No Coward Soul is Mine

No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the worlds storm-troubled sphere:
I see Heavens glories shine,
And faith shines equal, arming me from fear.

O God within my breast.
Almighty, ever-present Deity!
Life — that in me has rest,
As I — Undying Life — have power in Thee!

Vain are the thousand creeds
That move men’s hearts: unutterably vain;
Worthless as withered weeds,
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main,

To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by Thine infinity;
So surely anchored on
The steadfast Rock of immortality.

With wide-embracing love
Thy Spirit animates eternal years,
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears.

Though earth and man were gone,
And suns and universes ceased to be,
And Thou wert left alone,
Every existence would exist in Thee.

There is not room for Death,
Nor atom that his might could render void:
Thou — Thou art Being and Breath,
And what Thou art may never be destroyed.

Emily Bronte (1818 – 1848)

According to Charlotte Bronte, these were the last lines written by her sister.

A very powerful personal declaration of her understanding of life and God … and in no uncertain terms! The second stanza in particular affirms her internal knowledge in the context of an eternal connectivity … and a connectivity that can never be broken … declared emphatically in the last line.

The third stanza negates the conventional institutional religion of her day. She was brought up in the small parsonage at Haworth and would be well versed in religion. Two strong similes (withered weeds, and froth on the main (ocean). She breaks through the constrictions of ordinary life … the freeing of the spirit against convention.

The fifth stanza emphasing the creativity of life … by one who had great creativity herself (Wuthering Heights) … as well as passion.

When I read this poem at a poetry meeting … one fellow said  ‘nailing your flag to the mast’ … what an apt expression … appropriate task for one nearing death.

Here is a poem by St John of the Cross on the spiritual journey of life. Best known for his ‘Dark Night of the Soul’ poetry .The poems written when incarcerated in Spain.

In the opening statement perfection is defined as the union with God and to get there a spiritual journey is needed which denies the self (by negation).

My annotated comments appear after each stanza.

Song of the Soul that Delights in Reaching the Supreme State

of perfection, that is, the union with God,
by the path of spiritual negation.

Upon a darkened night
on fire with all love’s longing
– O joyful flight! –
I left, none noticing,
my house, in silence, resting.

S1 … there is contrast between the fire of love and the dark night … the fire of love = the journey of the soul … a journey of joy and a natural journey … none notice this departure … no other people around at the time or is this just the departure from the body … leaving the body to rest (the physical person=house) … note the house is still alive but sleeping (compare with S8 where the house is forgotten/dead).

Secure, devoid of light,
by secret stairway, stealing
– O joyful flight! –
in darkness self-concealing,
my house, in silence, resting.

S2 … the spiritual journey is seen as a secret stairway … a personal journey that none can know except the person concerned … and hidden by darkness or the non-spiritual world … stealing= taking something from another and in doing denying something … and the repeat of the last line of S1 in S2 emphasising the departure from the body again left sleeping

In the joy of night,
in secret so none saw me,
no object in my sight
no other light to guide me,
but what burned here inside me.

S3 … night blankets everything except self … nice, that is if you want to be alone and not distracted … no objects in sight … and if you have secreted yourself away there is nobody to take any notice of you and you have the world to yourself … and if all is totally dark then you can internalise totally … get in touch with your inner self … in this case a place you burn to go to and a place that brings joy … perhaps the spiritual journey ends in a kind of self-centred experience? … in the end we only have ourselves?

Which solely was my guide,
more surely than noon-glow,
to where he does abide,
one whom I deeply know
a place where none did show.

S4 … nice play on words … sole and solely … for this is a journey of the soul … and here we again see a total reliance and understanding within the individual – the only guide needed is from within and so knowing of the path … which is illuminated more than the full sun of noon … and the path home, the path to where the person belongs … a place where none did show except the self. The uniqueness of the personal spiritual journey is emphasised.

O night, my guide!
O night, far kinder than the dawn!
O night that tied
the lover to the loved,
the loved in the lover there transformed!

S5 … dawn gives new life, the start of a new day … but this night and darkness gives new life out of the night and darkness which is the guide to the future … but not the dawning of day but the dawning of a spiritual awakening and a transformation based on love … a very different window of light

On my flowering breast,
that breast I kept for him alone,
there he took his rest
while I regaled my own,
in lulling breezes from the cedars blown.

S6 … a very personal approach to the spiritual integration … the spiritual journey to perfection (regale = to entertain or give plenty of food and drink) … perhaps to give everything of oneself in this fashion in the union of love … and note there is something special here kept alone for this purpose towards the completion of the journey. (‘Behold, I will liken you to a cedar in Lebanon, with fair branches and forest shade’ – Ezekiel 31:3)

The breeze, from off the tower,
as I sieved through its windings,
with calm hands, that hour,
my neck, in wounding,
left all my senses hanging.

S7 … this is the follow-on absorption into a new sensuality based on the ‘breath’ from the tower which now reaches a communion (religious connotations … God and the tower of Babel when communion was denied and the people were scattered) and the sensuality is such that it appears to wound and leave all other senses without meaning (hanging without connection).

Self abandoned, self forgot,
my face inclined to the beloved one:
all ceased, and I was not,
my cares now left behind, and gone:
there among the lilies all forgotten.

S8 … finality in reaching perfection … the death of self and self-cares … (lilies symbolic of the passing and death) … there is a certain feeling of emptiness left behind.

St John of the Cross

Born at Hontoveros, Castille Spain 1542 died 1591 at Ubeda.

… and here are some more words from St John of the Cross on perfection

Summary of Perfection

Ignoring the created and inferior;
Remembering above all things the creator;
Attention to the life that is interior;
For the beloved love that’s always greater.

… and a reference link to more analysis

As a decrepit father takes delight
To see his active child do deeds of youth,
So I, made lame by Fortune’s dearest spite,
Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth;
For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,
Or any of these all, or all, or more,
Entitled in thy parts, do crowned sit,
I make my love engrafted to this store:
So then I am not lame, poor, nor despised,
Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give
That I in thy abundance am sufficed,
And by a part of all thy glory live.
Look what is best, that best I wish in thee:
This wish I have; then ten times happy me!

Sonnet 37 above has been lauded as one of Shakespeare’s key sonnets because of a possible strong religious inference. Refer to the following excellent Website where all the sonnets are analysed in detail line by line. Sonnet 37 is also discussed in great length in the introduction to the sonnets where the sonnet is linked to biblical texts including Psalm 37.

It is my purpose in this post to explore this sonnet from a personal religious perspective … with reference to some of the text and analysis from the above mentioned site … http://www.shakespeares-sonnets.com/sonnet/index.php courtesy of Oxquarry Books Ltd.

The following text is from the sonnet summary …

An interlude occurs, in which the poet takes stock and reflects on what the youth has given him. Though he himself is old and useless, the abundance of the youth’s qualities feeds into his veins, like sap into a grafted tree. This transforms him and removes his lameness and his failures. The youth has everything that is desirable, and the great store of his qualities diffuses its glory around. The poet is contented, for he sees that his beloved has all that is best, all that he could wish for him, and he basks in this reflected glory, his decrepit status now entirely forgotten.

The key to my sonnet interpretation is in line 4 and the reference to thy.

Shakespeare is making comparison between Father and child in the preceding lines but it is not clear on the nature of the thy … but all comfort worth and truth is involved … and from a religious point of view thy could be a reference to Christ. Especially as all truth is involved – an attribute associated with deity.

My line by line commentary below is based on this interpretation and references some of the Site commentary …

1. As a decrepit father takes delight
2. To see his active child do deeds of youth,

decrepit father Shakespeare reflects on being like a father worn down by age who takes consolation in an active child (son). The Father – Son relationship is critical in Christian philosophy.

3. So I, made lame by Fortune’s dearest spite,
4. Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth;

made lame – This is a metaphor associated with his need for support … Christ’s first actions were to heal (the lame).

If dearest spite = most severe malignancy … this could refer to the imperfection of man, the most severe of all malignancies … (the relationship is healed on the cross by active work of the son).

All comfort worth and truth … Shakespeare identifies with the son … a declaration of total support from Christ. In many of the sonnets the importance of the next generation is paramount (the son) in giving life to the preceding generation.

And from the Site commentary …Take all my comfort of = derive all my comfort from.

worth and truth are qualities which link the beloved to Christ, particularly the words of St. John’s Gospel, And the same word became fleshe, and dwelt among vs ( and we sawe the glory of it, as the glory of the only begotten sonne of the father) full of grace and trueth. John 1. 14. Bishop’s Bible 1568. The echo is not exact, but the youth is often praised for his grace, as e.g. in Sonnet 17.

5. For whether beauty, birth, or wealth, or wit,

These are the traditional inheritance characteristics of the aristocrat.

6. Or any of these all, or all, or more,

Text from the site …

The superabundance of all these qualities, and the way they seem to burst out of the boundaries of expressing them, as out of a magician’s hat, each one causing new wonderment, enhances the expectation of where it might lead. Are we to see a new monarch crowned, or a new era proclaimed? Surely they are enough to make the youth, or the beloved poet who sings his praises, immortal?

For this discussion I am equating the youth to Christ

7. Entitled in thy parts, do crowned sit,

If the subject is in fact Christ then there is no question of entitlement.

8. I make my love engrafted to this store:

Text from the site …

I make my love engrafted to = I graft myself lovingly on to them. The Q spelling is ingrafted, possibly underlining the intimacy of the relationship. To this store = to the store and abundance of your qualities.

Grafting has vine religious connotations of personal association common in the New Testament.

9. So then I am not lame, poor, nor despised,

Reference to Christ’s support for those most in need.

10. Whilst that this shadow doth such substance give

Christ is like a shadow which is inseparable from the body though not always seen. This may be a stretch in thought but I do I like this wonderful imagery of Christ being always there for a person – and more in evidence when the sun is shining. To have Christ as a shadow is all that is needed given the nature of Christ.

And from the Site …

The imagery shifts from being engrafted, and bearing a title, to that of deriving sustenance from the beneficent shade offered by the youth. The meaning is approximately ‘While your shadow and your influence pours on to me such abundance of well-being, such absolute reality of existence’. The sudden appearance of substance and shadow in this sonnet is odd, and I suspect that it may be an oblique reference to the doctrine of transubstantiation, playing on the idea of the beloved as the Christ figure. There must be a link in thought also to sonnet 53.

What is your substance, whereof are you made,
That millions of strange shadows on you tend?

Shakespeare often used the substance/shadow dichotomy, which he seems to have been rather fond of. These are the instances of its use in the plays.

COUNTESS of A. Then have I substance too.
TALBOT No, no, I am but shadow of myself:
You are deceived, my substance is not here; 1H6-2-3

That Talbot is but shadow of himself?
These are his substance, sinews, arms and strength, 1H6-2-3

To your most gracious hands, that are the substance
Of that great shadow I did represent; 2H6-1-1

Which dreams indeed are ambition, for the very
substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream. Ham.II.2

…..Yet look how far
The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow
In underprizing it, so far this shadow
Doth limp behind the substance. MV.III.2.126-9

That I have purchased at an infinite rate, and that hath taught me to say this:
‘Love like a shadow flies when substance love pursues;
Pursuing that that flies, and flying what pursues’. MW.II.2.206-9.

The usual direction of traffic is from substance to shadow. It is interesting that the reverse is shown, in that the shadow gives substance. The implication is that Christ as a shadow has more power and substance than the body of a person. An emphasis given to the shadow (spiritual nature) .

11. That I in thy abundance am sufficed,

So that I have sufficient for myself from your abundant supply of excellence. Cf from Psalm 37

… the meeke spirited shall possesse the earth: and shalbe delighted in the abundance of peace Psalm 37:11

12. And by a part of all thy glory live.

A mere part of your glory is enough to give life and being to me.

13. Look what is best, that best I wish in thee:

Look what is best = whatever (in the world) is best. As in sonnet 9 – Look what an unthrift in the world doth spend …

Christ deserves all that is best … his right.

14. This wish I have; then ten times happy me!

I am so happy when Christ continues to grow with all that is best (as the world repairs).

Disabled

He sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark,
And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey,
Legless, sewn short at elbow. Through the park
Voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn,
Voices of play and pleasure after day,
Till gathering sleep had mothered them from him.

About this time Town used to swing so gay
When glow-lamps budded in the light blue trees,
And girls glanced lovelier as the air grew dim,-
In the old times, before he threw away his knees.
Now he will never feel again how slim Girls’ waists are,
or how warm their subtle hands.
All of them touch him like some queer disease.

There was an artist silly for his face,
For it was younger than his youth, last year.
Now, he is old; his back will never brace;
He’s lost his colour very far from here,
Poured it down shell-holes till the veins ran dry,
And half his lifetime lapsed in the hot race
And leap of purple spurted from his thigh.

One time he liked a blood-smear down his leg,
After the matches, carried shoulder-high.
It was after football, when he’d drunk a peg,
He thought he’d better join. – He wonders why.
Someone had said he’d look a god in kilts,
That’s why; and maybe, too, to please his Meg,
Aye, that was it, to please the giddy jilts
He asked to join. He didn’t have to beg;
Smiling they wrote his lie: aged nineteen years.

Germans he scarcely thought of; all their guilt,
And Austria’s, did not move him. And no fears
Of Fear came yet. He drought of jewelled hills
For daggers in plaid socks; of smart salutes;
And care of arms; and leave; and pay arrears;
Esprit de corps; and hints for young recruits.

And soon, he was drafted out with drums and cheers.
Some cheered him home, but not as crowds cheer Goal.
Only a solemn man who brought him fruits
Thanked him; and then enquired about his soul.

Now, he will spend a few sick years in institutes,
And do what things the rules consider wise,
And take whatever pity they may dole.
Tonight he noticed how the women’s eyes
Passed from him to the strong men that were whole.
How cold and late it is! Why don’t they come
And put him into bed? Why don’t they come?

Wilfred Owen

Here is a Remembrance Day poem. Wilfred Owen and Siegfried Sassoon are reknown for their WW1poetry. Both actively served in the trenches. Wilfred Owen died at the very end of the war while on duty at the age of 25 and is best known for his poem ‘Anthem for a Doomed Youth’.

In a recent U3A poetry session we looked at contrast in poems and there is great personal contrast in this poem.

The youth who really wanted go to war for such sorry reasons … look a god in kilts / to please the giddy jilts  is a different picture after his return. He is now legless and restricted by a wheelchair … previously he was a champion at sport, previously his youth and mobility swept the girls off the floor … now all the girls ignore him and what is more he is condemned to reliance on the support of a Carer in order to perform the basic of tasks.

The drain of life- vitality to remain living but dead is dramatically stated in the following lines in the third stanza …
He’s lost his colour very far from here,
Poured it down shell-holes till the veins ran dry,

It is a poem that highlights the long lasting effect of war on those that survived … especially the difficulties of those returning in coming to terms with their change of circumstance … and at a very personal level. Wilfred Owen spent some time convalescing in Scotland before he returned for a second tour of duty. It was here that he met Siegfried Sassoon and many other men that had been wounded or suffered shell-shock.

But perhaps of more importance the poem highlights the naivety and unprepared nature of many young men that enlisted without any knowledge and understanding of the nature of war- succumbing to the glory image perpetuated throughout society at the time of the First World War. The poetry of Owen and Sassoon continues to wave a flag in a different direction.

… here is a link to another WordPress analysis of this poem

Delight in Disorder

A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness;
A lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction;
An erring lace, which here and there
Enthrals the crimson stomacher;
A cuff neglectful, and thereby
Ribands to flow confusedly;
A winning wave, deserving note,
In the tempestuous petticoat;
A careless shoe-string, in whose tie
I see a wild civility:
Do more bewitch me, than when art
Is too precise in every part.

Robert Herrick 1591 – 1674

I do like the light gentle sensual interplay between gentleman and lady … although the lady is only speaking with her dress  … I say gentleman and lady because Robert Herrick was a clergyman and I guess he had association with the more refined – the drawing room ladies of his time … look at the description of the dress in the above text … apart from a tempestuous petticoat there are a couple of unusual words …

Lawn = a fine light cotton or cotton-and-polyester fabric. Use: clothing, household linen.

Stomacher = a stiff panel of material, often decorated with embroidery or jewels, worn over the chest and abdomen by women in the 17th and 18th centuries, and earlier by both sexes

Ribands = a ribbon, especially one that is presented to somebody as an award or prize

The last lines are the most important and here we see the movement from the dress of a lady to art … of course art and the female form are synonymous so it is not a great transference.  I have a certain sympathy with the suggestion that ‘art’ as well as dress needs a little disorder to give it a more human quality … but perhaps a lost arm doesn’t always enhance.

The poem is a fourteen line sonnet of rhyming couplets though some of the end rhymes may be seen as a little disorderly … for example ‘tie’ and ‘civility’ … but there again perhaps this is very appropriate in the expression of the underlining sentiment of the poem!

… so the bottom line is if you are making your own custard don’t worry if there is an uneven quality and even a few small lumps hanging around … the taste is all that matters … you will be forgiven, and of course you can’t be perfect.