Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE STUDENT, by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: My midnight lamp is weary as my soul Last Line: We cannot understand thy idiocy! Subject(s): Students | ||||||||
'My midnight lamp is weary as my soul, And, being unimmortal, has gone out. And now alone yon moony lamp of heaven, Which God lit and not man, illuminates These volumes, others wrote in weariness As I have read them; and this cheek and brow, Whose paleness, burned in with heats of thought, Would make an angel smile to see how ill Clay thrust from Paradise consorts with mind -- If angels could, like men, smile bitterly. 'Yet, must my brow be paler! I have vowed To clip it with the crown which cannot fade, When it is faded. Not in vain ye cry, O glorious voices that survive the tongues From whence was drawn your separate sovereignty -- For I would reign beside you! I would melt The golden treasures of my health and life Into that name! My lips are vowed apart From cheerful words; mine ears, from pleasant sounds; Mine eyes, from sights God made so beautiful, -- My feet, from wanderings under shady trees; Mine hands, from clasping of dear-loving friends, -- My very heart, from feelings which move soft! Vowed am I from the day's delightsome-ness, And dreams of night! and when the house is dumb In sleep, which is the pause 'twixt life and life, I live and waken thus; and pluck away Slumber's sleek poppies from my pained lids -- Goading my mind with thongs wrought by herself, To toil and struggle along this mountain-path Which hath no mountain-airs; until she sweat Like Adam's brow, and gasp, and rend away In agony, her garment of the flesh!' And so his midnight lamp was lit anew, And burned till morning. But his lamp of life Till morning burned not! He was found embraced, Close, cold, and stiff, by Death's compelling sleep; His breast and brow supported on a page Charactered over with a praise of fame, Of its divineness and beatitude -- Words which had often caused that heart to throb, That cheek to burn; though silent lay they now, Without a single beating in the pulse, And all the fever gone! I saw a bay Spring verdant from a newly - fashioned grave. The grass upon the grave was verdanter, That being watered by the eyes of One Who bore not to look up toward the tree! Others looked on it -- some, with passing glance, Because the light wind stirred in its leaves; And some, with sudden lighting of the soul In admiration's ecstasy! -- Ay! some Did wag their heads like oracles, and say, ''T is very well!' -- but none remembered The heart which housed the root, except that ONE Whose sight was lost in weeping! Is it thus, Ambition, idol of the intellect? Shall we drink aconite, alone to use Thy golden bowl? and sleep ourselves to death -- To dream thy visions about life? O Power That art a very feebleness! -- before Thy clayey feet we bend our knees of clay, And round thy senseless brow bind diadems With paralytic hands, and shout 'a god,' With voices mortal hoarse! Who can discern Th' infirmities they share in? Being blind, We cannot see thy blindness: being weak, We cannot feel thy weakness: being low, We cannot mete thy baseness: being unwise, We cannot understand thy idiocy! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN MICHAEL ROBINS?ÇÖS CLASS MINUS ONE by HICOK. BOB YOU GO TO SCHOOL TO LEARN by THOMAS LUX GRADESCHOOL'S LARGE WINDOWS by THOMAS LUX A CHILD'S THOUGHT OF GOD by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |
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