Linda's Literary Home

Tag: metaphor

  • Phillis Wheatley’s “A Hymn to the Evening”

    Image: Phillis Wheatley:  Engraving, reproduced from her book, “Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral.” London, 1773.  New York Public Library

    Phillis Wheatley’s “A Hymn to the Evening”

    The speaker in Phillis Wheatley’s “A Hymn to the Evening” offers her spiritually motivated song/prayer as a tribute  to evening, the part of the day when nightly slumber is arriving in all its glory.

    Introduction and Text of “A Hymn to the Evening”

    The speaker in Phillis Wheatley’s “A Hymn to the Evening” is delighting in the beauty surrounding her.  She is especially cognizant of how all events seem to be accruing for the purpose of making a beautiful day to close with a delightful, colorful evening. 

    The speaker finds the evening sky glorious as it yield the “deepest red” hue, as all other various colors are also displaying across the sky.  She also observes the scenery around her on earth; she takes measure of streams and especially the songs of birds.  She demonstrates her love and admiration for the creation that the Divine Creator has bestowed on all of His children.

    The poem consists of nine riming couplets, with the first couplet featuring an internal rime as well as an end rime.  The second couplet features the rare poetic device, similar to personification, of metaphorically comparing a gentle wind to a bird.  The couplet-formed verse lends to the high tone with which the poet has flavored her hymn.

    By labeling her poem a hymn, the poet has elevated its purpose from a simple tribute to a time of day, to a supplication for gratitude.  As she has observed much beauty about her and is thankful for the opportunity to engage that loveliness, she wishes that same gratitude for all of humankind.  

    The speaker is also offering her song as she is praying that the simple act of appreciating one’s environment may uplift and keep humankind on a virtuous path, on which avoidance of all that cause harm and corruption may be avoided.

    A Hymn to the Evening

    Soon as the sun forsook the eastern main
    The pealing thunder shook the heav’nly plain;
    Majestic grandeur! From the zephyr’s wing,
    Exhales the incense of the blooming spring.
    Soft purl the streams, the birds renew their notes,
    And through the air their mingled music floats.
    Through all the heav’ns what beauteous dies are spread!
    But the west glories in the deepest red:
    So may our breasts with ev’ry virtue glow,
    The living temples of our God below!
    Fill’d with the praise of him who gives the light,
    And draws the sable curtains of the night,
    Let placid slumbers sooth each weary mind,
    At morn to wake more heav’nly, more refin’d;
    So shall the labours of the day begin
    More pure, more guarded from the snares of sin.
    Night’s leaden sceptre seals my drowsy eyes,
    Then cease, my song, till fair Aurora rise.  

    Commentary on “A Hymn to the Evening”

    The speaker is inspired by the beauty of the day’s events that she has been observing both in the sky and on the land around her, as the end of the day is arriving.  She turns her simple awareness into a tribute and supplication for all humankind’s spiritual betterment.

    First Movement:  Opening of Day

    Soon as the sun forsook the eastern main
    The pealing thunder shook the heav’nly plain;
    Majestic grandeur! From the zephyr’s wing,
    Exhales the incense of the blooming spring.

    The speaker opens her tribute by describing how the day had begun with a thunder storm as soon as morning had ended.  She finds the event an example of “[m]ajestic grandeur.” On a soft gentle breeze, the fragrance of spring’s flowers came wafting.

    The inspired speaker then has the sun “forsaking” its domain in the east.  After having arisen, the big star does does not wait but keeps traveling across the sky, literally, forsaking all it leaves behind.  By beginning with the opening of the day, the speaker then gathers images throughout the day that accumulate to a marvelous evening at the close of that day.

    The speaker describes the thunder as “pealing” and that it colorfully caused to tremble the area around it. The thunder strikes the speaker as a grand event, one fitting to collect as evidence that a glorious evening may be in the offing.

    The first couplet includes an internal rime, as well as and end rime: “forsook – shook.”  Also, interestingly, the poet has employed avianification (akin to the device, “personification”) by metaphorically giving a gentle breeze a “wing,” a feature belonging to a bird.

    Second Movement:   The Colors of Beauty

    Soft purl the streams, the birds renew their notes,
    And through the air their mingled music floats.
    Through all the heav’ns what beauteous dies are spread!
    But the west glories in the deepest red:

    The speaker then notes that the streams are babbling gently and birds are continuing to offer their songs to the atmosphere.  The birds’ music seems to blend with other features of the landscape as their singular notes continue to waft on the breeze.  

    She has the stream purling, instead of merely babbling; this speaker is colorfully describing each natural object for the purpose of incorporating them into her collection of images, which she will offer to the day’s end.

    The speaker then remarks that through the sky swirl many various colors that she deems to be “beauteous,” as they stretch across the blue expanse.  However, she finds those hues that appear in “the west” to be the “deepest red,” and she implies that the oncoming sunset will cap the day in a marvelous and glorious procession.

    The speaker finds unusual as well as deeply spiritual ways of describing what she sees.   She is offering her words, her images, and her thoughts to her Divine Creator. Thus, she remains careful to choose each image and description with precision, for example, the west does not merely feature “deepest red,”  but it also “glories” in that color.  Making each word and each image work its magic demonstrates the poet’s skill and mastery of her art.

    Third Movement:  A Supplication for Gratitude

    So may our breasts with ev’ry virtue glow,
    The living temples of our God below!
    Fill’d with the praise of him who gives the light,
    And draws the sable curtains of the night,

    The speaker then turns to the hearts and minds of humanity, prayerfully supplicating for those hearts and minds to “glow,” filled with “ev’ry virtue.”  She hopes that the lives of all humankind become and remain “temples” on earth dedicated to the Belovèd Creator.  She includes all of humanity in her supplication as she effuses, “may our breasts” glow as living temples.

    The speaker wishes that all of humanity become full of praise for the Blessèd Creator of the cosmos; that Creator, Who had given “the light” also will close the “curtains of the night”: again the speaker has shown her marvelous skill by describing those “curtains” as “sable.”

    The speaker then prays that all of humanity may sleep peacefully and become refreshed so that the next day’s existence becomes “more heav’nly, more refin’d.”  She hopes and prays that each day will find humanity to be living more and more on a grand scale of plain living and high thinking.  As she includes herself in her prayer, she demonstrates her humility and deep inner awareness of the needs of all humankind.

    Fourth Movement:  Prayer for Virtuous Living

    Let placid slumbers sooth each weary mind,
    At morn to wake more heav’nly, more refin’d;
    So shall the labours of the day begin
    More pure, more guarded from the snares of sin.
    Night’s leaden sceptre seals my drowsy eyes,
    Then cease, my song, till fair Aurora rise.  

    After a night’s peaceful, invigorating rest of the body and mind, each child of the Divine Creator may begin his/her work, chastened and strengthened by the gratitude of finding a safe harbor in the Blessèd Lord.  

    The speaker prays that all be turned from “the snares of sin.”  Again, the speaker is demonstrating her ethical and moral strength as she wishes for all of humankind the same rectitude she desires for herself.

    The speaker then closes her song of praise for the Belovèd Creator’s beauty in creation by colorfully comparing the closing of her own sleepy eyes—her “drowsy eyes”—to being touched by a royal, magical wand.  

    She then bids her hymn end and allow her the sleep she now needs; thus, she prays for herself a soothing slumber until morning, when the Roman goddess, “Aurora,” brings in a new day with dawn.

  • Robert Frost’s “Bereft”

    Image: Robert Frost – Library of America

    Robert Frost’s “Bereft”

    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.