Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s final sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers” from the sequence assures her belovèd that she has finally accepted his gift of love.
Introduction and Text of Sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s final sonnet from the Sonnets from the Portuguese sequence assures her belovèd that she has finally accepted his gift of love. Sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers” is the final poem, which completes this remarkable sequence of love poems.
This sonnet finds the speaker musing on the flowers that her belovèd has brought to her. The speaker quickly transforms the physical blossoms into metaphysical blooms that symbolize the lovers’ bond.
After all the handwringing of self-doubt that has plagued the speaker throughout this sequence, she must now find a way to assure both herself and her belovèd that her mind set has transformed itself from the dull negative to a shining positive. The speaker must show her fiancé that they are bound together with an exceptional love. She must also make it clear that she understands the strong ties they now possess.
The speaker’s metaphoric comparison of the love gifts of physical flowers and the symbolic flowers that she has created from her own heart soil will remain an eternal reminder to both herself and her belovèd as they travel the road of marriage together.
Sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers”
Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers Plucked in the garden, all the summer through And winter, and it seemed as if they grew In this close room, nor missed the sun and showers. So, in the like name of that love of ours, Take back these thoughts which here unfolded too, And which on warm and cold days I withdrew From my heart’s ground. Indeed, those beds and bowers Be overgrown with bitter weeds and rue, And wait thy weeding; yet here’s eglantine, Here’s ivy!—take them, as I used to do Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine Instruct thine eyes to keep their colors true, And tell thy soul their roots are left in mine.
Commentary on Sonnet 44 “Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers”
The final sonnet in the sequence assures the speaker’s belovèd that she has finally accepted his gift of love, without any further doubts.
First Quatrain: A Gift of Flowers
Belovèd, thou hast brought me many flowers Plucked in the garden, all the summer through And winter, and it seemed as if they grew In this close room, nor missed the sun and showers.
The speaker muses about the flowers that her belovèd has given her during summer. To her it seems that the flowers have remained as vibrant indoors in her “close room” as they were outside in the “sun and showers.”
These miraculous flowers seem to have remained healthy and glowing even during winter. The speaker then insists that they “grew / In this close room” and that they did not miss “the sun and showers.”
Of course, the physical flowers are just the motivation for the musing, which transforms the physical blooms into flowers of a metaphysical sort—those that have impressed images upon her soul, beyond the image on the retina.
Second Quatrain: Sonnets as Flower-Thoughts
So, in the like name of that love of ours, Take back these thoughts which here unfolded too, And which on warm and cold days I withdrew From my heart’s ground. Indeed, those beds and bowers
Thus the speaker commands her belovèd to “take back these thoughts which here unfolded too.” She is referring to her sonnets, which are her flower-thoughts given to her belovèd to honor their love.
The speaker affirms that she has plucked her sonnet-flowers “from [her] heart’s ground.” And the creative speaker has composed her tributes on “warm and cold days.”
The weather in the speaker’s heart and soul was always equal to producing fine blossoms for her loved one. As the speaker basked in his love, the flower “beds and bowers” produced these poems with floral fragrance and hues.
First Tercet: Correcting Her Clumsiness
Be overgrown with bitter weeds and rue, And wait thy weeding; yet here’s eglantine, Here’s ivy!—take them, as I used to do
The speaker then inserts her usual self-deprecatory thoughts, admitting that her floral efforts are surely, “overgrown with bitter weeds and rue,” but she gladly submits them for him to “weed” as needed.
The speaker’s gifted and talented belovèd can correct her clumsiness. She names two of her poems “eglantine” and “ivy” and commands him to “take them,” as she used to take his gifts of flowers, and probably gifts of his own poems to her as well.
Second Tercet: In His Care
Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine Instruct thine eyes to keep their colors true, And tell thy soul their roots are left in mine.
The speaker commands her belovèd to safeguard her pieces so “they shall not pine.” In his care, she will also not pine. And the poem will “instruct [his] eyes” to the true feelings she bears for him.
The speaker’s poems will henceforth remind him that she feels bound to him at the soul. Soul qualities have always been more important to this speaker than physical and mental qualities.
The “colors true” of this speaker’s sonnets will continue to pour forth her love for her belovèd and “tell [his] soul their roots are left in [hers].” Each sonnet will reinforce their love and celebrate the life they will make together.
Image: Elizabeth Barrett Browning – Engraving from original Painting by Chappel, 1872. (Photo by: Universal History Archive/Universal Images Group via Getty Images)
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 43 “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways”
The sonnet “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways”—number 43 in Sonnets from the Portuguese—remains the most famous and widely read sonnet of the sequence. The speaker is offering a summary of all the ways she has come to love her soon to be husband.
Introduction and Text of Sonnet 43 “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways”
Sonnet 43 “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways” is the most widely anthologized sonnet from Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sequence titled Sonnets from the Portuguese. It is likely the many high school or college graduates remember that line but may have remained unaware that it is only #43 from its accompanying sequence of 43 other sonnets.
The sonnet is a Petrarchan sonnet as are all of the other sonnets in the sequence. In the octave, the speaker is musing about how much she loves her belovèd suitor, and she asks the question, “How do I love thee?”
Then the speaker proceeds to answer the question, so the reader becomes aware that the speaker is not literally addressing her belovèd, but she is addressing the thought or perhaps even an image of that belovèd. In the sestet, the speaker counts three definite ways and one possible way that she will love him throughout eternity.
Sonnet 43 “H0w do I love thee? Let me count the ways”
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday’s Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
Commentary on Sonnet 43 “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways”
Sonnet 43 “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways” remains the most famous and widely read sonnet of the sequence.
First Quatrain: An Emphatic Rhetorical Question
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
The speaker asks an obvious rhetorical question that requires only her feeling to fill out; thus she continues, “Let me count the ways.” She loves him with all her soul, as that soul strives for an idealism that has to be left up to faith. The soul searches in all directions through “depth and breadth and height” for this idealism, which this speaker calls “the ends of Being and ideal Grace.”
Second Quatrain: Love and All Levels
I love thee to the level of everyday’s Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
The speaker has begun with the sublime, ethereal level of her love by invoking how she loves her belovèd on the spiritual level. The speaker then brings herself quickly back to the mundane activities of daily life by saying that another way she loves him is through even the smallest daily act whether that act is performed during the daylight hours or during the night, “by sun and candle-light.”
The speaker then asserts that her love for her belovèd is spontaneous and “freely” given; therefore, she loves him in the way humankind loves freedom and acts correctly in striving to secure and maintain that freedom. She then claims that her love is as pure as those who are humble when praised. In the octave, the speaker has signified four ways she loves her belovèd: spiritually, materially, “freely,” and “purely.”
First Tercet: All Encompassing Love
I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
The speaker loves him with the same ardor that used to grip her when she faced difficulties, but this “passion” is tempered by the fact that that love is also similar to the love that childhood provided her, an opposite kind of emotion from the one that caused her “old griefs.” This love includes the polar opposites of fear and love, with love tempering the fear in a balanced and useful way.
The speaker also loves her belovèd life mate with a kind of respect and admiration that she thought she had outgrown; this group of people could be a fairly large one, including friends, teachers, relatives, and even religious “saints,” the term she uses. But the key word is that she “seemed” to lose this love, but with her belovèd suitor, that love is returned to her.
Second Tercet: Love unto Eternity
With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
The next way she loves her belovèd she asserts in a breathless, almost ecstatic pronouncement: “— I love thee with the breath, / Smiles, tears, of all my life! —.” Placed between dashes, these terms then signal an emphasis of expression.
This assertion captures the excitement and underscores the passion in the speaker’s claim, while it prepares the reader or listener, for the last breathtaking claim that, “if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.”
So in the sestet, the speaker again professes four ways in which she loves the belovèd: with a passion of meeting former challenges but tempered by a childlike faith, with a kind of love she thought she had lost, and with her whole being. But most importantly for this speaker, she has faith that she will love this belovèd soul mate eternally.
Some bones stand like corn stalks After late harvest. They bristle in the field. They remain unclean though they look Bleached and scrubbed.
Skeletons may hang in closets But not these bones—the ones That are losing themselves As they scream and pound sand.
Some bones cry for a thinner cloak But unlike some hearts They have never broken themselves Over the pain of this mud ball.
Some bones slash themselves in early spring And cleave to youth too late in summer. A young brain cannot pool its dreams To yield the pith of adult philosophy.
Some bones have no star to guide errant ways. They may stitch themselves by valves But sense no light in the chambers That wobble and bleed ugly passions.
Some bones keep wobbling, sputtering, Spitting in the face of any thought That might hold them to account Lingering in the mud of passing time.
A Prose Commentary on My Original Poem “Some Bones”
In my poem “Some Bones,” I have created a speaker who is musing on fragmentation, arrested development, and the failure of inner cohesion, using the recurring image of bones—stripped, exposed, and stubbornly animate—as a controlling metaphor for the human condition when it is cut off from spiritual integration.
Unlike the quiet endurance of stone, bone suggests a harsher, more restless existence: something once living that refuses, even in its partial ruin, to settle into peace. Such failure epitomizes the blocked condition of generations of unhappy, prideful, and dangerous individuals who have remained strangers to themselves.
The language remains constructively physical—bones, closets, sand, mud, valves—yet it continually gesticulates toward psychological and spiritual disarray. My speaker does not offer consolation; instead, she allows the imagery to confront the reader with a kind of unresolved agitation. Where wisdom might emerge, it does so jarringly, often obstructed by immaturity, illusion, or sheer refusal.
Underlying the poem is my own sense that without a guiding metaphysical orientation—whether one names it divine light, higher consciousness, or moral clarity—the human being risks becoming disjointed, reactive, and perpetually unfinished. Such an orientation of mind has been instilled in my mindset by my blessèd Guru Paramahansa Yogananda.
First Stanza: Residue after Harvest
In the opening stanza, my speaker presents bones as remnants, likened to corn stalks left standing after harvest. This simile is intentional: what remains is not fruitful but residual, something overlooked, perhaps even abandoned. The bones “bristle,” suggesting defensiveness, a kind of posturing that masks emptiness.
Though they appear “bleached and scrubbed,” they remain “unclean.” This contradiction establishes a central tension: outward purification does not equate to inner transformation.
The bones carry a stain that cannot be washed away by exposure or time alone. I wanted the speaker to imply that mere survival or endurance does not guarantee wisdom; one can persist and yet remain fundamentally unresolved.
Second Stanza: Refusal of Containment
Here, my speaker contrasts the familiar idiom of “skeletons in closets” with these bones, which refuse concealment. They are not hidden but actively “losing themselves / As they scream and pound sand.” The image is specifically chaotic and futile—pounding sand accomplishes nothing, yet it expresses frustration and desperation.
These bones are not passive relics but disintegrating agents, unable to maintain coherence. The phrase “losing themselves” suggests a failure of identity, a dissolution rather than a stable essence. The speaker is emphasizing a kind of existential noise: movement without direction, expression without meaning—a condition that will remind my readers of the influence of postmodernism on poetry.
Third Stanza: Avoidance of True Suffering
In this stanza, the bones “cry for a thinner cloak,” desiring relief or escape, yet my speaker contrasts them with hearts that have “broken themselves / Over the pain of this mud ball.” The implication is that these bones have avoided the kind of deep suffering that refines and transforms.
There is, in my view, a necessary breaking that accompanies genuine emotional or spiritual growth. These bones, however, remain intact in a superficial sense precisely because they have not undergone that process.
Their complaint is shallow; they seek comfort without having earned insight. The “mud ball” underscores the earth’s dirty imperfection, a condition that must be confronted rather than evaded.
Fourth Stanza: Temporal Dislocation and Immaturity
The fourth stanza examines the misalignment of time and development. The bones “slash themselves in early spring” and “cleave to youth too late in summer,” suggesting a disordered relationship to life’s natural phases. There is both premature self-harm and delayed attachment to youth.
The concluding line suggests frenetically what the imagery implies: maturity requires synthesis. Dreams alone, without discipline or time, cannot produce wisdom. I wanted the speaker to assert that intellectual and spiritual depth cannot be rushed or improvised; it must be cultivated through experience and reflection.
Fifth Stanza: Absence of Guiding Light
Here, my speaker turns sternly to the absence of direction. The image that “Some bones have no star to guide errant ways” invokes the ancient image of navigation by the heavens. Without such a reference point, these bones attempt a kind of self-repair—“stitch themselves by valves”—but the effort is mechanical and insufficient.
The “chambers” evoke both the heart and the mind, yet they “sense no light.” This lack is crucial: the structure exists, but illumination does not. The result is a system that “wobbles and bleed[s] ugly passions,” governed not by clarity but by disorder. The speaker is averring that without an orienting principle, human faculties become unstable, even grotesque.
Sixth Stanza: Defiance and Stagnation
In the final stanza, the bones persist in their agitation—“wobbling, sputtering”—but now their resistance is directed against accountability itself. They reject introspection or discipline.
The closing image, “Lingering in the mud of passing time,” echoes to the earlier “mud ball,” but now it emphasizes stagnation. Time moves, yet the bones do not progress; they remain mired, neither decaying fully nor transforming.
This eventuality is, perhaps, the most severe judgment in the poem: not suffering, not even failure, but refusal—the unwillingness to engage the very processes that might lead to growth.
An Afterthought
In “Some Bones,” I have attempted to portray a condition of partial existence—one in which the human being retains structure and motion but lacks integration, direction, and illumination. The bones are not dead, but neither are they fully alive in any meaningful sense.
Where my earlier musing on stone suggested endurance and the possibility of quiet wisdom, here I explore a more troubled state: persistence without purpose, animation without coherence.
The poem ultimately argues, though indirectly, that without a willingness to suffer, to mature, and to orient oneself toward a higher principle, one risks becoming like these bones—restless, exposed, and perpetually incomplete.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 39 “Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace”
In sonnet 39 “Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace,” the speaker is crediting her belovèd with being able to see her true soul through all of the despair that the years have heaped upon her.
Introduction and Text of Sonnet 39 “Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace”
In Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s sonnet 39 from Sonnets from the Portuguese, the speaker endeavors to leave her former diminished stature behind now that she is unconditionally loved by a wonderful man.
The speaker is heaping all the credit upon her belovèd fiancé for her acquiring the ability to perceive her true nature despite all of the sorrow that years of pining away have left in her life.
Sonnet 39 “Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace”
Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace To look through and behind this mask of me (Against which years have beat thus blanchingly With their rains), and behold my soul’s true face, The dim and weary witness of life’s race,— Because thou hast the faith and love to see, Through that same soul’s distracting lethargy, The patient angel waiting for a place In the new Heavens,—because nor sin nor woe,Nor God’s infliction, nor death’s neighborhood, Nor all which others viewing, turn to go, Nor all which makes me tired of all, self-viewed,— Nothing repels thee, … Dearest, teach me so To pour out gratitude, as thou dost, good!
Commentary on Sonnet 39 “Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace”
The speakers revealing the importance of the influence of her belovèd for her newly acquired, delicious ability to see her true soul through all of the despair that the years have foisted upon her.
First Quatrain: Powers of Vision
Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace To look through and behind this mask of me (Against which years have beat thus blanchingly With their rains), and behold my soul’s true face,
Addressing her belovèd, the speaker credits him with the ability to see through the veil she has drooped around herself for protection. Throughout her life, the years of feeling sad and sorrowful have taken a tremendous toll on her physical beauty and mental attitude.
However, her new love is able to pierce through those superficialities to perceive the value of her soul. The speaker implies that she has spent many hours crying; therefore, she metaphorically transforms the tears and years into “rains” that have “beat thus blanchingly.”
Second Quatrain: A Forlorn Life
The dim and weary witness of life’s race,— Because thou hast the faith and love to see, Through that same soul’s distracting lethargy, The patient angel waiting for a place
The speaker avers that her forlorn life has been witnessed by her soul, which has come to identify itself as “dim and weary.” The melancholy speaker then reports and concludes that her new love has both the “faith and love” that enable him to intuit the true nature or her soul.
Though the speaker’s soul has been abused in the senses as she experienced so much pain, doubt, and anguish and thus has grown dull with “distracting lethargy,” it remained a “patient angel,” biding its time for better things to come.
First Tercet: A New Blossoming
In the new Heavens,—because nor sin nor woe,Nor God’s infliction, nor death’s neighborhood, Nor all which others viewing, turn to go, Nor all which makes me tired of all, self-viewed,— Nothing repels thee, … Dearest, teach me so To pour out gratitude, as thou dost, good!
As the speaker’s heavy-burdened soul waited “for a place / / In the new Heavens,” she now realizes the extent to which she has become aware of a new blossoming through the love of her suitor. The speaker then begins a catalogue of negativity that has not been able to impede her belovèd from sensing the face of her real soul.
That list includes “nor sin nor woe.” Furthermore, “God’s infliction” and “death’s neighborhood” could not hide her soul from him. And even other impediments of her personality that repelled others could not make her belovèd abandon her.
Second Tercet: A Catalogue of Maladies
Nor all which makes me tired of all, self-viewed,— Nothing repels thee, … Dearest, teach me so To pour out gratitude, as thou dost, good!
Continuing the catalogue of maladies, the speaker includes “all which makes me tired of all, self-viewed.” When she judged herself most harshly, she had found so many imperfections that the accumulation of them weakened her will to live a productive life. Yet even these worst qualities of character have not been able to route the speaker’s new love from her, and her final remark shows the nature of her true soul.
The recovering melancholic speaker now commands her belovèd to offer her instruction in remaining and showing thankfulness. The speaker’s miserable life has made her feel that she hitherto had nothing for which to be thankful, and now she needs to learn how to show gratitude, instead of masking it behind a veil of tears.
The speaker finally asserts that her belovèd has the ability to pour out “good” with such a spontaneous ease that she wants to learn to do so as well. If her belovèd suitor is so generous with being “good,” then the speaker wants to become generous in being thankful.
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.
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