Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 36 “When we met first and loved, I did not build”
In sonnet 36 “When we met first and loved,” the speaker reveals her inability to fully accept the love relationship that is growing with her belovèd suitor. She is constantly trying to prevent her heart from being broken, in case the relationship fails to reach it full potential.
Introduction and Text of Sonnet 36 “When we met first and loved, I did not build”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet 36 “When we met first and loved, I did not build” from Sonnets from the Portuguese reveals the speaker’s apprehension that the first moments of a new love might prove to be illusive; thus, she refuses to believe unwaveringly in the possibility that love had arrived.
This speaker always remains aware that she must protect her heart from disaster. And at this point in their relationship, she knows that she could suffer a terrible broken heart if the relationship fails to flourish.
Sonnet 36 “When we met first and loved, I did not build”
When we met first and loved, I did not build Upon the event with marble. Could it mean To last, a love set pendulous between Sorrow and sorrow? Nay, I rather thrilled, Distrusting every light that seemed to gild The onward path, and feared to overlean A finger even. And, though I have grown serene And strong since then, I think that God has willed A still renewable fear … O love, O troth … Lest these enclaspèd hands should never hold, This mutual kiss drop down between us both As an unowned thing, once the lips being cold. And Love, be false! if he, to keep one oath, Must lose one joy, by his life’s star foretold.
Commentary on Sonnet 36 “When we met first and loved, I did not build”
The speaker again is demonstrating her inability to fully accept the love relationship that is growing with her belovèd suitor. The speaker must protect her poor heart, which could so easily be shattered if the love relationship should end.
First Quatrain: Love between Sorrow
When we met first and loved, I did not build Upon the event with marble. Could it mean To last, a love set pendulous between Sorrow and sorrow? Nay, I rather thrilled,
The speaker says that when she and her belovèd first met and love began to flower, she did not readily accept that the feelings were genuine; she refused to imagine that such a relationship could become solid. She must continue to guard her heart by holding in abeyance only the possibility of a lasting love relationship.
She questions whether love could endure for her because of the many sorrows she has experienced. She, instead, continued to think of only the potential of love, existing between one sorrow after the next sorrow. She felt more confident that sorrow would remain in the offing than that love would come to rescue her out of her melancholy.
The reader is by now quite familiar with the sadness, pain, and grief this speaker has suffered in her life and that she continues to suffer these maladies. For this melancholy speaker to accept the balm of love remains very difficult. Her doubts and fears continue to remain more real to her than these new, most cherished feelings of love and affection.
Second Quatrain: Continuing Fear
Distrusting every light that seemed to gild The onward path, and feared to overlean A finger even. And, though I have grown serene And strong since then, I think that God has willed
Answering her own question in the negative, the speaker asserts that she preferred to remain skeptical of the hints that seemed to suggest a progression toward the loving relationship.
The speaker’s fears continue to prompt her to hold back her heart because she continued to remains afraid that if she gave way at even a “finger[’s]” length, she would regret the loss so much that she would suffer even more than she already had done.
Quite uncharacteristically, the speaker admits that since that early time at the very beginning of this love relationship, she has, indeed, “grown serene / And strong.” Such an admission is difficult for the personality of this troubled speaker, but she does remain aware that she must somehow come to terms with her evolving growth.
First Tercet: Skepticism for Protection
A still renewable fear … O love, O troth … Lest these enclaspèd hands should never hold, This mutual kiss drop down between us both
Still, even though this wary speaker is cognizant of her growth in terms of serenity and strength, she believes that God has instilled in her the ability to remain somewhat skeptical in order to protect herself from certain torture at having been wrong about the relationship.
This speaker knows that if, “these enclaspèd hands should never hold,” she would be devastated if she had not protected her heart by retaining those doubts. If the “mutual kiss” should “drop between us both,” this ever-thinking speaker is sure her life would be filled with even more grief and sorrow.
Second Tercet: Wrenching Feeling
As an unowned thing, once the lips being cold. And Love, be false! if he, to keep one oath, Must lose one joy, by his life’s star foretold.
The speaker then spreads across the border of the tercets the wrenching feeling that her words are causing her. This melancholy speaker feels that she must give utterance to these thoughts, but she knows that they will cause pain, even to her belovèd. But if, “Love, be false,” then she simply must acknowledge that possibility for both their sakes.
The speaker anticipates the likelihood that she might have to “lose one joy” which may already be written in her stars, and not knowing which joy that might be, she must remain watchful that it might be the very love she is striving so mightily to protect.
Literary studies is the academic discipline devoted to the analysis, interpretation, evaluation, and contextualization of literature; it also includes the generalized act of commentary on literary works.
Literary studies examines written works—from poetry, fiction, and drama to essays and emerging digital forms—not simply as artistic objects but as cultural, historical, philosophical, linguistic, and aesthetic expressions. At its core, literary studies asks:
What do texts mean?
How do they work?
Why do they matter?
The field draws from a range of approaches, including philology, historical scholarship, theory, philosophy, linguistics, theology, and cultural analysis. Each special focus from analysis to commentary engages its own experts who employ each of these fields in unique combinations of endeavor.
For example, the analyst may emphasize historical scholarship in explicating a poem, while the commentarian will dip into any number of those approaches in order to elucidate meaning from informed personal experience.
At the core of the literary field is human experience. From humankind’s first finding itself in world of pairs of opposites that operate sometimes for good and sometimes for ill, the mind of mankind has grappled with the very meaning of existence. Literature provides a written record of that grappling.
That record makes it so that humanity need not learn all over again and again everything required for living a well-seasoned and reasonably comfortable, prosperous life. Human beings can read about many more experiences than they can ever actually experience.
And while personal experience is always central to one’s psyche, it serves as a bedrock for understanding those contemporaries living in the immediate environment and those ancestors who lived in the past.
Literature and literary studies offer a treasure trove of material keeping the mind and heart balanced and harmonious as each human being travels a unique path to spiritual understanding and ultimate awakening to soul-reality—the final stage in understanding and uniting the soul with the Creator of creation (God).
Historical Development
1. Origins in Antiquity
The roots of literary studies reach back to ancient civilizations.
Greece: Thinkers such as Plato and Aristotle explored poetry’s moral and aesthetic value, laying foundational concepts in mimesis, genre, and rhetoric.
Rome: Critics such as Horace, Longinus, and Quintilian systematized literary technique and rhetorical education.
These early traditions treated literature as part of a wider program of moral, civic, and rhetorical training.
2. Medieval and Renaissance Scholarship
During the Middle Ages, literature was primarily studied through the lens of theology and classical rhetoric. With the Renaissance, renewed attention to classical texts and humanism broadened interpretation, emphasizing:
textual editing
authorial biography
moral philosophy
artistic imitation and originality
Figures such as Petrarch, Erasmus, and later Sir Philip Sidney were important for literary criticism as an intellectual discipline.
3. Philology and the Birth of Modern Literary Studies (18th–19th
Centuries)
The modern university model grew out of European philology—systematic study of languages, manuscripts, and textual origins. Key figures included:
Friedrich August Wolf, who formalized classical philology
Wilhelm Dilthey, who argued for the humanities as a distinct form of knowledge
The Grimm brothers, whose linguistic scholarship shaped historical study of culture
In Britain and the United States, literary study emerged gradually as its own discipline, often housed in departments of English language and rhetoric.
4. The Rise of Criticism and Theory (20th Century)
The 20th century saw a dramatic diversification of methodologies, often called literary theory. Important movements and contributors include:
New Criticism (T. S. Eliot, Cleanth Brooks, I. A. Richards): close reading, textual autonomy
Feminist and gender studies (Woolf, Gilbert & Gubar, Butler)
Postcolonial studies (Said, Spivak, Bhabha)
Reader-response theories (Iser, Fish)
This pluralism made literary studies one of the most interdisciplinary fields in the humanities.
5. Literary Studies in the 21st Century
The field continues to evolve with:
digital humanities (text mining, digital archives, computational analysis)
environmental humanities (ecocriticism)
narrative medicine
world literature studies
renewed interest in classical rhetoric and formal aesthetics
Today, literary studies includes both traditional close reading and technologically advanced methodologies.
Internal Tensions and Contemporary Challenges in Literary Studies
Despite its intellectual richness and adaptability, literary studies has faced sustained internal tensions and external pressures, particularly since the late twentieth century. Acknowledging these challenges is essential for an honest account of the discipline’s current condition.
1. Debates over Theory and Method
One of the most persistent internal debates concerns the role and dominance of literary theory. While theory expanded the field’s conceptual reach and interdisciplinary influence, critics have argued that its institutionalization sometimes displaced close reading, historical knowledge, and aesthetic judgment.
This tension has produced ongoing disagreements between theoretically driven approaches and those advocating a return to formal analysis, philology, rhetoric, or historically grounded criticism. The result has been both fragmentation and productive pluralism.
2. Institutional Pressures and Decline
Literary studies has also experienced institutional contraction, particularly in Anglophone universities. Declining enrollments, reduced funding, and departmental closures have forced the field to defend its place within increasingly market-driven educational systems.
These pressures have reshaped curricula, hiring priorities, and research agendas, often privileging demonstrable “impact” over long-term scholarly depth.
3. Economic Justification of the Humanities
A related challenge is the growing demand to justify literary studies in economic or utilitarian terms. Arguments emphasizing transferable skills—critical thinking, communication, adaptability—have helped defend the discipline, but they risk narrowing its intellectual and cultural aims.
Many scholars contend that literature’s value cannot be fully captured by metrics of employability, insisting instead on its role in ethical reflection, cultural memory, and imaginative freedom.
4. Public Relevance and Authority
Literary studies has also confronted questions about its public authority. As cultural commentary has migrated to digital platforms and popular media, academic criticism has sometimes appeared insular or inaccessible.
In response, there has been renewed interest in public humanities, essayistic criticism, and teaching-oriented scholarship that reconnects academic work with broader audiences.
5. Renewal through Self-Critique
These tensions have not merely weakened the discipline; they have also prompted self-examination and renewal. Contemporary literary studies increasingly combines theoretical sophistication with historical depth, formal attentiveness, and ethical seriousness. The field’s willingness to critique its own assumptions remains one of its defining strengths.
By recognizing these internal debates and structural challenges, literary studies presents itself not as a settled or complacent discipline, but as one engaged in ongoing reflection about its methods, purposes, and responsibilities in a changing cultural and institutional landscape.
Purpose of Literary Studies
Interpretation and Meaning
The primary purpose of literary studies is to interpret texts richly and responsibly, explaining how literature creates meaning through form, language, imagery, voice, and structure.
2. Preservation of Cultural Heritage
Through editing, archiving, and historical scholarship, literary studies preserves important works and makes them accessible to future generations.
3. Critical and Ethical Inquiry
Literature is a testing ground for human experience. Studying literature helps individuals:
examine moral and philosophical questions
understand diverse viewpoints
confront social issues
explore the imagination’s power
4. Training in Analytical and Communicative Skills
Literary discipline develops skills essential across professions:
close attention to detail
critical thinking
persuasive writing
interpretive reasoning
cultural literacy
5. Exploration of Aesthetics
Literary studies also seeks to understand the pleasures and structures of artistry—why poetry moves us, how narrative creates suspense, how style functions, and what beauty means in language.
Importance of Literary Studies
Cultural Understanding and Memory
Literature is a record of humanity’s inner life. Studying it helps societies remember, reflect, and interpret their history, values, and aspirations.
2. Empathy and Human Connection
Reading literature strengthens the capacity to imagine the lives of others, fostering empathy and reducing cultural isolation.
3. Intellectual Freedom
Literary analysis encourages questioning, debate, and openness to multiple interpretations—essential qualities for democratic societies.
4. Preservation of Language
Through the study of style, genre, and linguistic change, literary studies enriches and preserves the expressive possibilities of language itself.
5. Influence Across Disciplines
The methods employed in literary studies inform philosophy, history, sociology, psychology, political theory, theology, and even medicine and law.
Place in Society
1. Education
Literary studies is central to curricula from primary schools to graduate programs. It cultivates literacy, imagination, ethical reflection, and intellectual maturity.
2. Cultural Institutions
Libraries, publishing houses, museums, and arts organizations rely on literary scholars for:
editing and curating texts
creating anthologies
interpreting archives
preserving rare works
3. Public Discourse
Literary critics influence cultural conversations through essays, reviews, public scholarship, and commentaries.
4. Media and the Arts
Film, theater, screenwriting, advertising, and media studies use literary analysis to shape storytelling, symbolism, and audience impact.
5. Humanities and Civic Life
As part of the broader humanities, literary studies sustains thoughtful civic engagement by nurturing critical reflection, historical awareness, and nuanced communication.
Cornerstone of the Humanities
Literary studies is a cornerstone of the humanities, offering tools to understand texts not only as artistic creations but as expressions of human thought, feeling, and cultural identity. Its long history—from ancient rhetoric to digital humanities—shows a discipline continuously reinventing itself to meet new forms of storytelling and new intellectual challenges.
By cultivating interpretation, empathy, cultural memory, and critical reasoning, literary studies plays a vital role in shaping educated citizens and sustaining a thoughtful, imaginative, and spiritually enlightened society.
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My Personal Engagement with Literary Studies
From my earliest love of music to my first unpleasant encounter with literary studies as a high school sophomore, it may seem rather odd that I did ever so engage.
Music: My First Love
It is true that my first love was music. I especially loved piano. As I was but a toddler, I watched and listened with awe as my Aunt Winnie played the piano during visits to my paternal grandparents home in Kentucky. Winnie was in her teens and played beautifully only by ear. So I fell in love with the piano, later thrilling to the TV performances of Liberace.
I also persuaded my parents to let me take piano lessons at our little four-room school house in Abington, Indiana, when I was in about the third grade around age 9. The music teacher, Mrs. Frame, came once a week and gave lessons to students, who were permitted the leave the classroom for about a half hour for the lessons.
Unfortunately, the school board decided after about three years into my lessons to ban Mrs. Frame from using out little school to give her lessons; she then continued them at her home. But we had to then travel to her home, and my dad was often too busy to take me to my lessons.
To relieve my dad of that chore, I stopped the lessons fairly soon after Mrs. Frame’s banishment. I have often wished I could have continued the lessons beyond the three years. But I have continued to keep a piano in my home and to play it from time to time.
Literature in High School
During my sophomore year in high school, Mrs. Edna Pickett was my English teacher. The first semester we studied grammar, and I was a straight A student in grammar.
On the first day’s meeting in Mrs. Pickett’s class, she asked the class to name the 8 parts of speech. No one offered to do it, so I raised my hand a spouted them off for her; she was impressed, and she remained impressed with my ability to handle English grammar.
Then second semester arrived. And instead of my beloved grammar, the focus was on general literature. We would read stories and poems in the literature text book—a big thick thing that I had no love for—and then discuss them.
Oddly, I had no yardstick for measuring the height, depth, and width of those works. It seemed that we were supposed to fathom something in the stories that I could not seem to fathom. The study seemed terribly vague and unwieldy, not like grammar, which had real answers and followed logical patterns.
To make matters worse, Mrs. Pickett required us to write book reports. If we did not write a book report, we could not get a A, regardless of our accumulated number.
I thought that book report requirement was unfair, and I refused to write one. True to her word, Mrs. Pickett marked me down to a B, even though my grad average was in the high 90s as usual, which under normal circumstances would have given me my usual A.
I’m not sure how I managed to get A’s on the literature tests, but somehow I did. And Mrs. Pickett said when she assigned the B that she was sad about it, also. That B really stung, and from then on, I went ahead and read books and reported on them.
After sophomore English came junior English which was focused on American literature, in addition to the grammar, of course. By then I had fallen in love the poetry and began to appreciate literature more. So my American literature focus caused me no real consternation.
However, I did not take British literature with Mrs. Pickett in my senior year; that year a course in creative writing was offered and it fulfilled the requirement for academic curricula specialty, so I enrolled in creative writing instead of senior English. I have often regretted not taking both the Brit lit and the creative writing. I could have done so because I had two study hall periods that year.
Curiously, it is also the oddity that I ended up taking British/Irish literature as the main concentration for my PhD studies, writing my dissertation of William Butler Yeats’ focus on Eastern philosophy and religion.
PhD in British Literature
So the next part of this story ends on a reversal that could not have been predicted. And it has some twists and turns. As I enjoyed grammar in early high school, I also enjoyed and was good at foreign language, beginning with Latin. The study of Latin even enhanced my aptitude for English grammar.
I took Latin my freshman year, then I took Spanish my sophomore year; my junior year I took Latin II and Spanish II and then took French my senior year (Mrs. Pickett taught the French class, and it was the first year French had been offered. She even spent the summer at the Sorbonne in Paris boning up on her French stills.)
So my interest become completely ensconced in foreign language, and I knew that in college I would major in foreign language—likely Spanish. But then my creative writing teacher, Mr. Malcolm Sedam, who was working on a masters degree in history, let me know that he needed to translate some works from German. He was writing his thesis on Johannes Erwin Eugen Rommel, known as The Desert Fox, a German Generalfeldmarschall during World War II.
I had begun to study German, Italian, and Brazilian Portuguese on my own. And I had been apprized of the similarities between German and English, and I decided that in college I would likely major in German.
So I made an attempt to translate some the text that Mr. Sedam needed. Of course, that was a total bust; I had only a smattering of German, not nearly enough to translate such material.
Nevertheless, I went ahead and began my German major at Ball State Teachers College which I entered summer quarter 1964. I had to wait until fall quarter to take my first course in German however.
I thoroughly enjoyed studying German at Ball State, transferred to Miami University after studying four quarters at BSU, graduated with a major in German from Miami in April 1967. I then taught German at Brookville, Indiana, for one year. I earned my MA in German from BSU in 1971 then taught 2 more years of German at Brookville.
By this time, I had discovered that a career teaching German was not for me; to do a truly efficient job of such teaching and engaging such scholarship, I would have to travel and study in Germany probably on a yearly basis—a venture that I did not relish.
Besides, I had begun writing and studying poetry written in English and became convinced that as a native speaker of English and dedicated literary studies enthusiast, a concentration in literature written in English was my best focus.
I began an MA in English at BSU in 1976 but did not finish it. Then with many pages of poems, essays, and other writings, especially songs, in 1983, I began anew with the MA in English at BSU, and by this time I had decided that I would earn my PhD in English at BSU. And that’s what I did—finishing the MA in 1984 and the PhD in November 1987.
From 1983, I taught in the BSU writing program as graduate assistant, (1983-1984), doctoral fellow (1984-1987), and assistant professor (1987-1999.) In the fall of 1987, I accepted an offer of a teaching job at a now-defunct college in Virginia, but the job was so much different from what the administration had described that I left and returned to BSU by winter quarter that same year.
Independent Literary Scholar
After leaving the BSU writing program in 1999, I have become an independent scholar, writing, researching, and posting my works online on various sites that accept such works.
An example of my online writing endeavor is that I spent almost ten years posting on the recently defunct HubPages, accumulating over a thousand essays on poetry commentaries, political and social issues—even a few recipes and songs—along with several of my original poems and short stories.
Currently, I curate my own literary website at Linda’s Literary Site. The site features my writings in poems, songs, essays, short stories, fables, recipes, and commentaries.
The financial gain is close to non-existent, whereas I was able to gain a pittance on HubPages, but the satisfaction is enormous with no editorial noise to interrupt by voice.
Useful or Not?
The twists and turns featured in this overview are offered primarily to give readers the opportunity to decide for themselves whether they find my offerings in literary studies of any value for their own perusal.
As mentioned earlier, where I ended up regarding the study of literature had an inauspicious beginning. But it nevertheless has ended with me dedicating my time and effort to my once adversarial subject of literary studies.
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 19 “The soul’s Rialto hath its merchandise”
The two lovers exchange locks of hair, and the speaker makes a ceremony of the exchange as she again emphasizes the royalty of her lover’s station and talent.
Introduction with Text of Sonnet 19 “The soul’s Rialto hath its merchandise”
In sonnet 18 “I never gave a lock of hair away” from Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnets from the Portuguese, the speaker dramatically celebrates giving a lock of her hair to her belovèd.
The little drama continues with sonnet 19 “The soul’s Rialto hath its merchandise,” as she receives a lock from him. The two lovers exchange their locks of hair, and the speaker dramatizes a ceremony of the exchange, as she again celebrates the royalty of her lover’s station and talent.
Sonnet 19 “The soul’s Rialto hath its merchandise”
The soul’s Rialto hath its merchandise; I barter curl for curl upon that mart, And from my poet’s forehead to my heart Receive this lock which outweighs argosies,— As purply black, as erst to Pindar’s eyes The dim purpureal tresses gloomed athwart The nine white Muse-brows. For this counterpart, The bay-crown’s shade, Belovèd, I surmise, Still lingers on thy curl, it is so black! Thus, with a fillet of smooth-kissing breath, I tie the shadows safe from gliding back, And lay the gift where nothing hindereth; Here on my heart, as on thy brow, to lack No natural heat till mine grows cold in death.
Commentary on Sonnet 19 “The soul’s Rialto hath its merchandise”
The two lovers exchange locks of hair, and the speaker makes a ceremony of the exchange as she again emphasizes the royalty of her lover’s station and talent.
First Quatrain: Oration and Commemoration
The soul’s Rialto hath its merchandise; I barter curl for curl upon that mart, And from my poet’s forehead to my heart Receive this lock which outweighs argosies,—
As in sonnet 18 “I never gave a lock of hair away,” the speaker offers a bit of an oration, commemorating the exchange of locks of hair between the two lovers. She metaphorically compares the soul to a marketplace, the Rialto, an important commercial district in Venice. The speaker employs a commercial metaphor because of the trading of items that the two lovers are engaging in.
The speaker then reveals that she is accepting the lock of hair from the head of her beloved with all the enthusiasm that an individual might express if she were presented with large loads of valuable cargoes from vast commercial sailing ships.
The speaker enhances the value of that lock of hair by stating that it weighs even more than “argosies.” It is even more valuable than all the cargo arriving in vast commercial vessels that travel the seas.
Second Quatrain: Purple Black
As purply black, as erst to Pindar’s eyes The dim purpureal tresses gloomed athwart The nine white Muse-brows. For this counterpart, The bay-crown’s shade, Belovèd, I surmise,
In the second quatrain, the speaker emphasizes the blackness of her lover’s lock. The “curl,” she claims, is so black that it is “purply black.” Again, she employs the color of royalty to distinguish the high station of her talented, handsome, accomplished lover.
The speaker alludes to the ancient Greek poet Pindar, who is considered the greatest of the nine most famous ancient Greek poets, whom she references as “the nine white Muse-brows.” The speaker’s lover’s lock is as significant because he is as important to the poetry world as those Greek poets are.
First Tercet: Pindar Allusion
Still lingers on thy curl, it is so black! Thus, with a fillet of smooth-kissing breath, I tie the shadows safe from gliding back,
The speaker voices her assumption that “the bay-crown’s shade, Beloved / / Still lingers on the curl.” The “bay-crown” refers to that most famous poet, Pindar, whose shadow-presence influences her lover’s talent through his “purpureal tresses.”
The speaker insists that because of the high value she places on that black lock of hair, she will keep the lock close to her heart to keep it warm. Likely, the speaker will place it in a locket, but she exaggerates her drama by saying she is binding it with her “smooth-kissing breath” and tying “the shadows safe from gliding back.”
Second Tercet: Ceremony of the Lock
And lay the gift where nothing hindereth; Here on my heart, as on thy brow, to lack No natural heat till mine grows cold in death.
In placing the lock next to her heart, the speaker is safe-guarding the “gift where nothing” can disturb it. Close to the speaker’s heart, the lock will “lack / No natural heat” until, of course, the speaker “grows cold in death.” The ceremony of the lock exchange is complete, and the love relationship will then progress to the next important stage.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 17 “My poet, thou canst touch on all the notes”
In sonnet 17 “My poet, thou canst touch on all the notes,” the poet’s always melancholy speaker muses on the art of poetics in her relationship with her poet/lover. She considers her role in his art and how they might in future employ imagination to continue to be creatively productive.
Introduction withText of Sonnet 17 “My poet, thou canst touch on all the notes”
In sonnet 17 from her classic work Sonnets from the Portuguese, Elizabeth Barrett Browning again allows her speaker to hint at melancholy as she continues her efforts to sustain and understand her new love relationship, and her always melancholy speaker is now musing on the poetics of her relationship with her poet/lover.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s speaker will continue to include a place for doubt as she journeys through her sequence of love songs to her belovèd. The speaker’s charm remains subtle while always tinged with the possibility of sorrow. Even as that former sadness in which she dwelt so heavily subsides, its specter seems forever to simmer just below the surface of consciousness.
Sonnet 17 “My poet, thou canst touch on all the notes”
My poet, thou canst touch on all the notes God set between his After and Before, And strike up and strike off the general roar Of the rushing worlds a melody that floats In a serene air purely. Antidotes Of medicated music, answering for Mankind’s forlornest uses, thou canst pour From thence into their ears. God’s will devotes Thine to such ends, and mine to wait on thine. How, Dearest, wilt thou have me for most use? A hope, to sing by gladly ? or a fine Sad memory, with thy songs to interfuse? A shade, in which to sing—of palm or pine? A grave, on which to rest from singing ? Choose.
Commentary on Sonnet 17 “My poet, thou canst touch on all the notes”
In sonnet 17 “My poet, thou canst touch on all the notes,” the poet’s always melancholy speaker muses on the poetics involved in her relationship with her poet/lover. A serious relationship between two poets would necessarily involve the creation of poetry and its ability to bind the lovers in certain literary ways.
First Quatrain: Praise for Poetic Prowess
My poet, thou canst touch on all the notes God set between his After and Before, And strike up and strike off the general roar Of the rushing worlds a melody that floats
The speaker in Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet 17 “My poet, thou canst touch on all the notes” from Sonnets from the Portuguese addresses her belovèd, asserting that he
has ability to range far and wide in broaching the music that plays between the two artist/lovers. She is quietly suggesting that God is bringing the two together through whisper of love that has played in their souls from the time before they even met.
The speaker’s high praise for her lover’s poetic prowess demonstrates a shift in her observation from her own lowly station to his art. Because the speaker herself is a poet, she has, no doubt, known that she must eventually address the issue that both she and her belovèd share the same avocation. It might well be expected that she will elevate his while remaining humble about her own, and that expectation is fulfilled in this poetic offering.
The speaker credits her belovèd with the ability to create worlds that make the ineffable mystery understandable to the ordinary consciousness; he is able to herald celestial music that contends with the creation of whole worlds of emotion. The “rushing worlds” may seek to drown love in its massive sound, but her poet/lover’s ability to tame those sound renders the cacophony into melodies that are easily accepts.
Second Quatrain: Curing Boredom
In a serene air purely. Antidotes Of medicated music, answering for Mankind’s forlornest uses, thou canst pour From thence into their ears. God’s will devotes
The melody glides easily through an atmosphere made pure and serene by the unique ability of her poet/love to convert all chaos into peace, as well as all sadness into contentedness. Mankind will find his dramatization “medicated music,” which will cure the boredom of “mankind’s forlornest uses.” Her belovèd retains the unique marvelous, unique talent to spill his melodic strains “into their ears.”
First Tercet: A Drama Sanctioned by the Divine
Thine to such ends, and mine to wait on thine. How, Dearest, wilt thou have me for most use? A hope, to sing by gladly ? or a fine
The speaker asserts that her greatly talented lover’s drama is, indeed, sanctioned by the Divine, and she is motivated as she patiently expects his creations to flaunt their magic and music to her as well.
The speaker puts a complicated question to her belovèd: “How, Dearest, wilt thou have me for most use?” In that the speaker would perfectly fulfill her position as muse, she makes clear that she will be right alongside him in his every effort to sustain his God-given abilities. Regardless of the theme or subject, whether it be “a hope, to sing by gladly,” the speaker suggests that she will continue to praise where necessity takes her.
Second Tercet: Useful Powers of Sorrow
Sad memory, with thy songs to interfuse? A shade, in which to sing–of palm or pine? A grave, on which to rest from singing ? Choose.
This speaker is not yet ready to relinquish her references to melancholy; thus her question continues with a set of propositions: perhaps she will offer “a fine / Sad memory.” She will, therefore, not be surprised that her powers of sorrow may be useful to them both in their poetic pursuits. But the speaker also wonders if death themes might intrude at some point: “A shade, in which to sing—of palm or pine? / A grave, on which to rest from singing?”
It just may be that they will both become so satisfied with their comfortable love that they will have to rely more on imagination than they had ever thought. Thus the speaker admonishes her poetically talented belovèd that at some poi
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 16 “And yet, because thou overcomest so”
The speaker in Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet 16 “And yet, because thou overcomest so”finally capitulates to the all consuming love that she has tried to deny herself, allowing herself only a speck of doubt.
Introduction with Text of Sonnet 16 “And yet, because thou overcomest so”
The speaker in Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet 16 from Sonnets from the Portuguese is dramatizing her nearly concluded acceptance of the love from her “noble” king-like suitor. She establishes a colorful metaphor of royalty to express her new-found emotions.
Sonnet 16 “And yet, because thou overcomest so”
And yet, because thou overcomest so, Because thou art more noble and like a king, Thou canst prevail against my fears and fling Thy purple round me, till my heart shall grow Too close against thine heart henceforth to know How it shook when alone. Why, conquering May prove as lordly and complete a thing In lifting upward, as in crushing low! And as a vanquished soldier yields his sword To one who lifts him from the bloody earth, Even so, Belovèd, I at last record, Here ends my strife. If thou invite me forth, I rise above abasement at the word. Make thy love larger to enlarge my worth.
Commentary on Sonnet 16 “And yet, because thou overcomest so”
The speaker can finally be seen as capitulating to the all consuming love that she has tried to deny herself, allowing herself only a speck of doubt.
First Quatrain: Overcoming Fears and Doubts
And yet, because thou overcomest so, Because thou art more noble and like a king, Thou canst prevail against my fears and fling Thy purple round me, till my heart shall grow
The speaker, picking up from prior adversity, can now give in to her belovèd’s advances because he has, at last, been able to overcome her fears and doubts. She again likens him to royalty. She labels him “noble” and he is able to rule her heart as king would rule his subjects.
Her royal suitor is banishing her fears as he places his protective shield “purple” around her life. All of his noble, royalty-like actions and behaviors all her heart to grow fond of him and life that he has is now so gently guiding.
Her lover has the kingly powers of protecting even a doubtful heart such as her own. He can place his royal purple cape around her shoulders and affect the very beating of her heart.
Second Quatrain: A Fearful Heart
Too close against thine heart henceforth to know How it shook when alone. Why, conquering May prove as lordly and complete a thing In lifting upward, as in crushing low!
As her heart beats close to his, the speaker finds it difficult to grasp that it once felt so afraid of life and living when it found itself solitary and isolated. She has discovered that she can, in fact, imagine herself lifted from her self-imposed prison of melancholy. The speaker can succumb to upward mobility as readily as she did to the downward spiral, “as in crushing low!”
First Tercet: A Bizarre Comparison
And as a vanquished soldier yields his sword To one who lifts him from the bloody earth, Even so, Belovèd, I at last record,
The speaker then dramatically and bizarrely compares her situation metaphorically to a “soldier” who surrenders in battle to “one who lifts him from the bloody earth.” The enemy becomes nurturing once his foe has been vanquished. But for her, the battle was very real, and thus the metaphor remains quite apt. Thus she can finally and completely surrender.
Second Tercet: Reserving a Space to Doubt
Here ends my strife. If thou invite me forth, I rise above abasement at the word. Make thy love larger to enlarge my worth.
The speaker’s handing over of weapons and defensive mechanisms is accompanied by her revelation that her sorrowful struggles are ending. She is on the verge of a major change of attitude from sadness to happiness, if she has the courage of accept that transformation.
True to character, however, she must at least reserve some bit of possible future failure by stating her declaration in a conditional clause, “if thou invite me forth.” She emphasizes “thou,” to make it clear that her belovèd is the only one to whom she could ever say these things.
The speaker has quite likely almost one hundred per cent become convinced that he has invited her, but she still feels that she has to keep any downturn in her sights. But if he does, in fact, keep that invitation open for her, she will be able to transcend her pain and rise above all the sorrow that has kept her abased for so many years.
Once again, the speaker is giving him a great deal of power as she suggests that as her new attitude will “make thy love larger,” it will also “enlarge my worth.” Thus loving him will increase her own value, not in large part because, in her eyes, his value is as large as a king’s worth. His royalty will become hers.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 14 “If thou must love me, let it be for nought”
In sonnet 14, Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s speaker is insisting that her suitor love her only for the sake of love, not for her physical qualities such as her smiling lips or the soft manner in which she speaks.
Introduction with Text of Sonnet 14 “If thou must love me, let it be for nought”
The speaker in this sonnet from Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s classic Sonnets from the Portuguese is now graciously receiving her suitor’s affection. Nevertheless, she also feels it necessary to make him aware that she expects that their budding relationship should not only continue to grow but should become permanent. She therefore delineates the nature of the love she anticipates that the two will share.
Sonnet 14 “If thou must love me, let it be for nought”
If thou must love me, let it be for nought Except for love’s sake only. Do not say “I love her for her smile—her look—her way Of speaking gently,—for a trick of thought That falls in well with mine, and certes brought A sense of pleasant ease on such a day”— For these things in themselves, Belovèd, may Be changed, or change for thee,—and love, so wrought, May be unwrought so. Neither love me for Thine own dear pity’s wiping my cheeks dry,— A creature might forget to weep, who bore Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby! But love me for love’s sake, that evermore Thou mayst love on, through love’s eternity.
Commentary on Sonnet 14 “If thou must love me, let it be for nought”
The speaker insists that her beloved offer her affection only based on love and not for any physical qualities that she demonstrates, including the way she smiles or the manner in which she speaks.
First Quatrain: Continuing to Remain Somewhat Tentative
If thou must love me, let it be for nought Except for love’s sake only. Do not say “I love her for her smile—her look—her way Of speaking gently,—for a trick of thought
The speaker’s tentativeness continues, even though she seems to be contemplating the much desired joy of such a love relationship. Her continued procrastination remains as a shield for her heart, in case the relationship ends. She is signaling the likelihood of her acceptance by affirming, “If thou must love me,” but not with the oft-touted insulting phrase, if-you-really-love-me.
The uncomplicated, single term “must” declares that a change is in the offing. It demonstrates that she now realizes the true nature of this man’s love, although she cannot bring herself to have total faith that some feature in her nature could never assert itself and thus spoil such a love that seems to be so true.
The speaker is requesting pragmatically that he love her for love alone, and not because of the physical, therefore superficial, qualities that too often attract lovers. She does not desire that her lover to be in love merely with the physical qualities she possesses such as her smile and speaking manner.
Second Quatrain: Contempt for the Superficial
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought A sense of pleasant ease on such a day”— For these things in themselves, Belovèd, may Be changed, or change for thee,—and love, so wrought,
The speaker then is unveiling her reason for being dismayed by superficial kinds of attention that often engages lovers. Those qualities too often prove to be “a trick of thought.” Suppose that her smile be pleasant to him one day but not so much the next day. If he were fixed upon such a smile, she fears his feeling for her would diminish.
The speaker does not wish that her partner’s love to be guided only by mood. She suspects that if she offers him a pleasant glance but later offers a melancholy sorrow his love for her may become negatively affected.
Also, her speech to him may from time to time vary and not always offer him the same level of delight. She knows she will not always be able to engage in conversation that is brimming only with joyful pleasantries.
The speaker comprehends well that love based on change cannot maintain a lasting, steadfast love relationship. Thus she is letting him know that she is aware that the physical is very likely to change, but true love should not change; love should remain constant. She wants to let him know that she can only engage in an unconditional love that is founded on unchanging affection.
First Tercet: Accepting No Pity
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for Thine own dear pity’s wiping my cheeks dry,— A creature might forget to weep, who bore
The speaker is offering an additional demand that he not love her with pity in his heart. She has often explored the reaches of the melancholy that has caused her to shed tears often and for long periods of time. And if his love were tainted with pity and sympathy for her sorrowful lot, what would occur with that pity, were she to “forget to weep”?
She reasons that if or when she likely becomes a happily, contented woman, her beloved would then have one less reason to continue to love her, if he had allowed his love for her to include the negativity of pity and sympathy.
Second Tercet: Love for Love’s Sake Alone
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby! But love me for love’s sake, that evermore Thou mayst love on, through love’s eternity.
The speaker deems it very important to make her paramour aware that she wants to be loved for no reason other than that she exists. If she is loved because of physical features, or because of the fact that she has deeply suffered and somehow now deserves to be content, true, lasting love could never continue to remain.
Therefore, if her beloved will love her as she requests and just love her for “love’s sake,” she is convinced that their love will exist “through love’s eternity.” She has weighed the calamity of false starts, and she makes it clear that she wishes to avoid the pain of a failed relationship.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 13 “And wilt thou have me fashion into speech“
The speaker in sonnet 13 muses on the idea of composing a verse about her newly found emotion but hesitates for fear of touching the grief she suffers.
Introduction with Text of Sonnet 13 “And wilt thou have me fashion into speech”
In Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet 13 from Sonnets from the Portuguese, the speaker attempts to respond to her suitor’s encouragement to transcribe her feelings for him in a poem, but she does not yet believe she is ready to plumb the depths of her feelings.
Sonnet 13 “And wilt thou have me fashion into speech”
And wilt thou have me fashion into speech The love I bear thee, finding words enough, And hold the torch out, while the winds are rough, Between our faces, to cast light on each? I drop it at thy feet. I cannot teach My hand to hold my spirit so far off From myself—me—that I should bring thee proof In words, of love hid in me out of reach. Nay, let the silence of my womanhood Commend my woman-love to thy belief,— Seeing that I stand unwon, however wooed, And rend the garment of my life, in brief, By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude, Lest one touch of this heart convey its grief.
Commentary on Sonnet 13 “And wilt thou have me fashion into speech”
The speaker in sonnet 13 muses on the idea of composing a verse about her newly found emotion of love, but she hesitates for she fears touching the grief that still confronts her.
First Quatrain: Should She Express Her Love?
And wilt thou have me fashion into speech The love I bear thee, finding words enough, And hold the torch out, while the winds are rough, Between our faces, to cast light on each?
The speaker beseeches her beloved wondering if she should “fashion into speech” how she feels about him. She feels that she may not yet be ready to express verbally the feelings that are beginning to move her. Undoubtedly, she believes that outward verbal expression may hamper her unique emotions.
If she translated her feelings into words, she fears they would behave as a “torch” and would “cast light on each” of their faces. However, that would happen only if the wind did not blow out their fire.
She believes she must protect her increasing emotion from all outside forces; therefore, she opens with a question. She cannot be certain that remaining silent is any longer the proper way to behave.
Second Quatrain: Unsteadied by Emotion
I drop it at thy feet. I cannot teach My hand to hold my spirit so far off From myself—me—that I should bring thee proof In words, of love hid in me out of reach.
The speaker then dramatically asserts that she, “drop[s] at [his] feet”; she does this because she cannot remain steady in his presence, as she is overcome with emotion. She becomes so agitated with the notion of love, and she cannot calm down in order to write what might be coherent about her intense feelings.
The sonnet suggests that her beloved has asked the poet/speaker for a poem about her feelings for him; however, she believes that her love is so profoundly heartfelt that she may not be able to shapes its significance in words.
The speaker feels that she cannot perceive the appropriate images for they are, “hid in me out of reach.” She feels that she must wait for a time when she has found enough tranquility to be able to “fashion into speech” the complex, deep feelings she is experiencing because of her love for this man.
First Tercet: Remaining Self-Aware
Nay, let the silence of my womanhood Commend my woman-love to thy belief,— Seeing that I stand unwon, however wooed,
The speaker concludes therefore that “the silence of [her] womanhood” will have to function to persuade him that she does possess those deep feeling of love for him. She confesses that she has remained a bit distant from her beloved, when she says she is “unwon.”
Although he has “wooed” her, she feels that she must keep a portion of her self out of sight for very deeply personal reasons. She must make sure she stays present and connected in her own self.
Second Tercet: Dramatizing the Depth of Pain
And rend the garment of my life, in brief, By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude, Lest one touch of this heart convey its grief.
The sonnet sequence has dramatized the depth of the pain and melancholy the speaker has endured her entire life-long. She is still suffering that same pain and sadness. She thus again reveals that if she too soon tries to place her feeling into a poem, she would perhaps only “convey [her heart’s] grief.”
The speaker remains fearful of the notion that “a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude” could impede the power with which she is being propelled toward completely accepting the current relationship with her new-found belovèd.
Langston Hughes’ “Theme for English B” dramatizes the brainstorming session of a speaker who is a non-traditional college student. He has been given the assignment to write a paper about himself that is true. He muses on how to go about producing a page that the instructor will understand.
Note on Usage: “Negro,” “Colored,” and “Black”: Before the late 1980s in the United States, the terms “Negro,” “colored,” and “black” were accepted widely in American English parlance. While the term “Negro” had started to lose its popularity in the 1960s, it wasn’t until 1988 that the Reverend Jesse Jackson began insisting that Americans adopt the phrase “African American.” The earlier, more accurate terms were the custom at the time that Langston Hughes was writing.
Introduction with Text of “Theme for English B”
The speaker is a non-traditional, older student in a college English class who has been given the assignment to write a paper that “come[s] out of you.” The instructor has insisted that the paper will be “true” if the student simply writes from his own heart, mind, and experience, but the speaker remains a bit skeptical of that claim, thinking that maybe he is unsure that it is “that simple.
Theme for English B
The instructor said,
Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you— Then, it will be true.
I wonder if it’s that simple? I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem. I went to school there, then Durham, then here to this college on the hill above Harlem. I am the only colored student in my class. The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem, through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas, Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y, the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator up to my room, sit down, and write this page:
It’s not easy to know what is true for you or me at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I’m what I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you: hear you, hear me—we two—you, me, talk on this page. (I hear New York, too.) Me—who? Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love. I like to work, read, learn, and understand life. I like a pipe for a Christmas present, or records—Bessie, bop, or Bach. I guess being colored doesn’t make me not like the same things other folks like who are other races. So will my page be colored that I write?
Being me, it will not be white. But it will be a part of you, instructor. You are white— yet a part of me, as I am a part of you. That’s American. Sometimes perhaps you don’t want to be a part of me. Nor do I often want to be a part of you. But we are, that’s true! As I learn from you, I guess you learn from me— although you’re older—and white— and somewhat more free.
This is my page for English B.
Reading of “Theme for English B”
Commentary on “Theme for English B”
In Langston Hughes’ “Theme for English B,” the speaker is musing on how to write a college essay about himself, after receiving the instructor’s assignment in his English class. The issue of race intrudes on the speaker’s thoughts, and he offers his experienced observation about the supposed differences between the races.
First Movement: Not a Simple Assignment
The instructor said,
Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you— Then, it will be true.
I wonder if it’s that simple? I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem. I went to school there, then Durham, then here to this college on the hill above Harlem. I am the only colored student in my class.
The speaker begins his musing by brainstorming, listing the reasons that the assignment may not be so simple as the instructor has made it sound. The student/speaker is only “twenty-two,” but he is older than most of the other students in his class.
He was born in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, where he attended school until he moved to New York. The speaker is now attending college in Harlem. He is the only “colored” student in the class. Despite the fact that the majority of the population of Harlem was African American, it was still a time when few of them attended college.
Second Movement: A Brainstorming Tactic
The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem, through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas, Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y, the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator up to my room, sit down, and write this page:
As the speaker begins to write, he traces the route that he takes from the college to his apartment. This step in his composition process seems to be a delaying tactic—a brainstorming activity just to get started thinking on the issue. He no doubt intuits that during the process of writing one thing leads to another, and he is thereby likely hoping that the trivial will lead to the profound.
Third Movement: Musing on What Is True
It’s not easy to know what is true for you or me at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I’m what I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you: hear you, hear me—we two—you, me, talk on this page. (I hear New York, too.) Me—who?
Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love. I like to work, read, learn, and understand life. I like a pipe for a Christmas present, or records—Bessie, bop, or Bach.
The speaker then turns his attention to what might be “true” for himself and what might be “true” for a white instructor. It crosses his mind that the differences between them might be too great for the instructor to understand and appreciate a “colored” student’s experience.
Nevertheless, the speaker begins to examine what he feels is genuine for himself. He then guesses that what he sees helps make him what he is—a brilliant recovery from what might have sounded only like stalling in the brainstorming session that began his composition.
By tracing the route he takes to school, he has opened up the possibilities for what he sees and hears. What he sees and hears is Harlem as he somewhat awkwardly spills out his thinking. He hears himself, he hears his instructor, and now he has to “talk on this page” to this instructor. He hears “New York,” but then he circles back to himself with a question, implying a query into who he actually is.
The answer to his question is important because the assignment, after all, is to produce a piece of writing that tells the instructor who the student is, what he hopes for, and what is in his heart and mind. The instructor has intimated that if the student writer will search his own heart and mind, he will then write what is “true,” that is, what is genuine and accurate without obfuscation and guile. The speaker then moves on to catalogue what he likes: sleeping, eating, drinking, and being in love.
Furthermore, the speaker enjoys such activities as working, reading, learning, and he likes to “understand life”—all fine qualities that would likely impress a university instructor. He also likes to receive “a pipe for a Christmas present.”
Finally, the speaker lists other items that he enjoys getting such as records for Christmas because he enjoys listening to music. His taste in music turns out to be rather eclectic from “Bessie, bop, or Bach.” He must be simply gleeful that his music preferences create an interesting sounding alliterative series of names.
Fourth Movement: Communication between Black and White
I guess being colored doesn’t make me not like the same things other folks like who are other races. So will my page be colored that I write?
The opening two lines of this movement present the observation that this young man has tentatively made in his life, so he frames that observation as a “guess”—he surmises that race does not dictate what an individual “likes.”
Still as a young man, the speaker continues to wonder if how he feels and what he says will register with his white instructor. He, therefore, wonders if what he writes will be “colored.”
The speaker is contemplating what he believes is genuine for himself as the instructor has suggested, but he remains unsure that he can be understood by a white instructor if his words reveal him as “colored.”
Fifth Movement: Racial Boundaries
Being me, it will not be white. But it will be a part of you, instructor. You are white— yet a part of me, as I am a part of you. That’s American. Sometimes perhaps you don’t want to be a part of me. Nor do I often want to be a part of you. But we are, that’s true! As I learn from you, I guess you learn from me— although you’re older—and white— and somewhat more free.
This is my page for English B.
The speaker then insists that what he writes will “not be white.” Yet it must still be part of the instructor. Although he is black and the instructor is white, they are surely still part of each other because “That’s American.”
Yet the speaker does remain aware that often whites do not want to be part of blacks, and he is also aware that the reverse is equally true. Despite those racial boundaries of separation, the speaker believes that they are still part of each other, whether they accept it or not.
Finally, the speaker concludes with a very significant discernment: the black student learns from the white instructor, and the white instructor can also learn from the black student, even if the instructor is older, white, and “somewhat more free” than the black student.
The speaker concludes by offering the explicit statement, “This is my page for English B.” He seems to feel that he has likely exhausted his exploration for the true, genuine, and accurate for this English assignment.
The Speaker of the Poem
Lest readers are tempted to take this poem as autobiography, a perusal of Hughes’ autobiographical work, The Big Sea, should disabuse them of that error. In that first autobiography (his second was I Wonder as I Wander), the poet describes his college days at Lincoln University, located in “the rolling hills of Pennsylvania,” not “on the hill above Harlem.”
Hughes does not broach any subject as mundane as an English class assignment as he describes his rough and tumble days at Lincoln. Also, Hughes was born in Joplin, Missouri, not “Winston-Salem.”
It is useful to remember that poets seldom write autobiographical details; they often create characters, as playwrights do. Hughes does take the opportunity in this piece to make a statement about race relations, a topic that he explored his whole life. But the speaker of a poem and the poet are often not the same, and to understand and appreciate the poem that fact must be kept in mind.
Controversy over the Phrase “African American”
The controversy surrounding the appellation, “African American,” reached an important pinnacle after Teresa Heinz Kerry, Caucasian wife of the 2004 presidential candidate and former senator John Kerry, identified herself as “African American.”
Teresa Heinz was born and raised in Mozambique, which is a country in Africa. Having been a resident of the USA since 1963, she qualifies most assuredly as an “African American.” The fact that she is white demonstrates the inaccuracy that Rev. Jackson foisted upon the black population of the United States of America, as he attempted to euphemize terms that need no euphemism.
Amanda Gorman’s “For Renee Nicole Good” tries to be an elegy, but it falters in displaying contrived diction, strained prosody, clichéd imagery, and manipulative historical framing—all compromising its position as an elegiac form.
Introduction and Text of “For Renee Nicole Good”
Spurred on by the January 7, 2026, incident in which Renee Nicole Good was fatally shot by an ICE agent in Minneapolis, inaugural poetry reader Amanda Gorman has focused on the unfortunate event for moral and political effect, prioritizing rhetoric over grief and glossing over a complex historical reality.
Gorman’s piece commemorates Renee Nicole Good, a 37-year-old Minneapolis woman, who was killed during a federal immigration enforcement operation. The incident, widely reported in major media, involved Good ramming her 4,000-pound Honda Pilot into an ICE officer, causing him to suffer internal injuries. Allegedly, the officer reacted by shooting Good in self-defense.
Political and media pundits have continued to debate federal characterizations of her actions, including claims that labeled her a “domestic terrorist.” Talking heads on various media outlets have continued to exploit the dismal affair by interpreting the videos of the event to fit their own narratives.
Gorman’s piece attempts to position Good’s death as the result of systemic failure couched in moral urgency; however, the literary execution of the piece weakens Gorman aim at elegy. The rime is forced and uneven, diction is inflated and often awkward, and imagery slips into abstraction or cliché.
The use of figurative language remains symbolic and moralistic, rather than being grounded in Good’s specific circumstances. While the piece attempts elegiac elevation, its rhetorical ornamentation and moral abstraction produce nothing more than mere posturing.
The piece remains merely decorative verse lacking emotional precision or nuanced engagement with historical fact. The piece remains an excellent example of “miselegy”—not elegy.
For Renee Nicole Good
Killed by I.C.E. on January 7, 2026
They say she is no more, That there her absence roars, Blood-blown like a rose. Iced wheels flinched & froze. Now, bare riot of candles, Dark fury of flowers, Pure howling of hymns.
If for us she arose, Somewhere, in the pitched deep of our grief, Crouches our power, The howl where we begin, Straining upon the edge of the crooked crater Of the worst of what we’ve been.
Change is only possible, & all the greater, When the labour & bitter anger of our neighbors Is moved by the love & better angels of our nature.
What they call death & void, We know is breath & voice; In the end, gorgeously, Endures our enormity.
You could believe departed to be the dawn When the blank night has so long stood. But our bright-fled angels will never be fully gone, When they forever are so fiercely Good.
Commentary on “For Renee Nicole Good”
Amanda Gorman’s piece is rhetorically inflated and abstract, inflating symbolic moral critique over concrete grief. It glosses over key facts and turns personal tragedy into generalized indictment. The result is both stylistic weakness and historical distortion.
First Movement: “They say she is no more”
They say she is no more, That there her absence roars, Blood-blown like a rose. Iced wheels flinched & froze. Now, bare riot of candles, Dark fury of flowers, Pure howling of hymns.
If for us she arose, Somewhere, in the pitched deep of our grief, Crouches our power, The howl where we begin, Straining upon the edge of the crooked crater Of the worst of what we’ve been.
The piece fails as elegy from its opening lines, with vagueness masquerading as intensity. The vague claim—“They say she is no more”—screams out as a slack, secondhand construction. The nondescript, distancing phrase “they say” bypasses the elegist’s most important obligation—to bear direct witness to loss.
Compare this avoidance to the stark authority of Walt Whitman’s “When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d” or even a simple declarative statement such as “She is dead”: the circumlocution here drains the death of immediacy before the piece has properly begun.
The use of figurative language compounds the failure. “Blood-blown like a rose” aspires to vivid compression but achieves only decorative incongruity: ”blood-blown” suggests violence, yet the rose is so overworked a poetic symbol that it softens rather than sharpens what ought to be a disturbing image. Thus, the two terms are pitted against each other.
Similarly, “Iced wheels flinched & froze” is so obscure that it remains meaninglessness: wheels, obviously belong to the 4000 pound vehicle, but wheels do not flinch. The verb “flinch” describes a human reaction of nervousness, and to assign wheels this involuntary recoil is to sentimentalize machinery rather than illuminate human grief.
The lines “bare riot of candles, / Dark fury of flowers, / Pure howling of hymns” reveal another besetting weakness: the piece’s reliance on oxymoronic abstract nouns to manufacture feeling it has not earned. A riot is not bare; fury is not dark in any illuminating sense; howling is not pure; see Malcolm M. Sedam’s appraisal of Allen Ginsberg’s “Howl.”
These contradictions do not exert a useful tension; instead, they simply hint at emotional extremes without grounding them in any specific detail of the occasion, the mourners, or the deceased. Readers learn nothing about who this woman was or who weeps for her.
The closing lines’ prosody also undermines its ambitions. The lines “Crouches our power, / The howl where we begin” strain for prophetic weight but the inversion “crouches our power” is merely awkward, and “the howl where we begin” is so abstract as to be empty—begin what?
The final image of “the crooked crater / Of the worst of what we’ve been” gestures at collective historical shame but without any specific referent. Although this piece concerns a real death in a specific circumstance—one involving an officer’s injury and reaction of likely self-defense, the needed context is entirely absent.
Elegy, at its best, as in Auden’s “In Memory of W.B. Yeats,” earns any generalization by first anchoring itself in specificity. This piece attempts the reverse, and the result is rhetoric without a foundation that is, nevertheless, loud, shapeless, unmoved and unmoving.
Second Movement: “Change is only possible”
Change is only possible, & all the greater, When the labour & bitter anger of our neighbors Is moved by the love & better angels of our nature.
What they call death & void, We know is breath & voice; In the end, gorgeously, Endures our enormity.
The second movement opens with a conditional proposition in the first stanza of the movement, and this proposal immediately reveals the piece’s central confusion of purpose: elegy is not argument. The conditional “when” converts mourning to a political syllogism: grief is admissible only insofar as it produces the correct social outcome. The dead woman has already been subordinated to a thesis.
The phrase “better angels of our nature” compounds the problem by alluding to Lincoln’s famous phrase without earning it. In Abraham Lincoln’s First Inaugural Address, the phrase carried the weight of a young nation on the verge of civil war; here it is borrowed to lend gravitas to what is essentially a political slogan. The allusion does not illuminate; it appropriates.
The lines “What they call death & void, / We know is breath & voice” represent the most telling failure in the passage. The opposition of “they” and “we” divides the world into the politically benighted and the enlightened speaker’s community, and in doing so it abandons the elegiac mode entirely.
Elegy confronts death as an irreducible, universal fact, intrinsic to the human condition; it does not reframe death as a misperception held by ideological opponents. To argue that death is not merely what the unenlightened “call” it is not consolation; it is evasion dressed as affirmation.
The closing couplet reaches for the lapidary but lands in obscurity. “Enormity” in precise usage means moral outrage or wickedness, which may be the intended meaning, but then “gorgeously” becomes grotesque in the wrong way, not productively paradoxical but simply muddled.
If “enormity” is used loosely to mean vastness or magnitude, the line collapses into vague self-congratulation: we are very large, and we endure. Neither reading redeems the couplet, and neither brings the reader any closer to a specific dead woman, her specific life, or the specific circumstances of her death. The piece has fully exchanged the particular for the rhetorical, and what endures is not grief but posture.
Third Movement: “You could believe departed to be the dawn”
You could believe departed to be the dawn When the blank night has so long stood. But our bright-fled angels will never be fully gone, When they forever are so fiercely Good.
The final movement opens with a conditional that immediately points to its own uncertainty: “You could believe departed to be the dawn.” The addition of the verb “believe” does not signal the tentativeness of honest doubt; it is the tentativeness of a versifier who knows the metaphor is not working.
That time of day known as dawn as a poetic device for death’s transcendence is among the most exhausted—therefore clichéd—resources in the elegiac tradition, and to introduce it with “you could believe” rather than committing to it fully exposes an acknowledgment of its staleness. The line asks readers to entertain a consolation that the piece itself does not fully trust.
The line “The blank night has so long stood” attempts to deepen the light-and-darkness opposition but “blank” is doing no useful work here. Night is characterized only by the absence of qualities, which is itself an absence of imagination.
Compare the productive darkness in elegies that have earned their consolations through prior engagement with specific grief. For example, Thomas Gray’s “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard” lingers over the obscurity and stifled potential of the rural dead before arriving at its muted, hard‑won consolations. The darkness in Gorman’s piece has no particular texture because the woman mourned has never been rendered particular.
The line “Our bright-fled angels” is symptomatic of the movement’s broader failure. The compound adjective “bright-fled” strains for originality but produces only a vague luminous blur. Readers cannot see these angels, cannot locate them, cannot feel their specific absence. And “angels,” used here for the second time in the piece, has by this point become the piece’s default finger pointing toward the transcendent, deployed only wherever the sentiment runs short of concrete reality.
The closing line “When they forever are so fiercely Good” makes the piece’s central substitution explicit and, in doing so, exposes its paucity. The capitalization of “Good” collapses the woman’s surname into a moral abstraction, transforming a specific human being into an emblem of virtue—a claim which is never realized.
This kind of sleight-of-hand is the opposite of what elegy requires. The great elegies, including Milton’s “Lycidas,” Tennyson’s “In Memoriam A. H. H,” and Wilcox’s “The Queen’s Last Ride,” depend upon the irreplaceable particularity of the lost individual.
Here, the decedent’s’ name is conscripted into the piece’s rhetorical argument: she is “Good” [good]; therefore, her death indicts a system that is not. The wordplay, however well-intentioned, subordinates the woman’s personhood to her usefulness as a symbol, which is precisely the charge that the piece is leveling at the broader social forces it purports to critique.
Taken as a whole, “For Renee Nicole Good” fails as elegy because its every formal and figurative decision moves away from the particular and toward the general, away from grief and toward argument, away from the irreducibly human fact of one woman’s death and toward the consolations of political and moral statement.
Doggerel is not merely a matter of clumsy versification; it is verse that reaches beyond its own imaginative and emotional resources. This piece reaches very far and grasps nothing of substance.