FET PHASE POEMS
C
Grade 10 Home Language
Table of Content
‘They flee from me’ (Thomas
Wyatt)
‘The Indian burying ground (Philip
Freneau)
‘London, 1802’ (William
Wordsworth)
‘Amagoduka at Glencoe Station’
(Mbuyiseni Oswald Mtshali)
‘A Martian sends a postcard
home’ (Craig Raine)
‘Making clowns martyrs (or
Returning home without
chauffeurs’ (Jack Mapanje)
‘Small passing’ (Ingrid de Kok)
‘What will they eat?’ (Mzi Mahola)
‘Sedition’ (Cecil Rajendra)
‘Sonnet 130’ (William Shakespeare)
‘THEY FLEE FROM
ME’
C
(Thomas Wyatt)
Introduction
"They Flee From Me" is a poem by the 16th-century English
poet and courtier Thomas Wyatt. In the poem, the speaker
laments the fact that he has fallen from favor—the women
who used to "seek" him in his "chamber" now seem to "flee"
from him. The poem is often associated with Wyatt's own
biography—he is famously rumored to have had an affair
with Anne Boleyn, one of Henry VIII's wives—but the poem
more generally captures the sense of confusion, regret, and
bitterness that can come with the end of a relationship. It
also provides a great insight into the world of intrigue,
suspicion, and changing fortunes that was the Tudor court
(the Tudor dynasty ruled over England for three centuries).
Introduction
These days, my ex-lovers avoid me—the same people who
used to sneak barefooted into my quarters. I remember
them as shy, gentle creatures. Now they're wild, and don't
even remember how they used to put themselves at risk just
to come and take a piece of bread from my hand.
Nowadays they roam about, constantly seeking something
new.
I'm glad that things used to be better—much better, in fact.
I remember one particularly special occasion when a lover
came to see, scantily dressed after an enjoyable show. Her
gown easily slipped off of her shoulders, and she held me in
her long, small arms and gently kissed me, asking me in a
whisper how I liked it.
Introduction
That wasn't a dream: I was wide awake. But everything has
changed because I was too gentle and nice, and now she
totally ignores me. She lets me do my thing while she
focuses on her own fickle needs. Since she's never blatantly
mistreated me it's hard to know how to feel about her.
Theme: Love and Relationships
“They Flee From Me” expresses an idea that most modern
readers can relate to: love and relationships are
complicated! In the poem, the speaker tries to make sense
of the fact that while women use to “seek” him, now they
actively avoid him. The speaker puzzles over how drastically
the relationship between two people can change; how
what was once an intense, exciting intimacy can so quickly
become a cold kind of distance. Ultimately the poem
presents love, on the one hand, as a deep and beautiful
mystery, and, on the other as a rather cynical power game
between people (which, in the England’s royal court during
the 16th century, could literally be a matter of life and
death!).
Theme: Love and Relationships
In the past, the speaker enjoyed receiving female visitors to
his “chamber”—some of whom put themselves at risk “to
take bread at [his] hand,” perhaps suggesting that the
excitement of an illicit affair was in the atmosphere. The
poem thus initially presents love as something thrilling, the
key to a door of a special kind of intimate beauty. It also
presents the speaker as squarely in control of these actions.
The speaker then recalls how a specific lover, wearing only
a thin gown, kissed him “sweetly” and held him tight. The
speaker cherishes this memory, marking it out as a
particularly “special” time in his life. This is the simple side of
love, in which life makes sense in the arms of another.
Theme: Love and Relationships
But the poem stresses that this kind of simplicity is fleeting (or,
perhaps, “flee-ing”!). Love is not just sweetness and
intimacy, then, but also a kind of power struggle. To
emphasize this, the poem makes use of one Wyatt’s
common metaphors: that love is a kind of hunt, an issue of
predator vs. prey.
Wyatt’s speaker was once top of the food chain, so to
speak, visited by “gentle, tame, and meek” creatures. But
soon enough these roles are subverted—the hunted
becomes the hunter, and the hunter (the speaker)
becomes an irrelevance, "forsak[en]" by his lover. Nothing
can be taken for granted when it comes to love, the poem
implies, and yesterday’s prey could be tomorrow’s predator.
The speaker’s lover is free to pursue other love interests—"to
use newfangleness," to sow her wild outs—leaving the
speaker to wonder what happened.
Theme: Love and Relationships
With this in mind, the poem can be read as an expression of
the confusion—and, perhaps, bitterness—caused by love.
The speaker knows his love affair was “no dream,” but he
doesn’t know how to feel about the new dynamic between
himself and his lover now that she's moved on. He’s not
even sure if she “deserve[s]” his kindness or his anger. He
wonders if her was too “gentle,” and should have asserted
himself more strongly on his lover’s “wild[ness].” The poem,
then, manages to highlight the way that love can seem so
intense and real—as if it will last forever—while, on the other
hand, feelings between two lovers can change beyond
recognition almost in an instant.
1. They flee from me that sometime did me seek
2. With naked foot, stalking in my chamber.
• The first line sets up the speaker's problem: while an unnamed "they" used to "seek" him, now they
"flee" (or run away) from him. Soon enough it will be clear that the speaker is talking about his
lovers, but for now things remain vague. A clue as to who this "they" refers to does appear in line 2,
however, with the phrase "naked foot." This means barefoot but also suggests sexual intimacy, that
the air was charged with excitement whenever "they" sought the speaker out.
• The opening lines also set up the poem's extended metaphor/conceit, which portrays love and sex
as a kind of hunt. Take the word "stalking," which creates an image of these barefoot creatures
prowling around the speaker's chamber as a predator prowls around its prey. The speaker thus uses
animalistic language to paint relationships between people as something primal, instinctual, and
even dangerous. On that note, it's worth noting that Wyatt was a courtier in Henry VIII's court, which
meant that sleeping with the wrong person—or, similarly, being accused of some sexual
wrongdoing—really could result in death!
1. They flee from me that sometime did me seek
2. With naked foot, stalking in my chamber.
• Now, the speaker has apparently fallen out of favor with this "they." He doesn't specify why this has
happened, but the context of the poem might again offer some clues: the fragility of personal
loyalties and the suspicion that came with this was one of the defining features the English court
during the Tudor period (1485-1603).
• The sounds of these lines are also notable. Take the assonance between "flee," "me," and "seek,"
which draws readers' attention to the contrast between the speaker's two states—being fled from
and being sought out. Meanwhile, the hissing sibilance throughout these lines ("sometime," "seek,"
"stalking") conveys a quiet world of whispers and intrigue.
• These lines also establish the poem's meter, which is iambic pentameter. This means that each line
has five iambs, poetic feet with a da-DUM rhythm:
They flee | from me | that some- | time did | me seek
3. I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek,
4. That now are wild and do not remember
5. That sometime they put themself in danger
6. To take bread at my hand; and now they range,
7. Busily seeking with a continual change.
• The speaker tries to make sense of the major change that has happened in his life and the behavior
of those around him. They "they" from line 1 (again, the speaker's lovers—though this hasn't been
revealed yet) used to be "gentle, tame, and meek" in his presence, but now they have learned to
be "wild." They don't remember that they used to "put themself in danger" just to "take bread at my
hand."
• Taking a bite of bread is something a bird or other small creature may do. The speaker thus
continues to use motifs of animals and hunting as he describes his situation; he used to be the one
in control and with power over these docile creatures that visited him.
• While "gentle, tame, and meek" might seem repetitive, in that these three adjectives mean
something similar, "gentle" also specifically relates to social etiquette and status (e.g., being a
"gentleman"). In Henry VIII's court, social mores and manners were almost like a kind of currency.
The three adjectives—in their similarity—also suggest gentleness, the speaker here willing to linger
on a sentiment in a way that suggests the lovers' prior willingness to spend time in the speaker's
chamber.
3. I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek,
4. That now are wild and do not remember
5. That sometime they put themself in danger
6. To take bread at my hand; and now they range,
7. Busily seeking with a continual change.
• The mention of "danger," meanwhile, suggests that there was something illicit about the relationship
between the speaker and these women (fun fact: it's thought that Wyatt had an affair with Anne
Boleyn, one of Henry's many wives over the years).
• Lines 6 and 7 continue the comparison between two different times—now and then—with the
speaker describing how these once-tame lovers now "range." Like big cats hunting for prey, the exlovers traverse the terrain—in this case the upper heights of royal society—searching for their next
conquest. Though the speaker was perhaps once at the top of the metaphorical food chain, now
women are on the prowl.
• The enjambment of many of these lines speeds things up and grants the poem a gently embittered
tone, as if the speaker has just started talking passionately about a bugbear that is close to his
heart. The speaker laments the fact that these women have forgotten how well he treated them—
how he, within the extended metaphor of love and sex as a kind of hunt, was once the predator,
not the prey. Now, everything has changed.
8. Thanked be fortune it hath been otherwise
9. Twenty times better; but once in special,
10. In thin array after a pleasant guise,
11. When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall,
• The speaker expresses gratitude that things used to be "better." That is, life wasn't always so bad. He
thanks "fortune" that "it"—life—was "Twenty times better," in fact. This could mean either that he is
thinking of multiple occasions in which things were better, or that he recalls one particular time
when "it" was so good that it was "twenty times" superior to life in the poem's present.
• Either way, he's using hyperbole—a statement that isn't meant altogether literally but shows the
strength of his feelings. Indeed, the phrase heightens the sense of disbelief that his romantic
situation could be so drastically different in one point in time compared to another.
• After "better," the poem takes a significant shift in direction. The speaker ceases talking in broad,
general terms about then and now and focuses on a specific memory. This shift is signalled by the
caesura in line 9, which is represented by a semi-colon. (Of course, it's important to note that
punctuation marks for poems dating from this time are often the work of editors and compilers,
added to the poem to help modern readers follow them more easily; see the Resources section of
the guide for examples of Wyatt's original writing.)
8. Thanked be fortune it hath been otherwise
9. Twenty times better; but once in special,
10. In thin array after a pleasant guise,
11. When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall,
• The turn in direction is clear: the speaker is sustained by one "special" memory, albeit a bittersweet
one. He recalls being visited by his lover, who was wearing a "thin array" (in other words, not much!)
and "a pleasant guise." This line sounds confusing, but "guise" simply means an outfit or dress; it can
also connote deception or a disguise, and may refer to a show or performance of some sort.
Essentially, the speaker is saying that there was some pleasant show—perhaps a performance, or
perhaps this lover herself was dressed or acting in a way the speaker found pleasing, putting on a
kind of show—and then swiftly revealed a "thin array," or skimpy getup.
• The poem varies the meter here to bring to life the image of someone expecting and anticipating
nakedness:
In thin | array | after | a pleas- | ant guise,
When her | loose gown | from her shoul- | ders did fall,
8. Thanked be fortune it hath been otherwise
9. Twenty times better; but once in special,
10. In thin array after a pleasant guise,
11. When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall,
• While the line 10—the first of the two quote above—fits neatly into the poem's general iambic
pentameter pattern (albeit with a trochee variation in the third foot), it's difficult to read the
following line as anything approaching the same meter. As the lover's "gown" falls in the memory of
the speaker's mind, so too does the iambic fabric of the poem's rhythm. This also suggests
excitement, the thrill and electricity of two people in an intimate embrace. The feet in the line
above are scanned here as pyrrhic (two unstressed syllables), spondee (two stressed syllables), and
two anapaests, but there is no single authoritative way to notate the meter. However the line is
scanned, its unusual meter demonstrates the power that this "special" memory still holds over the
speaker.
12. And she me caught in her arms long and small;
13. Therewithall sweetly did me kiss
14. And softly said, “Dear heart, how like you this?”
• The speaker pines after the intimacy he once shared with his lover. Back in this particularly "special"
time, she "caught" the speaker in her arms and kissed him. The fact that it is the woman rather than
the man doing the metaphorical "catching" deliberately reverses the usual gender expectations.
Though the speaker presented himself as powerful in the first stanza—the dangerous predator
holding out "bread" for "gentle, tame, and meek" women to take from his hand—here he implies
that his lover was actually the one in control.
• The end-stop after "small" creates a brief pause, capturing the charged silence of the moment
being described. The last two lines of the stanza use sibilance, consonance, and alliteration to
convey a gentleness as the lovers embrace:
Therewithall sweetly did me kiss
And softly said, “Dear heart, how like you this?”
12. And she me caught in her arms long and small;
13. Therewithall sweetly did me kiss
14. And softly said, “Dear heart, how like you this?”
• The soft sounds are meant to capture the tenderness of this embrace. At the same time, though the
lover's arms are "small" and her kisses sweet, it's clear that the speaker doesn't really have the upper
hand here since his lover is the one "catching," essentially seducing, him.
• The poem also subtly refers back to its extended hunting metaphor again in the use of "heart." Of
course, heart is the lover's term of endearment for the speaker. But a "hart" is also an old word for a
deer—and, specifically and appropriately enough, for a male deer. The speaker seems to have
gone from predator to prey.
15. It was no dream: I lay broad waking.
• For the speaker, the difference between how things are
now (in the poem's present) and how they used to be is so
16. But all is turned thorough my gentleness
stark as to resemble the difference between real life and
17. Into a strange fashion of forsaking;
dreams. He adamantly denies that the memory described
in the second stanza was a dream, the caesura after
18. And I have leave to go of her
"dream" adding emphasis to his insistence that he "lay
goodness,
broad waking." The mention of being awake also hints at
19. And she also, to use newfangleness.
another reason for lack of sleep, of course: the intimacy
between himself and his lover!
20. But since that I so kindly am served
21. I would fain know what she hath
deserved.
• With the above in mind, the fact that the speaker needs to
affirm that the memory is true shows just how much things
have changed. Now, "all is turned" into something else and
the speaker in truth isn't sure how to feel. He senses that his
earlier "gentleness" has resulted in his "forsaking"—that is,
that he failed to assert himself and has since fallen out of
his lover's favor. Perhaps he was too eager to please.
• Now, he perceives in his ex-lover/lovers a new "fashion of
forsaking," as though the latest trend is to avoid him and
seek other partners. The two alliterating /f/ sounds function
like ornaments here, marking out "forsaking" as the latest
must-have accessory (or in this case, social behavior).
15. It was no dream: I lay broad waking.
16. But all is turned thorough my gentleness
17. Into a strange fashion of forsaking;
18. And I have leave to go of her
goodness,
19. And she also, to use newfangleness.
20. But since that I so kindly am served
21. I would fain know what she hath
deserved.
• Now, the speaker has implicit permission from his exlover to do as he pleases. She, for her part, appears
to have given herself the liberty to "use
newfangleness"—basically, to be fickle without
remorse. She is like the lovers described in the first
stanza—"[b]usily seeking with a continual change,"
constantly looking for something new and exciting.
Perhaps her interest in the speaker was not as sincere
as it appeared, or perhaps she really did care about
the speaker but is able to move on quickly. Either
way, the speed with which people change their
minds and discard lovers clearly unnerves the
speaker.
• The poem's closing couplet ends in uncertainty.
Essentially, the speaker doesn't know how to feel. His
lover hasn't really done anything obviously wrong to
him, other than to avoid him. She seems to have
"kindly [...] served" him by not being explicit about a
break-up, but the fact that she "flee[s]" from him
seems ruthless too. In the end, the speaker simply has
no idea how he should respond, or what the ex-lover
"deserve[s]" from him now that they've parted.
‘THE INDIAN
BURYING GROUND’
C
(Philip Freneau)
About the poet
Known as the poet of the American Revolution, Philip
Freneau was influenced by both the political situation of his
time and the full, active life he led. He attended Princeton
University, where James Madison was his roommate, and
planned to become a minister. However, at Princeton he
became engaged in political debates with fellow students
and pursued his interest in writing. Freneau was torn
between his involvement in the social turmoil of his times
and the more solitary life of writing. After graduation, he
wrote a series of anti-British satires. In 1776 Freneau travelled
to the West Indies, where he studied navigation and wrote,
largely about his surroundings.
About the poet
In 1778 he returned to New Jersey, joined the militia, and
served as a ship’s captain. He was eventually captured by
the British and spent six weeks on a prison ship. By 1790,
Freneau had published two collections of poetry.
Encouraged by James Madison and Thomas Jefferson,
Freneau established a newspaper, the National Gazette, in
Philadelphia, which promoted Jefferson’s principles. By the
early 1800s, Freneau had retired to his farm to write essays
and poetry. As a journalist and poet, Freneau was prolific.
About the poet
His poetry covers a variety of subjects, including the political
situation, American Indians, nature, the sea, and naval
battles. His political poems are often satiric, but his nature
poetry is marked by lyricism and close observation of the
details of the American landscape. Freneau’s work displays
some of the characteristics of Romanticism—especially in its
close attention to, and feeling for, nature.
The title
The title of this poem presents the focus of the poet’s musings on
how different cultures regard death. Freneau’s interactions with
Native Americans and their beliefs challenged his own.
Theme: Culture, death and the
afterlife
Freneau contrasts Western ideas about death and the afterlife
with those of the Native Americans. His culture saw death as an
eternal sleep, while theirs saw it as a transition into another similar
life. Where we view death as an ending, they see it as a
transition. Freneau’s poem is his tribute to the Native American;
the simple purity of their culture being uncontaminated by the
complex sophistication of his. While he naturally values logic as
his own ‘Age of Reason’ demands, towards the end of the poem
he is charmed into a fantasy world of ancient Native American
legend. He embraces an alternative vision, a shadowy, magical
spirit-world on the other side of death.
1. In spite of all the learned have said,
2.
I still my old opinion keep;
3. The posture, that we give the dead,
4.
Points out the soul's eternal sleep.
• Begins with a challenge to traditional civilized/educated opinions. His opinion as he speaks to us
persuasively. The words ‘old opinion’ show us his conviction in his beliefs.
• The ‘we’ in line 3 refers to those who belong to the Western civilization. Those within this culture bury
their dead in a position similar to that of someone sleeping.
5. Not so the ancients of these lands—
6.
The Indian, when from life released,
7. Again is seated with his friends,
8.
And shares again the joyous feast.
• Referring to the Native Americans as ‘the ancients’ shows a level of reverence and respect for
these people.
• The euphemism for dying, written as being ‘released’ from life (line 6), alludes to the dead as being
liberated or freed.
• The Native Americans bury their dead seated (or standing) as if socializing with familiars. The
repetition of the word ‘again’ suggests that this is an ongoing action – not abandoned after death.
9. His imaged birds, and painted bowl,
10.
And venison, for a journey dressed,
11. Bespeak the nature of the soul,
12.
Activity, that knows no rest.
• The Native Americans also buried their dead with traditional weapons and beloved artifacts (like
pottery) and food for a journey (similar to the Egyptians).
• It is implied that the dead will continue to follow the ‘nature of the soul’, meaning that death does
not represent an ending, but a transition.
• Again, ‘Activity’ in line 12 develops the idea that the soul is still active after death and does not
cease to exist or go to sleep.
13. His bow, for action ready bent,
14.
And arrows, with a head of stone,
15. Can only mean that life is spent,
16.
And not the old ideas gone.
• The dead are buried with a bow, the assumption being that they would want to hunt postmortem.
• Line 14 begins with the word ‘And’ which develops the theme of continuation.
• Note the contrast between ‘headstone’ which is typically used to mark gravesites and the arrow
with ‘a head of stone’. It is not a mark of the stillness of death – cold and frozen. Instead, this flies
through the air to ensure his ongoing survival – energy and life.
• Line 15 and 16 restate the belief of the Native Americans which the poet felt superior to those of his
people, that mortal life ends but the soul continues.
17. Thou, stranger, that shalt come this way,
18.
No fraud upon the dead commit—
19. Observe the swelling turf, and say
20.
They do not lie, but here they sit.
• With this stanza, the poet’s mode of address changes from contemplative (thinking and pondering)
to imperative. The stanza warns against anyone who may stumble upon this culture to be
respectful. The assumption is that someone who is ignorant of the Native American culture and
customs may not understand the mounds which signify the graves.
• Note the use of the words ‘fraud’ and ‘lie’. These words represent a dishonorable act and
deception. Lie, however, has two meanings – to tell a lie or to lie down. This represents a play on
words in line 20.
25. Here still an aged elm aspires,
26.
Beneath whose far-projecting shade
27. (And which the shepherd still admires)
28.
The children of the forest played!
• There is a pause in the poem in which the poet romanticizes the possible surroundings experienced
by the Native Americans. He builds imagery of rustic charm, peace, and tranquility.
• Word play is utilized once more in line 25. ‘Spire’ is tall but to ‘Aspire’ is to reach upwards towards a
higher goal.
• This place is not viewed as creepy or odd and not a feared place (the children are not afraid) as
many graveyards are viewed within the Western culture.
29. There oft a restless Indian queen
30.
(Pale Shebah, with her braided hair)
31. And many a barbarous form is seen
32.
To chide the man that lingers there.
• ‘Pale Shebah’ related the Native American woman to Sheba, who is mentioned in the Old
Testament in the Bible. She was an Arabian/Ethiopian woman known for her beauty and wisdom
who met with Soloman. Note that indigenous women would have likely had lighter skin than those
from Arabia/Ethiopia.
• Wordplay is used in line 31, as ‘barbarous’ could refer to someone who is uncivilized or
ghostly/haunting.
• Line 32 implies a warning that anyone lingering nearby may see a ghost.
33. By midnight moons, o'er moistening dews;
34.
In habit for the chase arrayed,
35. The hunter still the deer pursues,
36.
The hunter and the deer, a shade
• Line 33 uses alliteration (m) to suggest an eerie humming sound – echoes of dreamlike ohantoms of
Native Americans dressed in hunting gear engaged in the pursuit of deer.
• ‘Still’ in line 35 highlights the continuous nature of the hunting. It did not stop in death, only
changed.
37. And long shall timorous fancy see
38.
The painted chief, and pointed spear,
39. And Reason's self shall bow the knee
40.
To shadows and delusions here.
• This stanza suddenly shifts to the future tense – developing the theme of continuation again.
• ‘timorous fancy’, or apprehensive interest will see the painted chief and pointed spear.
• The speaker suggests in line 39 and 40 that he, like any other rational thinker, will succumb to the
acknowledgement of the supernatural. The presence of unearthly spirits will become ‘real’ to all.
‘LONDON, 1802’
C
(William Wordsworth)
Introduction
"London, 1802" is a sonnet by William Wordsworth, one of the
most influential English Romantic Poets. The poem praises the
famous 17th-century poet John Milton and suggests that
England would be better off if it modeled itself after Milton
and the values of his era. Wordsworth composed the poem in
1802, shortly after returning to London from France, where he
witnessed the aftermath of the French Revolution. Comparing
France's somber social landscape to England's boisterous,
care-free atmosphere, Wordsworth composed "London, 1802"
as both a critique of his country and a celebration of its
former glory.
Summary
The speaker addresses John Milton and wishes the poet were
still alive, noting that England needs him because the country
has become like a swamp full of still water. To that end, things
like religion, militaristic pursuits, literature, home life, and the
country's economic glory no longer align with England's
prosperous history. The speaker suggests that he and his fellow
citizens have lost sight of everything but themselves, so he
calls upon Milton to uplift the people of England after
returning from the dead, hoping the famous poet will remind
British society of its values, how to live virtuously, and how to
recover its sense of liberation and strength.
Summary
Praising Milton, the speaker compares his soul to a star that
stood out from all others in the sky, adding that Milton's voice
sounded like the ocean. Still addressing Milton, the speaker
depicts him as possessing an intrinsic goodness and dazzling
sense of freedom that was worthy of heaven itself. With these
qualities, the speaker upholds, Milton led an ordinary life while
happily devoting himself to religion. But even with his godly
traits, Milton was never above even the most humbling
responsibilities.
Theme:
The Past and Societal Decline
In “London, 1802,” the speaker laments that 19th-century England
has failed to maintain certain standards. These standards, the
speaker believes, were perfectly exemplified by the 17th-century
poet John Milton, a writer widely admired for his artistic innovation,
religious devotion, and moral compass.
With this in mind, the speaker presents Milton as the model off of
which England should base itself, believing that the nation should
learn from Milton’s integrity in order to reverse what the speaker
sees as the country’s unfortunate decline. By celebrating Milton
and the values of a bygone era, then, the speaker criticizes 19thcentury England while upholding that the past can (and should)
inform the way people think about the present.
Theme:
The Past and Societal Decline
The speaker’s concerns about the present are closely tied to the
feeling that 19th-century England as a whole has become lazy and
complacent. Suggesting that the nation is now “stagnant,” the speaker
implies that England has lost touch with its core values. Unlike when
Milton was writing in the 17th century, the speaker upholds, the country
no longer thrives in the arts or uplifts its religious principles, having stalled
when it comes to “altar, sword, and pen” (religion, military pursuits, and
literature, respectively).
Accordingly, the speaker calls upon Milton to restore things like
“manners, virtue, freedom, [and] power” to the country, thereby
implying not only that Milton represents these traits, but also that these
are the very tenants that used to define England’s greatness. In this
way, the speaker celebrates the commendable aspects of the nation
(suggesting that the country is at least capable of virtue) while still
critiquing it for letting these things fall by the wayside.
Theme:
The Past and Societal Decline
Furthermore, the speaker believes that it shouldn’t be particularly
difficult for people to live up to Milton’s standards. This is because
these standards aren’t that high in the first place, which is why the
speaker chastises fellow citizens for failing to meet them. Milton, the
speaker notes, lived in a “common way,” suggesting that the virtue
he embodies isn’t actually all that rare, but rather unremarkable
and commonplace.
And yet, the speaker makes it clear that these values have
declined so much in British society that they are no longer
“common.” It should be relatively easy, the speaker implies, to live
like Milton. However, that it now seems extraordinary to exemplify
this kind of virtue underscores just how far British society has fallen
since Milton’s time.
Theme:
The Past and Societal Decline
The speaker calls attention to England’s societal decline in the
hopes of restoring the country, but “London, 1802” isn’t just about
refreshing the nation’s image. After all, the speaker also maintains
that leading a virtuous life leads to contentment. Indeed, the very
values that the speaker celebrates can create a sense of “cheerful
godliness.” This, in turn, means that British citizens have sabotaged
their own happiness by letting their values slip.
To regain this happiness, it seems, the speaker’s fellow citizens will
have to look to the past and learn from honorable figures like
Milton. With this in mind, Wordsworth’s speaker illustrates the
usefulness of turning to history for guidance, ultimately arguing that
doing so will improve individual lives as well as society at large.
1. Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour:
2. England hath need of thee: she is a fen
3. Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen,
• The speaker begins with apostrophe, calling out to the 17th-century poet John Milton. This is
startling for a few reasons. "London, 1802" is a sonnet composed primarily in iambic pentameter,
meaning its lines should have five sets of poetic feet that follow a da DUM rhythm. But this opening
line is jarring because it begins with a trochee—DUM da, the inversion of an iamb.
• Starting with "Milton!" jerks readers to attention, immediately inverting the unstressed-stressed
pattern of iambic pentameter by using a strong stressed-unstressed metrical foot. This trochee
("Milton!") is then followed by a strong caesura in the form of an exclamation mark. This pause only
adds to the emphasis placed on Milton's name, as if giving readers a moment to fully absorb the
importance of the speaker's address. Overall, this is an abrupt and alarming beginning, one that
communicates the speaker's passion—a passion that, in turn, communicates both a deep respect
for Milton and a sense of desperation, as if the speaker is frantically eager to communicate with
the famous poet.
• As the first line continues to unfold, it becomes clear why the speaker wants so badly to invoke
Milton. Indeed, the speaker wishes Milton were still alive, noting that England "need[s]" him. This
assertion alerts readers to the speaker's dim view of the country, ultimately suggesting that England
can't survive without the help of a long-dead poet.
1. Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour:
2. England hath need of thee: she is a fen
3. Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen,
• To that end, the speaker believes that England has become a "fen," which is a low, marshy body of
water. And, the speaker adds in the beginning of the third line, England is not just a fen, but a fen
"of stagnant waters"—a metaphor that depicts England as having lost its energy and momentum
("stagnant" means that something isn't moving).
• This is a rather straightforward metaphor that functions as a critique of England's lack of rigor or
progress, but it's also worth further examining the speaker's use of the word "fen." A fen is a
marshland, and marshlands frequently flood. With this in mind, the speaker subtly implies that the
general integrity of England has eroded, much like the muddy banks of a swamp that endures
periodic floods.
• It's also worth noting that the speaker's depiction of England as a "stagnant" swamp aligns with the
opposition many Romantic poets—like Wordsworth—felt toward the Industrial Revolution. Of
course, most people think of Industrialization as a period of growth, change, and progress, but the
speaker clearly sees it differently, suggesting that England "need[s]" a thoughtful poet like Milton to
restore it to its pre-Industrial ways. This implies that the speaker doesn't think the country has made
progress, but has stalled out despite its technological advancements and, more importantly, lost
something valuable along the way—something Milton could restore to the nation if only he were
still alive.
3. Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen,
4. Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower,
5. Have forfeited their ancient English dower
6. Of inward happiness. We are selfish men;
• Having established that England is no longer making meaningful progress, the speaker next lists all the
ways in which the country has lost touch with its former greatness.
• First, the speaker suggests that the country's religious devotion is in decline, using the word "altar" as a
metonym to refer to religion as a whole. Considering that Wordsworth was a Romantic poet whose
religious beliefs were intertwined with a deep appreciation of nature, it makes sense that the speaker
criticizes the state of religion during the Industrial Revolution, a time during which society focused on
mechanical and technological advancements instead of connecting with the natural world.
• Going on, the speaker employs other metonyms, using the word "sword" to stand for England's military and
"pen" to refer to the state of the country's literary output. In this way, the speaker suggests that the
fundamental pillars that often make nations successful have become weak in England at the turn of the
19th century. This statement comes immediately after the metaphor outlining that England has become
"stagnant." To break it down in plain language, then, the speaker maintains that religion, militaristic
pursuits, and literature have ceased all progress in England—a viewpoint that aligns with the Romantic
belief that England is in decline despite its technological advancements.The idea that "altar, sword, and
pen" have come to a standstill is made evident by the fact that this list appears after a colon in the middle
of line 3, suggesting that all three of these are examples of the ways in which England has become a "fen"
of "stagnant waters."
3. Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen,
4. Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower,
5. Have forfeited their ancient English dower
6. Of inward happiness. We are selfish men;
• The speaker also expands upon this idea in lines 4-6 by upholding that England has given up its
economic power. Using "fireside" to refer to the country's average domestic situation, the speaker
argues that home life in England is no longer characterized by the "heroic wealth" that used to be
recognizable in citizens' impressive, respectable homes ("hall and bower"). That the speaker calls the
riches of the past "heroic" is especially illustrative, since this phrase frames England's economic history
as not only wealthy, but illustrious and inspiring. Consequently, the speaker reveals a strong nostalgia
for the past.
• It is perhaps because of this affinity for the past that the speaker develops a disparaging tone,
suggesting that England hasn't simply lost its former glory, but "forfeited" it. This implies that the nation
has actively given up the values that (according to the speaker) have always made it powerful and
admirable. Worse, this means that the people of England have relinquished their capacity to
experience personal happiness, which should come naturally to them simply because they are
citizens of a country with a rich, respectable history.It is this history, the speaker argues, from which
citizens should benefit, since they have inherited it like a husband who collects a dowry after
marrying a wealthy bride. Unfortunately, though, the speaker believes that the people of England
have lost touch with the past and, thus, made it impossible for themselves to benefit from the
country's otherwise rewarding history.
6. Of inward happiness. We are selfish men;
7. Oh! raise us up, return to us again;
• The speaker continues to disparage the people of England in 1802, this time suggesting that they are
"selfish." For the first time, though, the poem isn't just a critique of England, since it implicates the
speaker, too. Indeed, the line, "We are selfish men" includes the speaker, thereby illustrating that the
country's decline has had an effect on all of its citizens, even those who are (like the speaker) aware
of the ways in which British society has fallen from greatness. This, it seems, is why the speaker is so
eager to address this problem. Because the people of England have become so "selfish," the
speaker wants Milton to "raise" them, helping them achieve a more humble and rewarding lifestyle.
• By imploring Milton to do this, the speaker's reverence for the famous poet becomes even more
pronounced. To that end, the line, "Oh! raise us up, return to us again," makes it clear that this poem
isn't just a celebration of Milton's poetry. By saying this, the speaker addresses Milton as if he’s a savior
capable of returning from the dead to help the masses, thereby treating him like a religious figure,
perhaps someone similar to Jesus Christ. In this moment, then, the speaker's reverence for Milton
approaches the point of spiritual worship, and this only further emphasizes the extent to which the
speaker respects the values Milton represents.
8. And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
• Having expressed a seemingly spiritual reverence for Milton, the speaker lists the values that the
famous poet embodied. The speaker has already mentioned the specific institutions and practices
that have declined since Milton's time (including religion, the military, and literature), but now the
poem focuses on broader, more comprehensive matters.
• Addressing Milton directly once again (more apostrophe), the speaker asks him to teach the people
of England "manners, virtue, freedom, power." By asking for this, the speaker implies that these are
the things 19th-century England lacks and that only somebody like Milton—a man from another era
who was known for his discipline, religious devotion, innovation, and influence—could ever remind
Englanders how to recapture the very traits that used to define the nation. The use of asyndeton in
this list also makes it seem like it could perhaps continue on and on—that there are endless virtues
that Englanders have lost and must regain.
8. And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
• The scope of the speaker's focus here is quite wide, ranging from small everyday behaviors
("manners") to larger, more philosophical concerns about "virtue" and "freedom." By asking Milton to
help the people of England reacquaint themselves with both normal and lofty ways of moving
through the world, then, the speaker indicates that British society needs a complete overhaul, one
that would not only change how people live their daily lives, but also impact the moral core of the
nation.
• In order to accomplish this, England will have to look beyond itself, as even people like the speaker
who are aware of society's decline find themselves turning to the great minds of history instead of
instigating change themselves. As a result, the poem implies that England must reflect upon its past
in order to move forward and regain its former strength.
9. Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart:
10. Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea:
11. Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free,
• In the poem's ninth line, the speaker transitions from focusing on 19th-century England and its many
disappointments to focusing on Milton's many positive attributes. The poem's form is important here. Again,
this is a sonnet, and its stanza can be broken down into an initial eight-line octave and then a six-line
sestet. Typically, this sestet offers some sort of turn in the poem, perhaps a response or counter to the
previous lines. This is true here. Whereas the octave that begins "London, 1802" outlines the ways in which
British society is in decline, the sestet (beginning with the ninth line) cements the idea that adopting
Milton's values will solve England's problems.
• Beginning the sestet with a simile that compares saying Milton's soul to "a Star," the speaker once more
portrays him as if he's larger than life, elevating him beyond the level of a well-known poet. According to
this mindset, Milton becomes a celestial being, and readers see the extent to which the speaker idolizes
him, especially when the speaker adds that Milton's soul "dwelt apart"—a statement that suggests that
Milton was unmatched and unique.
• In fact, it is because Milton's soul was so unique that the speaker now calls upon him, knowing that nobody
in 19th-century England possesses Milton's qualities—qualities the speaker believes necessary in order to
restore British society to what it once was. As if to emphasize the fact that Milton was and perhaps always
will be unmatched, the speaker presents another simile comparing Milton's voice to the sea, thereby
associating Milton's poetry with a raw and natural power. The use of asyndeton again in line 11 ("naked
heavens, majestic, free") picks up the poem's pace, implying the speaker's readiness and excitement to
praise Milton's character.
9. Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart:
10. Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea:
11. Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free,
• The author of Paradise Lost, John Milton had a profound influence on literature, using epic poetry to
reimagine the Biblical story of Adam and Eve and their expulsion from Eden. Given that Paradise Lost
was already considered a pivotal and influential piece of poetry by the time Wordsworth wrote
"London, 1802," it makes sense that this poem's speaker presents Milton—and specifically his voice—
as so powerful.
• More than that, though, the poem attributes a sense of purity to Milton, deeming him worthy of
heaven while also associating him with elements of the natural world. For instance, the idea that
Milton's soul was like a star can be interpreted as a sign that he was a celestial being who was larger
than life, but this simile also ties him to elements of the natural world (or, in this case, the natural
universe). In this way, he takes on both divine and naturalistic qualities.
• As a Romantic poet, Wordsworth believed that divinity could be found in the natural world itself. This
is why the speaker admires Milton's spirituality alongside his connection to nature, portraying him as
both heavenly and grounded in nature. In the same way that Wordsworth sees spirituality and
nature as one, then, the speaker's seemingly nonreligious celebration of Milton eventually comes to
resemble holy worship, exemplifying the tendency in Romantic poetry to elevate respect and
appreciation to the level of the divine.
12. So didst thou travel on life's common way,
13. In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart
• "London, 1802" applauds Milton's purity, morality, and general integrity. In these lines, though, the
speaker suggests that the many qualities that deem Milton worthy of praise aren't quite as
extraordinary as readers might think. In fact, the speaker notes that Milton traveled "on life's common
way," indicating that Milton's virtue should be seen as ordinary.
• Throughout the poem, the speaker has treated Milton as unique and unmatched, but it now
becomes clear that the speaker expects everyone to demonstrate the same virtues as the revered
poet. In this sense, Milton deserves praise not necessarily because he was better than everyone else,
but because he managed to live a normal, commonplace life while maintaining admirable values.
• This sentiment shines through when the speaker adds that Milton not only traveled "on life's common
way," but did so "in cheerful godliness," highlighting the fact that Milton moved through everyday life
with an unbothered and happy kind of piety. This means that Milton was able to weather life's many
mundanities and disappointments without ever letting his religious beliefs or commitment slip.
• Considering that "London, 1802" is a critique of England's inability to maintain its values, Milton's
unwavering devotion to his spiritual beliefs serves as an important reminder that people should
always remain true to their guiding principles—even when leading unremarkable, ordinary lives.
13. In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart
14. The lowliest duties on herself did lay.
• As the poem concludes, the speaker draws a contrast between Milton's "cheerful godliness" and the fact
that he willingly took on difficult and unglamorous burdens. Having already considered the nature of
Milton's soul (likening it to a unique and individual star), the speaker now personifies the famous poet's
heart, presenting it as a woman who never turns away from even the "lowliest," most humbling "duties."
• This aligns with line 12's assertion that Milton traveled "on life's common way" but never let this interfere with
his ability to embrace a sense of unbothered piety, proving himself capable of withstanding life's many
difficulties without losing sight of his values. This, it seems, is partially due to his heart, which never shies
away from tasks that others might consider beneath them. In fact, the speaker uses a reflexive phrase in
the last line, noting that Milton's heart puts "the lowliest duties" on itself (or on "herself," to continue the
speaker's personification of the heart as a woman). This suggests that Milton not only puts up with life's
various difficulties, but actively and knowingly takes on such challenges.
• It's worth noting that Milton composed Paradise Lost while living in poverty. By that point in his life, he was
fully blind and therefore had to dictate the entire epic poem, making for a long and arduous process that
lasted six years. Because the speaker of "London, 1802" respects Milton so deeply and sees him as an
embodiment of all things good, it's reasonable to argue that the speaker regards Paradise Lost as a
difficult project that Milton took upon himself in order to benefit others.
• Under this interpretation, the epic poem is a product of Milton's willingness to take on even the "lowliest
duties," (like dictating complicated verse for six years while living in poverty) in the service of a greater
good: the literary arts and their engagement with Christianity.
13. In cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart
14. The lowliest duties on herself did lay.
• More generally, though, the praise the speaker directs toward Milton's heart touches upon the
simple idea that greatness isn't always glamorous. To that end, there are certain responsibilities that
come with greatness, an idea accentuated by the emphasis placed on the word "duties" in the
middle of the final line. In the context of this line, the word's first syllable ("du-") forms the stressed
syllable of an anapest (da da DUM). The line scans like this:
The lowliest duties on herself did lay.
• Because "London, 1802" is primarily in iambic pentameter (recall that an iamb has a da DUM beat
pattern), readers might expect another iamb to follow the first metrical foot. Instead, though, the
speaker delays the next stressed syllable, making it all the more significant when it finally lands on the
first half of "duties." As a result, the speaker calls attention to the notion that living virtuously often
means accepting humbling and challenging responsibilities.
• Given that the poem chastises British society for failing to live up to the standards of Milton's era, it
becomes evident that the speaker believes 19th-century England has stopped embracing the
"lowl[y] duties" that Milton unflinchingly took upon himself. In turn, the country has become a pool of
"stagnant waters" out of a lack of not just virtue, but also humility.
‘AMAGODUKA AT
GLENCOE STATION’
C
(Mbuyiseni Oswald Mtshali)
The Poet
• Born in Kwabhanya (Vryheid) in Kwa-Zulu Natal in 1940, Mbuyiseni Oswald Mtshali is on
of South Africa’s most respected poets.
• He won the Olive Schreiner award in 1974 for his collection of poems, Sounds of a
Cowhide Drum. From humble beginnings as a messenger in Johannesburg, Mtshali
made his way to America where he studied at the University of Iowa. On returning to
South Africa he taught at Soweto’s Pace Commercial College, and for a time, worked
for the South African council of churches. Mtshali returned to America to study at
Columbia University where he earned a PhD and taught there, before returning to
Soweto where he lives today. His second volume of poems, Fireflames, was published in
1980, but his dedication to the school children of Soweto, who revolted against the
apartheid government in 1976, resulted in it being banned.
The Poet
• His focus in recent years has been on his Zulu language and culture, and in 2012, his first
collection of poems was translated into his own vernacular: Mtshali’s childhood in a
poor household in a farming and coal-mining town under the restrictions of apartheid,
inform his writing. On moving to Soweto, he was further impacted in being confronted
with the cold realities of urban life for black people. He encountered many different
cultures in the melting-pot that was ‘old’ Soweto, in a time of great turmoil and shared
all-consuming poverty. Inevitably these negative conditions exploded into violence
which intensified in the 1980s until the National government finally capitulated and
negotiated a new South Africa with the first free and fair elections in 1994.
The title
• The term, ‘Amagoduka’ basically means ‘those who are going back to their real
homes’ and Mtshali’s choice of this title focuses attention of the temporary nature of
the lives of such transients and other black people who were only permitted to ‘visit’
white centres of industry and business as labourers. In his poem, migrant male workers
are travelling by train to the gold mines of the Witwatersrand.
The Theme
• Here we contemplate the problematic impacts of migrant labour and the loss of
identity that emanated from this transitory existence. The speaker does not directly tell
us how tragic and bitter this situation was, he merely paints a picture of their
circumstances which guides us to this conclusion. These people over time became
estranged from their place of birth. Yet, their spirit was not broken nor was their pride in
their culture any less.
1 We travelled a long journey
2 through the wattle forests of Vryheid,
3 crossed the low-levelled Blood River
4 whose water flowed languidly
5 as if distorted for the
• Note that the poet uses the pronoun ‘we’ in
line one. This gives us the sense that he
identifies with his fellow travellers – he is part
of a collective with shared experiences.
• ‘wattle forests’ consist of Acacia trees.
Acacia trees are not indigenous. As it usually
is with non-native species, the lack of
population control allows them to grow
greatly in number and take up resources that
would’ve been used by native species. This
could be commentary on the colonisers that
they also move amongst.
• Lune 3 gives us the idea that drought
prevails. The water is hardly flowing. This is the
first reference to the poor conditions that
caused people to leave their land for cities in
search of work.
• Note the simile/personification in lines 4 and
5. The river’s lack of energy signifies general
despair – nature too feels as the speaker
does.
6 shattered glory of my ancestors.
7 We passed the coalfields on Dundee –
8 blackheads in the wrinkled face
9 of Northern Zululand –
10 until our train ultimately came
11 to a hissing stop at Glencoe
• Line 6 refers to the Battle of Blood River. This
battle was fought between about 10 000
Zulus and 464 Voortrekkers in 1838 which
marked a bitter defeat for Dingaan.
• Line 7 brings attention to the pollution
caused by mining which had destroyed the
natural beauty of the area. It may also serve
as commentary on the greed of colonists.
• Line 8 again uses personification of nature.
Blackheads are blemishes of imperfections
which are often filled with pus, which gives us
the idea that the poet is revolted by an
imperfection plaguing this nature.
12 Many people got off
13 leaving the enraged train
14 to snort and charge at the night
15 on its way to Durban.
16 The time was 8 p.m.
• Line 13 and 14 creates a metaphor which
implies a comparison between the train and
an angry bull making a great show of its bad
temper. The exaggeration suggests the
speaker finds it ridiculous. The speaker is
amused as the train appears to him to aim its
assault on the night which is futile and
pointless considering the night is a state of
nature and intangible.
• Line 16 exists in isolation because the speaker
us creating a space/time reference. It is night
and they are not in their homes but
somewhere surrounded by darkness. It seems
the travellers are trapped in limbo – the
poem has frozen time here at Glencoe
Station.
17 I picked up my suitcase,
18 sagging under the weight of a heavy
overcoat
19 I shambled to the ‘non-European Males’
waiting room
20 The room was crowded
21 the air hung, a pall of choking odour,
22 rotten meat, tobacco, and sour beer
• In this stanza, the speaker switches to first
person, now sharing his experience as an
individual. Apartheid strictly segregated
people on the trains and signs indicated who
went where. He notes this without
commenting but assonance of sagging and
shambled suggests an attitude of derision
and resentment. Note ‘males’ is used instead
of men, this creates an emasculating effect,
as it removes their humanity.
• Lines 20-22 present a very powerful
description which includes a sense of smell. A
suffocating smell shrouds the room. ‘pall’ also
hints at cloth over a body at a funeral, a
deadly image.
23 Windows were shut tight
24 against the sharp bite of winter.
25 Amagoduka sat on bare floor
26 their faces sucking the warmth
27 of the coal fire crackling in the corner
• Lines 23 and 24 contains assonance in the
words ‘tight’ and ‘bite of winter’ which
suggest clenched teeth chattering in the
cold.
• The speaker moves from ‘we’ (first person
plural) to ‘I’ (first person singular) and then
here to ‘their’ (line 26) which is in third-person
plural. This implies that he is observing the
Amagoduka in a detached and removed
manner, but his empathy is still implied.
• The personification of winter having people in
a painful grip is another example of the poet
viewing nature as a person.
• Note when reading line 25 the meaning of
Amagoduka (those going home).
• Lines 26 and 27 present a metaphor in how
their faces are ‘sucking the warmth’. They
are thirsting for the warmth.
28 They chewed dried bread
29 scooped corned beef with rusty knives,
30 and drank mqombothi from the plastic can
31 which they passed from mouth to mouth
32 They spoke animatedly
33 and laughed in thunderous peals.
34 A girl peeped through the door,
35 they shuddered at the sudden cold blast,
36 jumped up to fondle and leer at her.
• Poverty in indicated in the food – dry bread,
no proper cutlery or implements, tinned
meat. But there is a hint of pride in the Zulu
name for the traditional beer brewed from
maize. The intimacy of sharing in the
community ‘mouth to mouth’ like
resuscitation they revive and restore one
another.
• Lines 32 and 33 show how undaunted the
Amagoduka are at their situation. The
metaphor in line 33 shows a comparison to a
powerful natural force which suggests the
strength of their spirit.
• Lines 34-36 display what is considered very
coarse male behaviour. The poet wishes for
us to regard them as hot-blooded,
passionate people. Line 36 is sexually
suggestive.
37 Hau! ngena Sis – Oh! Come in sister!
38 She shied like a frightened filly
39 banged the door and bolted.
They broke into tumultuous laughter
‘A MARTIAN SENDS
A POSTCARD HOME’
C
(Craig Raine)
Introduction
Craig Raine's "A Martian Sends a Postcard Home" is
probably the best-known example of "Martian
poetry," a British movement from the 1970s and
1980s. Its speaker, as the title suggests, is a Martian
visiting Earth. Reporting back to Mars, the speaker
describes various things on our planet—including
rain, clocks, and dreams—from an alien perspective,
making everyday phenomena seem strange. The
poem's metaphors and imagery cast human life in
an unexpected light; at times, the Martian's
descriptions even feel like puzzles for the reader. "A
Martian Sends a Postcard Home" was collected in
Raine's 1980 volume of the same title.
Introduction
• Books, which were first printed by William Caxton,
are shaped like birds; each page is like a wing.
There are words inside books, some of which are
special.
• Sometimes those words make readers cry, laugh, or
make other exclamations.
• These birds don't actually fly, but I have seen them
rest in readers' hands the same way real birds
perch on trees.
• When there's mist outside, it's like the sky wants to
settle onto the ground because it got tired of
holding itself in the air.
Introduction
• Mist makes the world grow dim and blurry, like the
atmosphere of a dark library, recalling the way
engravings seem softer when viewed through a
sheet of tissue.
• When it rains, the world looks like imperfect images
on TV. The rain makes colors dimmer.
• Cars, like Ford's Model T, resemble rooms that you
lock when you get inside. When you turn the key,
the world starts moving.
• Outside the window, it looks like a movie displays
the world passing by as you drive.
Introduction
• Humans keep time through watches on wrists, or
through clocks that tick constantly, as if waiting for
something.
• At home, humans have devices—telephones—that
seem haunted by ghosts. When humans pick up
these devices, they make noise that sounds like
snoring.
• When they ring, humans silence the ring by raising
the phone to their face to talk, so that they seem
to be lulling the phone to sleep.
• At other times, however, humans activate phones
by touching them with their fingers, as though
tickling them.
Introduction
• Children can cry (or relieve themselves) openly, but
adults can only express their pain (or relieve
themselves) in private.
• All adults have to visit the bathroom, which is a
room with water but no food. Once inside, they
lock the door and suffer an experience that is
painful and smelly—so unpleasant that it seems like
a form of punishment.
• At night, when it's dark out, humans sleep in rooms
together, two to a bed.
• When they dream, it's like they're reading books
about themselves. The stories they experience
have color, even though their eyes are closed.
Theme: The Power of Perspective
• As the poem’s title reveals, Raine’s speaker is a Martian writing a
letter home (that is, back to Mars) about what they have witnessed
on Earth. By describing Earth from a Martian’s perspective, Raine
makes human activity seem strange and alien. To this Martian
speaker, even the most mundane parts of modern life—from
answering the phone to going to the bathroom—seem weird or
downright inexplicable. At the same time, the Martian’s surprising,
imaginative metaphors for rain, books, dreaming, and other
everyday phenomena might encourage a deeper appreciation of
things that people take for granted. In this way, the poem speaks to
the power of perspective, demonstrating how seeing the world
through fresh, unfamiliar eyes can cast life in a new light.
• Throughout the poem, the Martian describes the human world in a
way that makes everyday life seem odd and unfamiliar. For
example, the Martian compares books to birds and a Model T to a
“room with a lock inside,” in which turning the key makes the world
passing by become a movie. And, presumably in reference to
wristwatches and clocks, the Martian says that “time is tied to the
wrist” or “kept in a box.”
Theme: The Power of Perspective
• It’s not just human-made objects that seem strange to
the speaker either, but the Earth itself. Rain, for example,
is something that makes “colours darker” (i.e., by getting
them wet), while mist looks like the sky settling onto the
ground to “rest.” The speaker seems especially confused
by human bodily functions, describing crying as the eyes
“melt[ing]” and calling the bathroom as a “punishment
room” where adults “suffer the noises alone.”
• All the Martian's descriptions are funny and strange, yet
each also has some element of truth. Readers can
recognize what the Martian is talking about, even if they
would never describe these things in the same way. In
defamiliarizing the world, then, the Martian might prompt
readers to reevaluate modern life—to see everyday
objects and events a little differently.
Theme: The Power of Perspective
• The speaker’s description of watches and clocks, for
instance, might make readers wonder why humans are
so beholden to, or think that they can contain and
control, time. Likewise, the speaker’s description of a
cellphone as a “haunted apparatus,” which “snores,”
“cries,” and wakes up when tickled, makes humans’
relationships to our phones seem even more absurd, as
though these devices were babies or pets. And when
the speaker notes that “Only the young are allowed to
suffer openly,” readers might wonder why human culture
pushes adults to suffer in silence.
Theme: The Power of Perspective
• Raine’s poem isn’t necessarily meant to criticize modern
society. Rather, it shows how a shift in perspective can
offer new insight into, and perhaps an appreciation of,
even the most mundane parts of life. To that end, many
of the Martian’s descriptions are quite beautiful and
profound: rain is the earth being transformed into
“television”; the world viewed through car mirrors is a
“film”; and dreams are colorful books about people’s
own lives.
• At the same time, the Martian hints at the importance of
approaching other cultures with an open mind. What
seems normal to one society (in this case, Western
human civilization) might seem totally weird to another
(visitors from Mars). Similar contrasts in perspective can
apply across human societies; the difference between
human and Martian is just an extreme example.
1. Caxtons are mechanical birds with many wings
2. and some are treasured for their markings –
• The very first word of the poem reveals that this speaker is unusual. The Martian calls books
"Caxtons," referring to William Caxton, the English merchant, diplomat, and writer who introduced
the printing press to England in 1476. Without that background knowledge, however, the reader
might not realize right away that the speaker is talking about books, because the metonymy of
"Caxtons" for "books" is unusual and rather vague.
• The metaphor that follows compares books to "mechanical birds"—the word "mechanical" alluding
again to the printing press—whose pages resemble "many wings." From this description, it becomes
clear that the speaker has virtually no familiarity with human civilization, let alone with inventions as
old as books. The speaker can merely observe the shape of books and notice that they have
"markings"—words or pictures, presumably—that elicit various reactions. Some markings cause
humans to "treasure" certain books, the speaker notes, while others cause humans to cry or laugh.
• From the very first stanza, then, it's obvious that the speaker doesn't come from Earth. The Martian's
tone is blunt; even if they seem to speak in metaphor, they don't seem interested in rhetorical or
poetic flourishes, but rather in sharing information. After all, they jump right into these observations
about "Caxtons," offering no context beyond the poem's title. Presumably, this first description and
everything that follows are the speaker's attempt to report on the human world to Martian readers.
However, the speaker's strange word choices turn the poem into a kind of puzzle.
3. they cause the eyes to melt
4. or the body to shriek without pain.
• The second stanza reveals that the speaker isn't just unfamiliar with human objects, like books, but
also with human behavior. The Martian describes crying as the eyes melting. Although most people
would never think of crying in this way, the Martian's description is close enough to reality to be
recognizable: when humans cry, it does look like our eyes are melting. Again, the Martian's direct
tone might prompt the reader to do a double-take, to realize for the first time that crying is a rather
strange human behavior.
• When books aren't making humans cry, the Martian notes, they can cause "the body to shriek
without pain." Here, it's not clear whether the Martian refers to the amusement or sadness that
humans can experience while reading. This may be a description of laughter, for example, or simply
of an intense emotional reaction.
• More importantly, the Martian seems to find it strange that humans can have physical reactions to
the "markings" in books, even if nothing actually happens to their physical bodies. Through this line,
the Martian offers an interesting critique of the human psyche, inviting the reader to view
psychology from a new perspective. It is curious, after all, that humans display their emotions
outwardly, even when those emotions come merely from "markings" in books.
5. I have never seen one fly, but
6. sometimes they perch on the hand.
• In the third stanza, the Martian completes their description of books, or "Caxtons." They speak in the
first person for the first and only time in the poem: "I have never seen one fly."
• By using the word "I," the speaker introduces their personal voice; even if the reader can't picture
what the Martian looks like, now the Martian at least has an embodied, individual self. In other
words, the Martian is evidently on Earth, observing human life with their own eyes, and the poem is
a document of those observations.
• Continuing to compare books with birds, the speaker notes that these "birds" never seem to fly—a
ridiculous statement to humans, who know that books obviously cannot fly, but another hint that this
Martian views earthly objects from an alien perspective.
• In line 6, the speaker notes that books sometimes "perch on the hand," just as birds perch on
branches. The speaker may not intend to sound imaginative (or metaphorical), but the idea of
books perching like birds might prompt the reader to see the act of reading in a fresh, joyful way—
to draw new connections between nature and humanity, for example. In describing an object that
humans take for granted, the speaker offers an outsider's perspective that may inspire new ways of
imagining the world.
7. Mist is when the sky is tired of flight
8. and rests its soft machine on ground:
9. then the world is dim and bookish
10. like engravings under tissue paper.
• Turning now to the natural world, the Martian attempts to describe "Mist." Mist often looks like a
cloud, or a piece of the sky, that has fallen to ground level. Accordingly, the Martian writes:
Mist is when the sky is tired of flight
and rests its soft machine on ground.
• Just as the speaker imagined that books could fly, they now imagine the sky as something in flight—
at least, until it gets tired and "rests" on Earth. This description makes the sky seem alive, like an
animal or human, since the Martian endows the sky with feelings of fatigue. To the Martian, the
world must seem very lively and dynamic: a place where even the sky can experience weariness.
(Notice that poets, too, often ascribe human feelings to nonhuman things, through devices such as
personification and the pathetic fallacy.)
7. Mist is when the sky is tired of flight
8. and rests its soft machine on ground:
9. then the world is dim and bookish
10. like engravings under tissue paper.
• The speaker uses the word "machine" to describe mist, recalling the "mechanical birds" metaphor in
line 1. The Martian seems particularly interested in the texture of earthly things, and they draw
unexpected connections between books and the natural world. Mist makes the world appear "dim
and bookish," according to the Martian, "like engravings under tissue paper." For some reason, the
Martian seems preoccupied with printing, or the mechanical process of creating words and images
on solid material; in the first five stanzas, the Martian spends a surprising amount of time discussing
books, machines, engravings, and paper.
• Through this image of "engravings under tissue paper," the Martian aptly portrays the mood and
appearance of a misty day. Mist causes the world to look blurry and soft, just as an engraving will
look blurrier when covered with tissue paper. For someone who thinks books are birds, the Martian
seems quite familiar with the atmosphere and textures you might find in an old library. Regardless,
the Martian's descriptions of earthly weather are imaginative and poetic, inviting the reader to
consider everyday phenomena from a fresh perspective.
11. Rain is when the earth is television.
12. It has the property of making colours darker.
• As in the previous description of mist (the sky's "soft machine"), the Martian offers a new way to think
about rain. According to the Martian, "Rain is when the earth is television."
• This metaphor makes little sense if taken at face value; humans know that rain and TV have little to
do with each other. Step back, however, and it's clear what the Martian means. Rain animates the
world, filling everything with action and motion. Like TV, it can be entertaining, transforming the
world into a lively scene that people enjoy watching (e.g., from windows). Sometimes, rain might
even look like static on a broken TV set, making the world flicker and blur. In one brief sentence, the
Martian presents an entirely fresh take on weather.
• The Martian also notices that rain "has the property of making colours darker," presumably referring
to the fact that objects look darker when wet. The Martian's phrasing here—"has the property of"—
sounds almost scientific, suggesting that the speaker studies Earth like a scientist taking notes on an
unfamiliar environment. The short, one-line sentences in this stanza further add to the tone of
scientific objectivity. Above all, this tone underscores the speaker's distance from the things they
describe: to the Martian, the human world is an alien subject.
13. Model T is a room with the lock inside –
14. a key is turned to free the world
15. for movement, so quick there is a film
16. to watch for anything missed.
• The Martian's description of a car is particularly odd. Just as the Martian called books "Caxtons,"
after the man who introduced the printing press to England, they now use metonymy to identify
cars as "Model T," referencing the Ford automobile considered the first affordable car.
• The Martian's tendency to call inventions by their original version shows a mix of familiarity and
unfamiliarity with the human world. On the one hand, the Martian knows that Model T was the first
popular car in America. On the other hand, the Martian doesn't know that humans now call later
versions of this machine either "automobiles" or "cars." It seems as if the Martian has collected many
facts about Earth, but lacks a coherent understanding of human life. The result is a quirky framing of
objects most people take for granted.
13. Model T is a room with the lock inside –
14. a key is turned to free the world
15. for movement, so quick there is a film
16. to watch for anything missed.
• The Martian also describes cars as "a room with the lock inside." As with the Martian's other
metaphors, this line isn't strictly metaphorical; cars are rooms of a kind, and you do turn a key once
you get inside. The Martian's perspective is flipped, however: they think the world becomes "free [...]
for movement" when you turn the key, when in fact it's the car that begins to move. Once again,
the Martian views the world as a show, describing how there is "a film to watch for anything missed."
In other words, the Martian seems to think that the windows and/or mirrors of the car display a film
of everything one "misses," or passes quickly, while driving. This idea again turns the mundane world
into entertainment, if one only learns to experience a car ride with the open-minded innocence of
a Martian.
17. But time is tied to the wrist
18. or kept in a box, ticking with impatience.
• At this point in the poem, the speaker turns to more critical descriptions of human behavior—though
each description remains at least somewhat ambiguous, so it's not clear whether the Martian is
ridiculing humanity or just making uninformed observations.
• Line 17 begins with the word "But," indicating this shift in tone and subject. First, the speaker discusses
time. According to the speaker, time takes two forms: "tied to the wrist," in watches, and "kept in a
box," or in clocks, where it's constantly "ticking with impatience." Enjambment between lines 17 and
18, as well as /t/ consonance in "time," "tied," "to," "wrist," "kept," and "ticking," links these lines into a
continuous statement about time. The repeated /t/ sounds even evoke the noise of a ticking clock.
• Implicitly, the speaker seems critical of humans' attachment to time—our need to keep time on our
wrists and in devices that make impatient-seeming sounds, so that we can never forget time's
passage. The Martian doesn't say anything overtly negative, but the description of watches and
clocks as nagging objects "tied" to human bodies might prompt readers to rethink their own
relationship to time.
19. In homes, a haunted apparatus sleeps,
20. that snores when you pick it up.
21. If the ghost cries, they carry it
22. to their lips and soothe it to sleep
23. with sounds. And yet, they wake it up
24. deliberately, by tickling with a finger.
• The Martian spends three stanzas describing phones—which perhaps makes sense, given how
much time and attention phones most humans devote to their phones. Unsurprisingly, the Martian's
description completely defamiliarizes these common objects. In fact, this section may be the most
cryptic in the poem (it's never completely clear that the speaker is describing phones).
• First, the Martian calls phones "a haunted apparatus," recalling the machine imagery that
dominated the first part of the poem while adding a hint of the paranormal. Does the Martian think
ghosts live in phones? Apparently so, since the following stanza refers to "the ghost." Unfamiliar with
modern human technology, the speaker calls attention to the incredible, potentially spooky forces
contained within phones.
19. In homes, a haunted apparatus sleeps,
20. that snores when you pick it up.
21. If the ghost cries, they carry it
22. to their lips and soothe it to sleep
23. with sounds. And yet, they wake it up
24. deliberately, by tickling with a finger.
• However, the speaker also makes phones seem like living creatures that require care, like children or
pets. According to the Martian, a phone "sleeps" and "snores when you pick it up," an image that
might bring to mind a purring cat. (Most likely, the Martian is really describing the dial tone that
landline phones make when you lift the receiver.)
• The fact that humans "carry it to their lips and soothe it to sleep," meanwhile, brings to mind human
babies, whose parents soothe them with lullabies. (But the Martian's really describing the way
humans talk after picking up a ringing phone; the Martian mistakenly assumes that talking causes
the phone to hush, or return to sleep.) When the Martian observes humans "tickling" these devices
"with a finger," it sounds even more like a description of babies. But the details are just strange
enough—who wakes a baby with tickling?—to show that the Martian is describing something very
different.
19. In homes, a haunted apparatus sleeps,
20. that snores when you pick it up.
21. If the ghost cries, they carry it
22. to their lips and soothe it to sleep
23. with sounds. And yet, they wake it up
24. deliberately, by tickling with a finger.
• In fact, the Martian hints at their own bewilderment by writing, "And yet, they wake it up
deliberately." The words "And yet" suggest confusion as to why humans would try to hush their
phones as soon as they ring, yet sometimes cause phones to "wake" and make noise. Put this way,
our relationship to our phones does seem puzzling.
• Because the Martian's understanding of phones is so different from ours, the description here feels
confusing, then comical, then potentially insightful. After all, the Martian points to some deeper
questions: why do humans give our phones as much attention as we give babies and pets? Why
are we so anxious to silence phones when they "cry," and why do these ghost-like, powerful devices
have such a prominent place in modern life?
25. Only the young are allowed to suffer
26. openly. Adults go to a punishment room
• The Martian pivots away from phones in lines 25-26, turning to a blunt, insightful observation about
human culture: "Only the young are allowed to suffer / openly."
• Perhaps this means that only children cry in public; adults suppress their emotions, and only cry or
express pain when they're alone. The Martian assumes that this is because only children are allowed
to cry openly, as if adults are forced to hold in their tears. The Martian thus highlights what's usually
an unspoken social rule, at least in much of Western culture. By putting it so plainly, the Martian
invites readers to think twice about this rule. Why do adults feel like they can't cry in public? Who
created this rule? If it is a rule, why does it usually take the form of unspoken social pressure?
25. Only the young are allowed to suffer
26. openly. Adults go to a punishment room
• The following lines suggest another potential meaning, too. In lines 26-30, "punishment," "suffer," and
"pain" refer to using the bathroom. Perhaps, then, "Only the young are allowed to suffer / openly"
means that only small children are allowed to relieve themselves outside the bathroom (i.e., in
diapers).
• If the poem intends to convey both of these possible meanings, it may be making a broader point
about shame—implying that both tears and excretion are bodily functions that adults consider
shameful (and maybe shouldn't).
• Intentionally or not, the Martian invites readers to think critically about norms that most people take
for granted. Their voice demonstrates the value of looking at life through multiple lenses: perhaps
humans would realize that some of our rules and habits are unhealthy if we saw them from an
outsider's perspective.
26. openly. Adults go to a punishment room
27. with water but nothing to eat.
28. They lock the door and suffer the noises
29. alone. No one is exempt
30. and everyone’s pain has a different smell.
• The Martian's description of a bathroom is both cryptic and thought-provoking. The Martian calls it a
"punishment room," which makes sense given the Martian's notion that using the bathroom is a form
of "pain." Interestingly, the Martian stresses that "Adults" have to go to this place—presumably
because babies urinate and defecate in their diapers—but this leaves the status of older children
unclear. Does the Martian not realize that between infancy and adulthood, humans become
children, and that children, too, use the bathroom? Again, this small detail points to the Martian's
general unfamiliarity with life on Earth.
26. openly. Adults go to a punishment room
27. with water but nothing to eat.
28. They lock the door and suffer the noises
29. alone. No one is exempt
30. and everyone’s pain has a different smell.
• As in the rest of the poem, subtle word choices reveal what the speaker's describing. These
"punishment room[s]" have "water but nothing to eat." Since they contain no food, the speaker
can't be discussing a kitchen, and the bathroom is typically the only other space in a home that
offers water. Plus, people "lock the door" in these rooms; they go there "alone"; they make "noises";
and they cause a "smell." (The Martian's ability to distinguish "different smell[s]" seems especially
acute—perhaps another marker of Martians' difference from Earthlings?) Finally, the speaker notes
that "No one is exempt": going to the bathroom is a universal activity, something all humans must
endure.
26. openly. Adults go to a punishment room
27. with water but nothing to eat.
28. They lock the door and suffer the noises
29. alone. No one is exempt
30. and everyone’s pain has a different smell.
• This part of the poem is quite comical, especially for readers who enjoy bathroom humor. But even if
the Martian's view of the bathroom seems ridiculous, it sheds new light on human experience. To
someone unfamiliar with human bodily functions, the bathroom might well seem like a "punishment
room," where people have disgusting, unpleasant experiences. Coming just after the observation
that adults must "suffer" in private, this description perhaps critiques (again) the cultural rules that
force people to suffer the same experiences in isolation. The gap between the speaker's
understanding and the reader's loads the poem with dramatic irony, but it also opens the way for
social commentary.
31. At night, when all the colours die,
32. they hide in pairs
33. and read about themselves –
34. in colour, with their eyelids shut.
• In the final lines of the poem, the speaker offers a characteristically bizarre perspective on sleep
and dreaming. Recalling an earlier description of colors darkening in the rain, the Martian now
identifies "night" as the time "when all the colours die"—a strange, but perhaps poetic, way to think
about darkness.
• The Martian is clearly preoccupied with color (or "colour," to use the British spelling). In the last four
lines alone, the speaker mentions color twice: color disappears at night, then reappears when
humans dream. These moments might prompt readers, too, to see day and night, rain and sunshine,
as fluctuations in the world's display of color—a new, arguably beautiful way to see our everyday
surroundings.
31. At night, when all the colours die,
32. they hide in pairs
33. and read about themselves –
34. in colour, with their eyelids shut.
• To the Martian, humans appear to "hide in pairs" when they go to sleep in shared beds. More
interestingly, the Martian writes that humans "read about themselves," describing dreams as books
or stories that people read in their sleep.
• Here, the Martian circles back to their earlier interest in books. For the first time, too, the speaker
reveals that they have access to human consciousness. Previously, the Martian seemed to view
humans from a purely external vantage point. They could see humans making noises and
performing actions, but they couldn't explain how tears related to emotion, for example, or what
caused humans to "tickle" their phones. Now, however, the Martian apparently has access to
humans' dreams, though the Martian doesn't know that these nighttime stories are dreams.
31. At night, when all the colours die,
32. they hide in pairs
33. and read about themselves –
34. in colour, with their eyelids shut.
• As a result, the Martian's perspective is alien, yet oddly intimate. Their "outsider" view of dreams—as
colorful stories that humans read "with their eyelids shut"—comes from some kind of close access to
human experience, suggesting that readers, too, could adopt this view. Physical distance isn't
necessary; simply reimagining everyday activities can make life newly interesting and inspiring.
‘MAKING CLOWNS
MARTYRS (OR RETURNING
HOME WITHOUT
CHAUFFEURS’
C
(Jack Mapanje)
‘SMALL PASSING’
C
(Ingrid de Kok)
‘WHAT WILL THEY
EAT?’
C
(Mzi Mahola)
‘SEDITION’
C
(Cecil Rajendra)
‘SONNET 130: MY
MISTRESS' EYES ARE
NOTHING LIKE THE SUN’
C
(William Shakespeare)
Introduction
"Sonnet 130" was written by the English poet and playwright
William Shakespeare. Though most likely written in the 1590s,
the poem wasn't published until 1609. Like many other
sonnets from the same period, Shakespeare's poem wrestles
with beauty, love, and desire. He tries to find a more
authentic, realistic way to talk about these things in the
sonnet, and gleefully dismisses the highly artificial poems of
praise his peers were writing. Shakespeare's poem also
departs from his contemporaries in terms of formal structure
— it is a new kind of sonnet—the "Shakespearean" sonnet.
Theme: Beauty and Love
In “Sonnet 130,” the speaker unfavorably compares his
lover's body to a series of beautiful things (implying that she
is less beautiful than the sun, snow, roses, a goddess, etc.).
Ultimately, the speaker concludes that, even if his mistress
cannot be credibly compared to the typical imagery of
love poems, his love is still real and valuable, and his mistress
is still beautiful. In this way, Shakespeare suggests that love
and beauty should not be understood through abstract
comparisons, but rather should be valued for being real and
flawed.
Theme: Beauty and Love
The poem begins with the speaker comparing parts of his
lover's body to beautiful objects, finding, in each case, that
her body is less beautiful than the thing to which it’s being
compared. For example, he writes that her eyes aren’t as
bright as the sun, and her breath isn’t at all like perfume—in
fact, it “reeks.” These comparisons at first seem to paint a
portrait of a woman who is not very appealing. She is
lackluster in comparison to the beauty of roses, snow, or
music, which implies that the speaker might be able to find
more beauty and pleasure in the everyday things that
surround him than in the woman he loves. The comparisons,
in other words, seem to degrade her value.
Theme: Beauty and Love
However, since the comparisons are rarely overtly negative,
it’s possible that they are not meant to debase the
speaker’s mistress. For example, the first line notes that the
speaker’s mistress’ eyes are “nothing like the sun,” but it
does not say what they are like. This leaves open the
possibility that her eyes are better than the sun, or are at
least beautiful in a different way. Similarly, the speaker notes
that “if snow be white” then his mistress’ “breasts are dun,”
which seems more like a statement of reality (even the
whitest skin is actually tan, or dun) than a criticism. The only
truly insulting thing that the speaker says is that her breath
“reeks” and, because of this, he finds “more delight” in
“some perfumes.” But even this is a reasonably mild
statement; he’s not even saying that all perfumes are more
delightful than her reeking breath, so clearly he doesn’t
mind it all that much.
Theme: Beauty and Love
The poem’s final two lines cement the interpretation that
the comparisons are not meant to be degrading to the
speaker’s mistress or to the love that they share. When the
speaker claims that he finds “his love” as beautiful as any
other woman “belied with false compare,” he’s making the
point that no one’s eyes are as beautiful as the sun and
everyone’s breath smells kind of bad, and that, therefore,
such comparisons are not actually a useful way to think
about beauty or love.
Theme: Love, Personality, and the
Superficial
In Lines 9 and 10, of Sonnet 130, the speaker notes that even
though music has a “far more pleasing sound” than his
mistress's voice, that he nonetheless “love[s] to hear her
speak.” This comment about his mistress's voice is the only
explicitly positive comment about the speaker’s mistress
before the poem’s final two lines, and it is possible to argue
that it points to another broader point about love within the
poem: that one should love personality more than looks.
After all, if the speaker loves to hear his mistress speak not
because the sound of her voice is as beautiful as music (it’s
not), then it is reasonable to assume that part of the reason
that he loves to hear her speak is because of the content of
what she says. In other words, the speaker cares about what
she is saying, not about the more superficial question of
whether her voice is musical enough.
Theme: Love, Personality, and the
Superficial
And yet, overall, even as the poem rejects superficiality and
asks the reader to think of love and beauty as inherently
imperfect but still rare and valuable, the poem can only be
said to be partially successful in this critique. After all, the
majority of the poem is still comprised of superficial
comparisons, and even if they’re included for the humorous
and satirical effect of mocking traditional love poetry and its
impossible comparisons, readers of Sonnet 130 still don’t
learn anything about the speaker’s mistress that isn’t
superficial.
1. My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
• The first line of "Sonnet 130" establishes the poem's broad themes as well as its stylistic pattern. The
line is a single, declarative sentence. The line is almost a simile: it compares one thing to another,
using the word "like." But it negates the comparison. Instead of saying that the speaker's mistress'
eyes are like the sun, the speaker insists that they aren't like the sun. This notion, that the speaker's
mistress' body is not like some traditional beautiful object, is fundamental to the poem's
consideration of beauty, love and desire.
• In this case, the beautiful object is the sun. The speaker invokes the sun because of its physical
characteristics: it is bright, brilliant, sparkling. While the line doesn't tell the reader anything about
the mistress's eyes, we know that they lack these characteristics: by implication, they might be dark
or cloudy. Perhaps her eyes have a dark color; perhaps they are ugly; perhaps they lack the sparkle
of a quick wit. But the speaker may also be saying that his mistress's eyes aren't like the sun because
no one's eyes are like the sun — and that comparing anyone's eyes to the sun is ridiculous. Because
the poem only says what his mistress's eyes are not, the speaker invites readers to make guesses
about what her eyes are actually like—and whether this refusal to actually compare her eyes to the
sun is an insult or a compliment. That ambiguity and obscurity is key to the poem as it develops.
1. My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
• The meter of the line is also worth noting. As its title suggests, "Sonnet 130" is a special kind of poem
called a "sonnet." A sonnet is a tightly organized poem with a specific rhythmic pattern of stressed
and unstressed syllables in each of its lines. In Shakespeare's sonnets, each line has ten syllables,
with alternating unstressed and stressed syllables (this kind of meter is called iambic pentameter):
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun
• The line is metrically regular, meaning there are no unexpected shifts in the meter — it's straight
iambic pentameter. This regularity suggests a smooth, polished speaker: in control—and maybe
showing off a little. It suggests that the rest of the poem will be similarly rigorous and controlled, and
that any variations from the metrical pattern of the poem are intentional and significant.
2. Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
3. If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
4. If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
• The second line of the poem closely reproduces the grammatical and poetic structures of the
previous line. As in the first line, the speaker compares part of the mistress's body — her lips — to
something beautiful: coral. (Shakespeare is referring here to a bright red species of coral native to
the Mediterranean). Once again, the woman's body fails to live up to the beauty of the object
she's compared to. The coral is much more red than her lips. Once again, however, the reader
doesn't learn much about her lips on their own terms: we only know what they're not.
• Over the next two lines, a pattern emerges. Each line of the poem takes a separate part of the
mistress' body and compares it to something exceptionally beautiful. The poem is concerned with
her body, then, but not as a whole. The speaker breaks her body into separate parts. This might not
seem like a very nice way to talk about someone: why doesn't the speaker praise her personality or
her intelligence instead of talking about her body? As one moves deeper into the poem, though, it
becomes clear that the speaker is actually asking the same question—and implicitly criticizing
poets who insist on talking about their lovers' bodies, instead of focusing on deeper parts of who
they are.
2. Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
3. If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
4. If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
• Before getting there, though, the speaker spends a good deal of time describing this woman's body.
Again and again, he notes how his mistress fails to equal some ideal object. In lines 3 and 4, the rhetorical
structure shifts. Instead of simple, declarative sentences, he employs counter-factuals: if x, then y. In line
three, he compares his mistress' breasts to snow. Where snow is white, her breasts are dun—an oldfashioned word for a grayish-brown color. Here Shakespeare invokes the beauty standards of his age. In
Shakespeare's day, people didn't think it was sexy to have a tan—instead, they prized very pale white
skin, probably because only the rich could afford to stay inside out of the sun all day (nowadays when
tans are prized, only the rich can afford to go play outside all day while other people work in offices or
factories). The line is thus an important clue to the speaker's purpose in the poem. His mistress not only fails
to equal beautiful objects like the sun or coral, but she also fails to live up to the beauty standards of her
time. This arguably raises important questions for the poem: are those beauty standards fair? Should one
accept them? The fourth line of the poem does something similar. The speaker starts the line by offering
an apparently strange premise: "If hairs be wires..." He refers here to a poetic cliché (at least a cliché in his
day): that a woman's hair is like a mass of golden wires. Once again, the mistress fails to live up to this
standard of beauty: her hairs may be wires, but they're black, not golden.
• Each of the first four lines of the poem are end-stopped. In other words, each line is a complete
grammatical unit unto itself; one can read it and understand it without reading the line before or after it.
The result is a sense of closure and completeness: the poem is tightly organized. In addition, each of these
lines rhymes with another line: line 1 rhymes with line 3 and line 1 with line 4. As a result, the four line unit
has a similar sense of completeness. It feels woven together as a self-sufficient unit.
5. I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
6. But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
7. And in some perfumes is there more delight
8. Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
• In lines 5 and 6, the speaker breaks the pattern he established in the first four lines of the poem. Where
those lines are end-stopped, line five is enjambed, ending only with a weak comma that doesn't cause
much of a pause. The sentence spills over into line 6; one has to continue reading past the line break to
understand what the speaker's trying to say. This establishes a pattern for the rest of the poem.
Henceforth, each sentence is two lines long: the first line introduces an idea or problem and the second
complicates and completes the first line.
• In line 5, the speaker begins by issuing a relatively banal account of his own experience: he has seen
roses. These roses, he notes, are both pink and white, the two colors blended together in a pattern he
calls "damasked." In this context, the word "damask" might mean two separate things. It might mean the
colors are dappled—that the surface of the roses is marked by patches of red and pink that blend into
each other. In this case, the speaker compares his mistress to a natural object, as in lines 1, 2, and 3. Or it
might refer to a style of embroidery, known for its intricate patterns. In that case, the speaker compares
his mistress to a man-made object, as in line 4. This alternation between man-made and natural objects
(which continues throughout the poem) suggests that the speaker is asking questions about beauty itself.
Should it be thought of as something natural? Or is it something man-made—and thus something that
people can change?
5. I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
6. But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
7. And in some perfumes is there more delight
8. Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
• In the next two lines of the poem, the speaker compares his mistress' breath to perfume. It's an
important shift in the poem's focus. The poem has so far focused on the beauty of the surfaces of
her body: her eyes, lips, breasts, etc. Here the speaker turns to something that comes from inside
the mistress' body and that isn't visible. His consideration expands to include other senses.
Unsurprisingly, her breath falls short: compared to perfume it "reeks." While the word "reeks" in
Shakespeare's time was more neutral than it is today, and refers not necessarily to something that
stinks but instead to the general fact of exhaling or of a smell being given off, the comparison
nonetheless isn't generally complimentary to his mistress. Also note that the speaker is careful to
qualify his judgment: it only reeks in comparison to some perfumes. This might mean that her breath
actually smells better than some perfumes, or it might be a moment of false gentleness, in which
the speaker tries to soften the blow of his otherwise harsh judgments.
• Like the previous four lines, this one is rhymed in a criss-cross pattern: line 5 rhymes with line 7 and
line 6 with line 8. Interestingly, here the rhyme crosses the sentences. Each line in this quatrain finds
its rhyme outside its own sentence. The rhyme acts to bind together these separate thoughts,
suggesting an underlying continuity between them. And by this point that continuity is clear: that
the speaker's mistress can't be compared to these various beautiful things.
9. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
10. That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
11. I grant I never saw a goddess go;
12. My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
• In lines 9 and 10, the speaker continues to focus on the mistress' internal and intangible characteristics—in
this case her voice. Here, his comments become more complimentary and less insulting than in the
preceding lines. Indeed, he begins by paying an explicit compliment: he loves listening to her talk. But, he
adds, he knows that music sounds much better. Here the speaker resists the elaborate, excessive
compliments his peers like to pay to their mistresses: he tries to find a way to express his love and
admiration in more honest and direct language.
• In the next pair of lines, he once again engages—and refuses—the traditional compliments that poets
pay to the women they love. Beginning with Virgil's Aeneid (I.326-405), it's been traditional for poets to
claim that their ladies walk like goddesses. The speaker begins by making fun of this tradition: maybe
other poets have seen goddesses walking around, he says, but he certainly hasn't. In making this
comment, he is pointing out that other poets, of course, also haven't ever seen goddesses walking
around. The speaker then notes that when his mistress "goes" (i.e. when she walks), she does so in a
humble, ordinary way: with her feet on the ground. The lines are more ambiguous than lines 9 and 10.
Once again, the speaker refuses the conventions of love poetry, but here he doesn't find a way to
compliment his mistress as he does so. The question then, becomes, is the speaker withholding the
compliment as a way of searching for a better, more honest way of writing about love and beauty—or is
it simply insulting?
13. And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
14.
As any she belied with false compare.
• In the final two lines of the poem, the formal pattern of the poem changes abruptly. Where the previous
twelve lines have been rhymed in a criss-cross pattern in units of four lines, the final two lines rhyme with
each other in what is called a rhyming couplet. The couplet is also indented. The difference in the spatial
and formal arrangement of the couplet gives the reader a helpful signal: something big is changing here.
The poem is shifting, turning. (In fact this moment is called the volta: an Italian word that means, literally,
"a turn"). Traditionally, the turn marks a moment where the argument of a sonnet reverses: where the
speaker begins to argue refute what he or she has said or implied before. (Though, in non-Shakespearean
sonnets it often comes much earlier, around line 9—which gives the poet much more space to unfold a
new set of ideas).
• Sonnet 130 is no exception. In lines 13 and 14, the speaker drops the playful, insulting tone of the
preceding lines and offers a direct and apparently sincere compliment to his mistress. Swearing on the
heavens themselves, he claims that she is as "rare"—as special and unique—as any woman. He also now
makes explicit what was only implicit before: that his refusal to compare his mistress to beautiful objects
before were not meant as insults, but rather were meant to criticize all such comparisons that litter the
work of so many other love poems. The key phrase occurs when the speaker says that his mistress is as
beautiful as any woman "belied with false compare." "Belied" refers to lying, slandering, or passing
malicious rumors. So the speaker is here stating that other poets who might say, for example, "my mistress
is more beautiful than the sun" are simply lying. And, in doing so, they obscure their own mistress's actual
beauty. The poem thus argues for a different kind of love poetry: a love poetry that focuses on the reality
of the women it addresses, and that dismisses artificial beauty standards in favor of simplicity, honesty,
and directness.
13. And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
14. As any she belied with false compare.
• However, it's worthwhile to note that the poem only inconsistently practices that alternate kind of
love poetry. The speaker does, at times, deliver sweet compliments to his mistress, but just as often
he insults her. He also says very little about who she is or what she looks like. Instead, the reader only
learns what she isn't. In this sense, the poem remains bound to the poems and poets it criticizes—
repeating their habits and metaphors, even as it criticizes them. (A modern reader might further
note that the poem almost exclusively focuses on beauty as being a physical thing; even as the
poem criticizes idealized standards of beauty for women, it insists only on more accurate and
honest ways of describing physical beauty, and not a shift to a different vision of beauty that
includes who the beloved really is as a person.)
• The final two lines are, at the least, an attempt by the speaker to set the record straight. Each
reader will need to decide for themselves how convincing those are. Do they effectively make up
for the insults and backhanded compliments that fill the first twelve lines of the poem? Or are they
tacked on, a hurried attempt to make up for having said too much? This ambiguity exists even in
the meter of these lines. Where the previous twelve lines have been strongly and evenly iambic, line
13 has a hiccup—the first real hiccup in the poem:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
13. And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
14. As any she belied with false compare.
• In the second foot of the line ("by heaven"), Shakespeare substitutes a metrical foot called an
anapest (unstressed unstressed stressed) for the iamb one expects (unstressed stressed). This is an
unusual and unexpected place to find an anapest. It reads like a pause, a moment of hesitation or
uncertainty. That such a hesitation should appear as the speaker swears on oath—on heaven—can
be interpreted, perhaps, as a sign that the speaker isn't quite convinced of the oath himself, that
there is some lingering insecurity or insincerity in this otherwise smooth, even glib poem.
Alternatively, one can interpret that hiccup in the meter during an oath of love as a sign of actual
emotion — of the speaker choking up when expressing his very real love for his mistress. It isn't
necessary that one interpretation be right and the other wrong. Both exist within the poem for the
reader to wrestle with and think about.