Tercet: Near Incredulous
Of life’s great cup of wonder! Wonderful, Never to feel thee thrill the day or night With personal act or speech,—nor ever cull
The speaker then expounds on what she had not been able to foretell as she remained unable to experience the joy and thrill of living that her belovèd has now afforded her through his acts of kindness and his verbal expressions of affection. The speaker is nearly incredulous that she could have remained without the love that has become so important to her.
Second Tercet: Dull as Atheists
Some prescience of thee with the blossoms white Thou sawest growing! Atheists are as dull, Who cannot guess God’s presence out of sight.
The speaker adds another part of her astonishing “wonder”: that she was not able to sense that such a being might actually be living and amenable to having a relationship with her. She feels that she should have had some inkling of awareness that such might be the case.
She sees now that she was “as dull” as “atheists,” those unimaginative souls, “who cannot guess God’s presence out of sight.” The speaker’s belovèd is such a marvelous work of nature that she imbues him with a certain divine stature, and she considers herself somewhat “dull” for not being about to guess that such a one existed.
As atheists are unable to surmise of Supreme Intelligence guiding the ordered cosmos, she was incapable of imagining that one such as her belovèd would come along and free her from her self-induced coma of sadness.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 7 “The face of all the world is changed, I think”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet 7, “The face of all the world is changed, I think,“ offers a tribute to the speaker’s lover, who has wrought deep and lasting important changes in the speaker’s life.
Introduction with Text of Sonnet 7 “The face of all the world is changed, I think”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet #7, “The face of all the world is changed, I think,” from Sonnets from the Portuguese expresses the speaker’s astonishment and delight at a new awareness she is sensing.
She has begun to notice that her situation is in the process of a unique transformation, and she, therefore, wishes to extend her gratitude to her belovèd suitor for these marvelous, soul-inspiring changes in her life.
Sonnet 7 “The face of all the world is changed, I think”
The face of all the world is changed, I think, Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stole Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink, Was caught up into love, and taught the whole Of life in a new rhythm. The cup of dole God gave for baptism, I am fain to drink, And praise its sweetness, Sweet, with thee anear. The names of country, heaven, are changed away For where thou art or shalt be, there or here; And this … this lute and song … loved yesterday, (The singing angels know) are only dear Because thy name moves right in what they say.
Reading
Commentary on Sonnet 7 “The face of all the world is changed, I think”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet 7, “The face of all the world is changed, I think,” focuses specifically on the tribute to the speaker’s belovèd partner in love, who has wrought deep and lasting important changes in her life.
In fact, the entire sonnet sequence performs the awe-inspiring task of recording the evolution of the poet’s life transformation after meeting and becoming the partner of her belovèd life mate.
First Quatrain: The Speaker’s Changing Environment
The face of all the world is changed, I think, Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stole Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink
The emotional speaker notes that all things in her environs have changed their appearance because of her new outlook after having become aware of her new love. Lovers traditionally begin to see the world through rose-colored glasses upon falling in love. The happiness in the heart spreads like a lovely, fragrant flower garden throughout the lover’s whole being.
Every ordinary object takes on a brilliant, rosy glow that flows like a gentle river from the happiness in the heart of the romantic lover.This deep-thinking speaker asserts that her lover has placed himself between her and the terrible “death.”
Heretofore, she had sensed that all she had to look forward to was more misery and ultimately the act of leaving her physical body. That mindset had continued to engulf her being her whole lifelong.
But now the “footsteps” of her belovèd suitor have been so gentle that they seemed to be the soft sounds of his soul approaching her. His meaning for her has become deep and abiding, spreading meaning and joy in her life.
Second Quatrain: Doomed Without Love
Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink, Was caught up into love, and taught the whole Of life in a new rhythm. The cup of dole God gave for baptism, I am fain to drink,
The speaker had been convinced that without such a love to save her she would be doomed to “obvious death.” She finds herself suddenly transported to a new world, a new “life in a new rhythm” with the arrival of her belovèd suitor.
She has been so mired in sadness that it seemed that she was being “baptized” in that mindset, as one drowning in one’s own fears and tears.However, the melancholy speaker finds herself reluctant to allow herself complete immersion in her newfound happiness, but still she has to admit that her new status is overcoming her prior terror.She is beginning slowly to change her doubts to delightful possibilities.
First Tercet: A Universal Change
And praise its sweetness, Sweet, with thee anear. The names of country, heaven, are changed away For where thou art or shalt be, there or here;
The speaker must extol the “sweetness” that she receives from her new belovèd swain. Because he is beside her, she has changed in a universal way—”names of country, heaven, are changed away.”
Nothing is the same, even the ordinary names of things seem altered and in a good way; all of her old cheerless, dreary life is transforming utterly, and she finally seems to become able to enjoy and appreciate this transformation.The more confident speaker is now willing to entertain the notion that he will remain by her side to delight her life permanently, throughout time and space.
Second Tercet: The Singing of Angels
And this … this lute and song … loved yesterday, (The singing angels know) are only dear Because thy name moves right in what they say.
The glad speaker hears the angels singing in the voice of her belovèd suitor.Even as she loved his poems and music before this new awakening of love between the two, she has now become even more enamored with those art forms after only a brief period of time has passed. His very name motivates the speaker in a heavenly manner. As the angels sing and heavenly music delights her, she realizes that her belovèd has brought about her pleasant state of mind.
The thankful speaker wants to give him all the tribute he deserves. She feels that she cannot exaggerate the magnitude of his effect on her state of being and thinking.And everything she knows and feels now fills her heart and mind with new life.
Earlier in her life, she had become convinced that she could never experience the joy and fulfillment that she sees herself heading into now because of this special, accomplished man.
With such an important transformation, she now senses that she cannot say enough to express the value of such an vital act for her well-being and growth. She has only words of love to express her state of mind, and she works mightily to make those words the best, placed in the best order with as much emphasis as she can garner.
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