Tag Archives: Poetry

Dylan Thomas, To Be Encompassed by the Brilliant Earth

08 Thursday Apr 2021

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To be encompassed by the brilliant earth

Breathing on all sides pungently

Into her vegetation’s lapping mouths

Must feel like such encroachment

As edges off your nerves to mine,

The hemming contact that’s so trammelled

By love or look,

In death or out of death,

Glancing from the yellow nut,

Eyeing from the wax’s tower,

Or, white as milk, out of the seeping dark,

The drooping as you close me in

A world of webs

I touch and break,

I touch and break.             

This is a horrifying poem in many ways. Although written from a profoundly pagan point of view (that life is a sort of force which of its own runs through all living things and our life is ultimately impersonal and not our own), the moral of the poem is as critical of lust as the most passionate turn or burn preacher. 

The poem begins with a phrase which may be an imagining which may be a wish or a fear. 

To be encompassed by the brilliant earth.

I hope to be, I fear to be, I may be; I am fascinated by, or I am in terror of, this encompassing.  The use of the verb “encompassed” provides the ambiguity. For instance, if we change the verb to “buried” or “crushed,” we could easily see the negative. If we read “blanketed” of “cradled,” we could see this as a good. But encompassed denotes a state without providing a connotation to relieve the ambiguity.

Moreover, there is an ambiguity as to whether the poet considers his own, another’s, or the abstracted idea, of the state of encompassing. 

The phrase the brilliant earth is one of the paradoxical turns one finds in Dylan. The earth by nature is not “brilliant”: it does exhibit light. There are a few ways we could take this phrase.

The easiest way to “understand” the phrase would be to reject it as nonsense. If we were to find this phrase in a textbook on dirt we would have to think of the phrase as somehow in error. 

However, since we are reading a work of creative literature, and a poem by Dylan Thomas in particular, we charitably consider this as a deliberately paradoxical phrase; perhaps along the lines of a Zen koan. If this phrase is not to be taken as a deliberate contradiction nor a “literal” description of glowing dirt, what could Dylan’s point be?

It might be there is a sort of “brilliance” in the earth which is not immediately the subject of apprehension. It might be a metaphorical brilliance: The earth is living or active in some sense and exudes something which could be described as “brilliant”. It might be a reference to the effect upon the poet: somehow the earth has made in me the sensation that the earth is brilliant.

We could also conclude that “earth” has reference which is not precisely inert dirt in the field. What this reference could be is unclear at this point. 

Of course, the metaphorical use could entail both elements. 

And thus at the end of the first line, we are in a state of necessary ambivalence. 

The line scans as follows:

to BE encompassed [pause] by the BRILLiant EARTH

The two halves of the line are held together by the alliteration of “B” on either side of the pause: Be Brilliant

The second line

Breathing on all sides pungently

This line connects to the prior line as follows:

The “B” of “Breathing. This point is emphasized by the accent on the first syllable. 

The entire line also functions as an appositive to the “brilliant earth”: The “brilliant earth [is] breathing.”

The description of the earth “breathing” complicates the problem of the first line in describing earth. So we now know the earth is “brilliant” and “breathes”. How this could be so is not yet clear. But by the addition of “breathing” tells us that somehow the earth is alive. The brilliance is just glowing dirt: this living entity.

The prepositional phrase, “on all sides” complements “encompassing”. This does not answer who is encompassed by the earth (the poet or another).

Someone is now on all sides experiencing a living, breathing earth. Moreover, this experience is intimate: the earth is close enough, one can experience this “pungent” breathing.

Into her vegetation’s lapping mouths

Where does the vegetation have a mouth? Does the earth breathe into the roots or the leaves? 

This also changes the tenor of the adverb “pungently”. Rather than emphasizing the earth’s bad breath, it seems to emphasize the pointedness of the earth’s action. 

The vegetation is pictured as an animal lapping at the water: but here, rather than water it is the breathing earth.

At this point, the poem takes a dramatic turn:

Must feel like such encroachment

As edges off your nerves to mine,

The relationship between the mouths and the breathing earth is pictured as an “encroachment”: it is a forcible entrance, or a least an unwelcomed entrance. 

At this point, the metaphorical language of a brilliant, breathing earth becomes another step removed from experience: the earth and the plants mouths are not “your nerves to mine”. 

The first clause, “as edges off” modifies the “encroachment”. 

We have now moved from actual plants and earth to the poet and someone else. Precisely what is taking place here is not exactly clear, but the relationship between this poet and, we can presume at this point, a lover is extraordinarily intimate. 

This also raises a theme which runs through other poems by Thomas such as 

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower 

Drives my green age

This concept of there being a continuous correlation between the life of plants and nature and his own life. Because of this theme, it is perhaps wrong to understand the current poem (To be encompassed ….) is not using the language of earth and plants as merely a conceit: a metaphor to dress-up the relationship between the poet and lover, but rather to express something which Thomas contends is inherent in the relationship.

He is pointing out something which is intimate, but also (he sees) as impersonal. Walt Whitman makes a similar argument in Song of Myself:

Urge and urge and urge, 

Always the procreant urge of the world.

It is as if Thomas is speaking to her and removing the personal him and her from the equation and contending for a deeply impersonal intimacy. He even describes this intimacy as something which “love” or “look” (there knowledge and notice of one-another) as trammeling upon the intimacy:

The hemming contact that’s so trammelled

By love or look,

The contact is not profound, rather it is “hemmed.”  The intimacy of the two is the intimacy of plants in the soil. It is not even animalistic, but rather vegetable. It does not sound passionate or even desirable: breath is pungent, the intimacy an encroachment. The brilliant earth thus comes back not as a joyous brilliance but rather a description of energy: as if life were a thing like gravity which just acted without personality.

The trammeling is further explicated in these lines:

In death or out of death,

Glancing from the yellow nut,

Eyeing from the wax’s tower,

Or, white as milk, out of the seeping dark,

The exact references of these lines are unclear to me. The first line “In death or out of death” make sense, because this force is not something confined to persons, but a force which courses through nature with or without Thomas’s existence. 

I can’t make out the “yellow nut,” unless it is some reference to birth in the way that a wax tower which would melt with heat is a reference to death. That life-death-life movement would make sense of nut and wax, and then white seeping from dark: a force of life which moves through opposites and moves through people without any person being their own life.

USA, TX, Bandera Co.: Bandera Hill Country State Natural Area 9-iv-2016

The poem ends with this horrifying lines:

The drooping as you close me in

A world of webs

I touch and break,

I touch and break.

The lover’s closeness is “drooping” she closes in on him in a manner which he describes as “a world of webs”. This intimacy is no loving relationship, rather it is a black widow coming into the kill the male with whom she mates. This moment of procreation will he is death:

“I touch and break.” 

To touch her is to be destroyed. 

This moment of dispassionate lust, a lust which is independent of either the poet or the woman, results in profound disillusionment. It something forced upon them both, something which love or true intimacy can only ‘trammel’ upon. They are forced into this “encroachment” which overwhelms them. In the end, she comes to him as a spider who destroys him as soon as she touches him. 

Thomas decidedly does not call this lust “sin”: sin would be too volitional an understanding. But the result of this lust is certainly death. 

This then leads us back to the first line of the poem: On the first run through, one lover encompassing the other is the “brilliant earth”. The brilliant earth is the human being made of earth and animated by the “green force”. But here at the end, we return to the earth and now it is a tomb: he has been buried. The procreative act is also the entombing action. Life runs through the human, running the puppet from life to death to life and so on.

So I hated life

Because what is done under the sun is grievous to me

For all is vanity

And a striving after wind.

Eccl. 2:17

Edward Taylor, Meditation 32, Seventh Stanza

06 Tuesday Apr 2021

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Seventh Stanza

Thou to the cups dost say (that catch this wine)

This liquor, golden pipes, and wine-vats plain,

Whether Paul, Apollos, Cephas, all are thine.

Oh golden word! Lord speak it o’re again

Lord speak it home to me, say these are mine.

My bells shall then thy praises bravely chime.

Summary: The poem ends with the words of God to the poet: This grace you have received and more – “all [these things] are thine”. This final stanza breaks the form of the previous stanzas in that the prayer is found in the fourth & fifth lines, rather than the final couplet: Here he prays that God will repeat the promise, “all are thine.” It then ends with a final promise of future praise.

Notes:

The image here is of one who bestows the feast: God speaks to the cups which hold this grace and he bids them continually be filled with grace. 

Indeed, the entire stanza is about speaking: And since it is God is speaking the words are efficacious (And God let there be light, etc.)

Thou to the cups dost SAY (that catch this wine)

This liquor, golden pipes, and wine-vats plain,

“Whether Paul, Apollos, Cephas, all are thine.”

Oh golden WORD! Lord SPEAK it o’re again

Lord SPEAK it home to me, SAY these are mine.

My bells shall then thy praises bravely CHIME.

This stanza is a plea for God to speak directly to Taylor, “Say, these are mine.”

But there is an interesting shift in the address of the first three lines of the stanza. Poet speaks to and of God speaking

You, God, say to the cups, “All [these things] are thine.” The cups are not something separate from the poet, he does not take up a cup: he is the cup. God blesses the cup – who is the poet – and says to him: All these things are yours.

So far, the emphasis in the poem has been on grace of salvation. But here the scope and breadth of that salvation is made plain: It is not a bare escape from hell but rather a great promise.

Now, there is something interesting in the section of the promise which Taylor selects, the three names Paul, Apollos, Cephas (Peter). In the passage selected, Paul has been speaking to the Corinthians concerning their fighting one-another under the banner of this or that preacher: Some say they follow Paul, some Apollos, I follow Peter. Paul explains that God does all the work and the ministers are merely those who serve God in his work. Immediately after the passage quoted by Taylor, Paul will go onto state that ministers are “stewards of the mysteries of God.” They are those delivering someone else’s property. 

Thomas Watson, an English Puritan and near contemporary of Taylor, gave this sense of the clause quoted by Taylor:  “Under these words, ‘Paul and Apollos,’ by a figure are comprehended all the ministers of Christ, the weakest as well as the eminentest. ‘Paul and Apollos are yours,’ viz. their labours are for edifying the church. They are the helpers of your faith; the parts of a minister are not given for himself, they are the church’s.” Thomas Watson, The Christian’s Charter of Privileges.

Taylor hiself was a minister. And while I have no idea of how he felt or thought upon the day this poem was drafted (beyond the poem itself), I could see some peculiar encouragement to a pastor in these words. God has redeemed Taylor – God has also given Taylor all things. He has given Taylor the work of other Christian ministers.

But God has also given Taylor for others in this particular capacity. 

And Taylor states that having received this grace from God, he will turn around praise this grace of God, As he hears these words over again, he will in turn chime the praise of God to others. Thus, in a manner, Taylor is taken up into the promise of Paul’s letter. 

This meditation being a preparation for the service which Taylor would lead for his congregation, this promise of “all things are thine” and the promise that he will praise God works out in the fact of Taylor’s ministry.

Moreover, the poem itself answers to this promise to praise God. By writing the poem, Taylor is in fact praising God.

Musical

The accents are interesting: I have marked the irregular lines:

THOU to the CUPS dost SAY (that CATCH this WINE)

This liquor, golden pipes, and wine-vats plain,

WHEther Paul, Apollos, Cephas, all are thine.

OH GOLDen WORD! LORD SPEAK it O’RE aGAIN

LORD SPEAK it HOME to ME,  SAY THESE are MINE.

My bells shall then thy praises bravely chime.

The accents help to direct the attention of the speech. The first line of the stanza accents “Thou”: it gets attention and functions like a greeting. The fourth and fifth lines of the stanza are over-accented. Each word must be said separately and slowly which creates substantial emphasis. This makes sense, because they two lines are the petition of the prayer. The last line is part of the prayer, but it is a promise of future praise, not a request from God. 

The repetition of the phrase, “Lord speak” coupled with the strongly emphasized syllables creates an impassioned plea: Lord, say these words, give me assurance this is true: I know it is so, I just want to hear it again. This is the sort of intensity of the lover saying, “Say you love me again.” Or the pardoned criminal, “Say it again, I can hardly believe I have been freed.”

Edward Taylor, Meditation 32, Stanza 4

18 Thursday Mar 2021

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Fourth Stanza

Then Grace, my Lord, wrought in thy heart a vent

Thy soft soft hand to this hard work did go  (20)

And to the milk white Throne of Justice went 

And entered bond that Grace might overflow

Hence did thy Person to my nature tie

And bleed through human veins to satisfy.

Summary: This stanza turns to the means by which the grace of God was actually conveyed. The paradox and wonder of the Christian Gospel is laid out. The grace of God was provided with his own blood (as Paul puts in Acts 20:28, “the church of God which he obtained with his own blood”). In line 19, the blood comes from a vent in the heart of God. In line 24, that blood was shed through “human veins”. And in a further paradox, this pardon and mercy were obtained from the “Throne of Justice.”

Notes: 

First, note the agent of this work:

Then Grace, my Lord, wrought in thy heart a vent

Thy soft soft hand to this hard work did go  

In line 19, the agent is “grace” – as if it were an actor. In line 20, it is God’s own “hand” (his own agency). Placing “grace” as the primary motivation for this action is foregrounded in Ephesians: 

Ephesians 1:2–10 (AV) 

2 Grace be to you, and peace, from God our Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ. 

3 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenlyplaces in Christ: 4 According as he hath chosen us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before him in love:

5 Having predestinated us unto the adoption of children by Jesus Christ to himself, according to the good pleasure of his will, 6 To the praise of the glory of his grace, wherein he hath made us accepted in the beloved. 

7 In whom we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace; 8 Wherein he hath abounded toward us in all wisdom and prudence; 

9 Having made known unto us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure which he hath purposed in himself: 10 That in the dispensation of the fulness of times he might gather together in one all things in Christ, both which are in heaven, and which are on earth; even in him:

And:

Ephesians 2:1–8 (AV) 

1 And you hath he quickened, who were dead in trespasses and sins; 2 Wherein in time past ye walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience: 3 Among whom also we all had our conversation in times past in the lusts of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the mind; and were by nature the children of wrath, even as others. 

4 But God, who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us, 5 Even when we were dead in sins, hath quickened us together with Christ, (by grace ye are saved;) 6 And hath raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus: 7 That in the ages to come he might shew the exceeding riches of his grace in hiskindness toward us through Christ Jesus. 8 For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: 

Note also the same movement of thought in Ephesians 2 as in Taylor’s poem: I am in rebellion (“Children of disobedience”), but God has shown me grace in Jesus Christ. 

This hard work: Is the death of Christ. The love of God, the grace of God is the motivation; God himself is the actor:

John 10:17–18 (AV)

17 Therefore doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life, that I might take it again. 18 No man taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. This commandment have I received of my Father.

This work of mercy is done at the Throne of Justice: God’s mercy is not contrary to God’s justice: In forgiving the rebel, God establishes justice. The penalty of sin is fulfilled by Christ.

This then brings us to the couplet:

Hence did thy Person to my nature tie

And bleed through human veins to satisfy.

Two things are present here: Again we come to a paradox of the Incarnation. God fulfills the demands of the Law which were imposed upon human beings by becoming a human being: Thus, the penalty of death was paid by a human being  on behalf of human beings.

And in so doing, the Son “tied” himself to human nature in the person of Jesus (which is of two natures and one person). 

Justice bleeds mercy. God bleeds as a man. Grace is shown to the rebellious. The innocent gives life for the guilty. God is the agent of fulfilling justice and mercy at the same moment. 

Yahweh Elohim in the Old Testament, though just, holy, zealous for his honor, and full of ire against sin, is also gracious, merciful, eager to forgive, and abounding in steadfast love (Exod. 20:5–6; 34:6–7; Deut. 4:31; Ps. 86:15; etc.). In the New Testament God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, is the God of all grace and mercy (Luke 6:36; 2 Cor. 1:3; 1 Peter 5:10). There is no antithesis between the Father and Christ. As full of love, merciful, and ready to forgive as Christ is, so is the Father. It is his words that Christ speaks, his works he does. The Father is himself the Savior (σωτηρ; Luke 1:47; 1 Tim. 1:1; Titus 3:4–5), the One who in Christ reconciles the world to himself, not counting its trespasses against it (2 Cor. 5:18–19). Christ, therefore, did not first by his work move the Father to love and grace, for the love of the Father is antecedent and comes to manifestation in Christ, who is himself a gift of God’s love (John 3:16; Rom. 5:8; 8:32; 1 John 4:9–10).

Herman Bavinck, John Bolt, and John Vriend, Reformed Dogmatics: Sin and Salvation in Christ, vol. 3 (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2006), 368.

Musical:

There are two lines which deserve special consideration. First, 

Thy soft soft hand to this hard work did go  

First, the repetition of “soft” slows down the line and creates a contrast with “hard”. The accented words are soft soft hand … hard work … go. We have an extra accent in this line. The emphatic ‘soft’ thus helps to underscore the paradox: 

Next note the  hand … hard work. Hand and hard come on opposite sides of the line pause, which is an element of Anglo-Saxon alliterative poetry: it holds the halfs of the line closely together. Next the “r” of “hard”  is picked up in work. 

The opening of the couplet begins with an accented “Hence.” This draws the conclusion from the proceeding passage. The conclusion is not a logical deduction but rather the working out of this work of grace: To fulfill justice, extend mercy, rescue me, My Lord tied his nature to mine.

Edward Taylor, Meditation 32, Second Stanza

14 Sunday Mar 2021

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Stanza Two

But plunged I am, my mind is puzzled

When I would spin my fancy thus unspun

In finest twine of praise I’m muzzled

My tazzled thoughts twirled into snick-snarls run. (10)

Thy grace my lord is such a glorious things

It doth confound me when I would it sing. 

Summary: The quatrain speaks directly of his inability to form adequate thoughts of the subject matter. He then turns to God confesses, that the glorious nature of grace overwhelms his capacity to speak on the subject. 

Notes

The quatrain which lays out his frustration demonstrates in itself the difficulty he is having. Imagine one who says that he is quite frightened and is perfectly composed: the proposition and the person would not match. Here, the proposition and the presentation do match.

The concept is relatively simple: The image is of one spinning yarn from wool. The act of bringing his imaginative powers – his “fancy” – into an orderly and fit presentation of verse is like wool being spun into yarn. And yet, rather than an orderly creation of yarn, his yarn has “unspun.” His fancy has not resulted in an orderly poem, but his imagination has “unspun.”

In finest twine of praise I’m muzzled

My tazzled thoughts twirled into snick-snarls run.

Drawing together his image of spinning yarn with the work of creating a poem is a “twine of praise.” But here, rather than the production of praise, there is nothing, “I’m muzzled.” Which is ironic, because this muzzled poem is speaking. 

The ninth line is wonderful. There is a spinning of thoughts, but they, they are twirled, but they are also “tazzled.” 

Tazzle is an uncommon word. A glossary of the dialect of the hundred of Lonsdale. Together with an essay on some leading characteristics spoken in the six northern counties of England. Ed. by J. C. Atkinson, defines “tazzle” as a wicked, drunken person. That definition does not help much but, The The English Dialect Dictionary, Being the Complete Vocabulary of All Dialect Words Still in Use, Or Known to Have Been in Use During the Last Two Hundred Years: T-Z. Supplement. Bibliography. Grammar, published in 1905, and edited by Joseph Wright

has “tazzle” a dialect formation of “teazle” to entangle. Thus, “tangled, fuzzy, twisted, knotted; a tangle, a state of disorder, esp. used of hair.” Which meets the case: this thoughts are tangled up. 

They are not merely tazzled, they are twirled and finally in a snick-snarl, which is exactly as it sounds. 

The poem which runs through my mind as a comparative exercise is Shakespeare’s sonnet 23 with the lines

Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage,

Whose strength’s abundance weakens his own heart

The very desire and necessity of the poem makes the poem impossible to construct. The glorious grace of God is such that what poem could address such glory?

The couple makes an interesting move. He has been describing his jumbled thoughts, apparently to a reader. But at the couplet he turns from the human audience and directly addresses God:

Thy grace my lord is such a glorious things

It doth confound me when I would it sing. 

Here we come to a confession: At this point is matches most closely with the tone of sonnet 23. It is the very desire to speak which has tied my tongue.

Poetical:

As a final point, to describe the effects of sound and sense would be take away from their effect. Rather than comprehended this particular stanza must merely spoken and experienced.  Although not the sing-song chant of Dr. Seuss, I delight in sounds and sense is evident. Another possible comparison would be some poetry of Lewis Carol, like Jabberwocky.

Edward Taylor, Meditation 32

12 Friday Mar 2021

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Thy grace, dear Lord’s my golden wrack, I find

Screwing my fancy into ragged rhymes, 

Tuning thy praises in my feeble mind

Until I come to strike them on my chimes. 

Were I an angel bright, and borrow could (5)

King David’s harp, I would them play on gold.

Summary: In this stanza, the poet speaks of how painful it is for him to write these mediatory poems. If he had access to David’s greater gift, he would use it. 

General Notes:  What a remarkable introduction to a poem. The grace of God is both a wrack and screw. These implements of torture were in actual use by the English government (of which Taylor was a subject, even though he lived in the New England) at the time was written.

This does make an interesting discussion of Taylor’s creative process: He is faced with an extraordinary good. He finds himself compelled to translate the beauty with which he is faced into poetry. 

However, this process has two effects upon him. As has been the case many of the meditations, the contemplation of the grace of God causes in him an overwhelming sense of his own unworthiness and sinfulness. 

In this poem he references a related though distinct response: Here he finds himself inadequate to the process. He is unable to adequately make the translation.

The compulsion to write, to sense of sin and the inability to match the original he experiences like an implement of torture. In fact, when it comes to actual creation of the poem, the process is a torment, because he is the one operating the screw. 

Instrument Of Torture Stock Photos and Pictures | Getty Images

These responses are interestingly not inconsistent with the biblical account. 

This coming into knowing contact with the holy has a profound effect. Consider two stories of the disciples making a realization of the true nature of Jesus:

Luke 5:1–10 (AV) 

1 And it came to pass, that, as the people pressed upon him to hear the word of God, he stood by the lake of Gennesaret, 2 And saw two ships standing by the lake: but the fishermen were gone out of them, and were washing their nets. 3 And he entered into one of the ships, which was Simon’s, and prayed him that he would thrust out a little from the land. And he sat down, and taught the people out of the ship. 4 Now when he had left speaking, he said unto Simon, Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught. 5 And Simon answering said unto him, Master, we have toiled all the night, and have taken nothing: nevertheless at thy word I will let down the net. 6 And when they had this done, they inclosed a great multitude of fishes: and their net brake. 7 And they beckoned unto their partners, which were in the other ship, that they should come and help them. And they came, and filled both the ships, so that they began to sink. 8 When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord. 9 For he was astonished, and all that were with him, at the draught of the fishes which they had taken: 10 And so was also James, and John, the sons of Zebedee, which were partners with Simon. And Jesus said unto Simon, Fear not; from henceforth thou shalt catch men. 

Or in Mark 4, when Jesus stills the storm:

Mark 4:40–41 (AV) 

40 And he said unto them, Why are ye so fearful? how is it that ye have no faith? 41 And they feared exceedingly, and said one to another, What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him? 

But more to the point in this particular stanza are two instances from the prophet Jeremiah. In chapter 20, the prophet has determined that he will no longer speak because it has become too painful for him:

Jeremiah 20:7–9 (AV) 

7 O LORD, thou hast deceived me, and I was deceived: thou art stronger than I, and hast prevailed: I am in derision daily, every one mocketh me. 8 For since I spake, I cried out, I cried violence and spoil; because the word of the LORD was made a reproach unto me, and a derision, daily. 9 Then I said, I will not make mention of him, nor speak any more in his name. But his word was in mine heart as a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I was weary with forbearing, and I could not stay. 

And the Lord speaking to the prophet:

Jeremiah 23:29 (AV) 

29 Is not my word like as a fire? saith the LORD; and like a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces? 

The pain of the first three gives way to an expression: First, there is tuning (line 4) and then striking the music on chimes (line 5). What we have with the poem before us is the tune struck out on chimes. 

The only adequate response to such grace would be found in a heavenly access ot David’s prophetic poetry. Only in heaven could there be sufficient skill and language for this task.

Poetics:

The stanza used is a quatrain of iambic pentameter followed by a couplet. The rhyme scheme is ABABCC.

The effect of the first three lines is striking:

Thy grace, dear Lord’s my golden wrack, I find

Screwing my fancy into ragged rhymes, 

Tuning thy praises in my feeble mind

Until I come to strike them on my chimes. 

There are two pauses in the first line, one after the first foot (thy grace) and at the last foot (I find). By using two pauses and breaking at the last foot, the words “I find” are joined to the second line. The second and third lines begin with an accented syllable. The iamb at the end of line one followed the accented first syllable in line two drives the poem along, almost as if it were falling downstairs.

By repeating the accent on the first syllable of the third line, it creates a parallel structure. Screwing: tuning. 

What is interesting with the second verb is we move from torment to music: It is as the poem begins with the tuning.

The end rhythms of the second and third lines also match: RAGged RHYMES/FEEble MIND. 

Since all end rhymes contain a long “I”, (find/rhyme/mind/chimes) there are full and near rhymes on every line.

The final couplet work similar to the couplet in a Shakespearean sonnet: there is a discontinuance and comment in the couplet upon that which proceeds. 

Here he moves from the discussion of his own creative process to an aside of what could be: If I were David, if I were an angel, this would be better. 

Robert Browning, Incident of the French Camp, Stanzas 4 & 5

09 Tuesday Mar 2021

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IV. 

“Well,” cried he, “Emperor, by God’s grace 
“We’ve got you Ratisbon! 
“The Marshal’s in the market-place, 
“And you’ll be there anon 
“To see your flag-bird flap his vans 
“Where I, to heart’s desire, 
“Perched him!” The chief’s eye flashed; his plans 
Soared up again like fire. 

In this stanza we hear from the boy, who, as we learned above, was shot threw. The boy is an extasy it seems. The tight lips of the third stanza were from his effort to make the announcement –not grim determination.

The Marshall is Lannes. The French have taken the city. The “flag-bird” is Napoleon’s eagle. 

And here we come to the summit of the boy’s joy: 

Where I, to heart’s desire,

Perched him!

It was the desire of the boy to perch the Emperor’s flag.  The boy was no fighting for something abstract, like his country. He was fighting for someone concrete, the “chief.”

It is Napoleon’s plan that are his joy. So both the boy and Napoleon can join in the same hope.


V. 

The chief’s eye flashed; but presently 
Softened itself, as sheathes 
A film the mother-eagle’s eye 
When her bruised eaglet breathes; 
“You’re wounded!” “Nay,” the soldier’s pride 
Touched to the quick, he said: 
“I’m killed, Sire!” And his chief beside 
Smiling the boy fell dead.

Here the Emperor is made human for a moment. The description of the tear forming in Napoleon’s eyes makes for an interesting basis of sympathy. 

His eyes at first flashed – with victory. Then the eye soften when it took in the boy. 

The language of a mother eagle with her eaglet is appropriate – because Napoleon’s symbol was the eagle. It was the eagle flag which the boy posted in the town. 

He finally notices that the boy is wounded. He blurts out, “You’re wounded!”

And here comes the surprise – at the end of the poem. This is the “incident”. It is why the story was so remarkable that the unnamed French soldier is telling this to you. 

He has spoken of the precarious position of Napoleon. Of the boy’s announcement. Of the surprising sympathy of Napoleon. 

But this surprise works almost as if a joke:

Napoleon says, You are wounded. 

The boy says, Nope, I’m not wounded! I’m dead!

And then the boy falls smiling, down.

The only explanation for the boy’s action is given as

                        the soldier’s pride 
Touched to the quick,

The boy is not a soldier in this instant, he is a soldier.  The boy has become something important in his own eyes – and since he has honored the Napoleon, that pride and accomplishment is objectively true. 

The boy then dies, smiling before the “chief.”

Note the use of the S’s and B’s to structure the lines:

The chief’S eye flaShed; but presently 
Softened itSelf, as SheatheS 
A film the mother-eagle’s eye 
When her Bruised eaglet Breathes; 
“You’re wounded!” “Nay,” the Soldier’S pride 
Touched to the quick, he Said: 
“I’m killed, Sire!” And his chief beSide 
Smiling the boy fell dead.

Also by ending the poem and the line on the word “dead,” Browning drives home the “punch-line” (if you will). 

Robert Browning, Incident of the French Camp, Stanzas 2 & 3

06 Saturday Mar 2021

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II. 
Just as perhaps he mused “My plans 
“That soar, to earth may fall, 
“Let once my army-leader Lannes 
“Waver at yonder wall,”— 
Out ‘twixt the battery-smokes there flew 
A rider, bound on bound 
Full-galloping; nor bridle drew 
Until he reached the mound. 

The second stanza breaks up into two even sections of four lines each. The first four lines concern Napoleon’s apparent dialogue with himself. But this is where Browning’s subtly comes in:

“Just as perhaps he mused.”

The poem works with two different frames of reference. It is in fact a second person account in which you personally addressed by a French soldier a short way from the battle. The whole is being explained to you by him (I guess it is possible that Browning has in mind a female camp follower of some sort, but the closeness to the battle makes that unlikely; hence a male soldier – there were not female fighters in Napoleon’s ranks.

Now this soldier reporter speaks in a tone similar to a third person narrator and it would be easy to think this so. But pay attention: He does not know what is actually in the Emperor’s mind. So our narrator gives us a supposition.  You are being invited to follow in his supposition. While told a story with an almost objectivity, you are being asked to see the event through the understanding of an unnamed soldier.

Here, just like the first stanza, we see Napoleon not as master of Europe, but rather as a man in a precarious place wholly dependent upon others. Napoleon may rise on this win or be crashed. And all depends upon Lannes, his Marshall. If Lannes fails, then Napoleon fails. If the army fails, the emperor fails. 

The image from the first stanza of an worried sovereign on a little mound, comes back here as an echo. What sort of mound does the emperor stand upon? We will soon see that he stands upon the backs of the dead. His Kingdom is in the hands of Lannes.

The soldier who has just lived through this battle is asking you to understand the emperor in a particular manner. This is not a lecture on war, or class structure, or any similar thing. This is a invitation to view Napoleon’s battles from the eyes of those who fight and die or live.

Moreover, it is never precisely vicious concerning Napoleon. There is a constant strain of the precarious nature of the leader’s position. His glory is as contingent as the life of everyone else. The poem is neither jingoistic, nor is it anti-war. Instead, by the use of this narrator, Browning causes of to empathize, to feel the world through the eyes of this other people.

This brings us to the second half of the stanza: A messenger in full haste rushes up to the “mound.” He has been riding his horse with abandon.  And so just as Napoleon is concerning himself with whether the day will be won, tidings come.


III. 

Then off there flung in smiling joy, 
And held himself erect 
By just his horse’s mane, a boy: 
You hardly could suspect— 
(So tight he kept his lips compressed, 
Scarce any blood came through) 
You looked twice ere you saw his breast 
Was all but shot in two. 

An English poet of this time cannot be assumed to have ignorance of Shakespeare. And so the dim echo of Macbeth in this scene is likely haunting the background. The King is upon the scene of the battle anxious for information as to how the battle has gone. 

DUNCAN

What bloody man is that? He can report,
As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt
The newest state.

MALCOLM

This is the sergeant
Who like a good and hardy soldier fought
‘Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend!
Say to the king the knowledge of the broil
As thou didst leave it.

Sergeant

Doubtful it stood;
As two spent swimmers, that do cling together
And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald–
Worthy to be a rebel, for to that
The multiplying villanies of nature
Do swarm upon him–from the western isles
Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied;
And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
Show’d like a rebel’s whore: but all’s too weak:
For brave Macbeth–well he deserves that name–
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish’d steel,
Which smoked with bloody execution,
Like valour’s minion carved out his passage
Till he faced the slave;
Which ne’er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
Till he unseam’d him from the nave to the chaps,
And fix’d his head upon our battlements.


The sergeant is played in Browning’s poem by the boy. Macbeth cuts a man’s chest in two. The boy himself as been cut in two. Both Kings, Duncan and Napoleon, have their kingdom’s and lives in the hands of other men whose death keeps them alive (although not in Browning’s mind, there is something vampire like where the King’s life is maintained by the loss of other’s blood). 

The reference to a “boy” in the battle is poignant. As Napoleon’s wars increased, he continued to obtain younger soldiers to replenish the men who had died. 

What is not suspected: The boy’s bloody condition. In the movement of the words, there is a hint that the messenger being a boy might have been the surprise. 

The boy’s face and chest are odds with one-another. The boy holds his lips so tightly together that “scarce any blood came through”. This is suggestive but not entirely clear: Does he me that no blood was in his lips and thus his lips were white? Or is there a wound somewhere which is being hidden, is he bleeding from his mouth. 

Whatever the precise reference, by looking at his bloodless lips you do not suspect the ravaged chest.

Robert Browning, Incident of the French Camp, First Stanza

05 Friday Mar 2021

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The poem forms a short story. On August 23, 1809, the French Army under the leadership of then-Emperor Napoleon engaged in a battle at the walled city of Ratisbon. A breach in the walls led to three advances into the city, all of which were defeated. On a third advance, the Marshall Lannes (a general office, just below Napoleon himself) made way to lead a fourth advance through the breach. Lannes is reported to have said to troops, understandably reluctant to charge through a breach which had seen three defeats in short order, “I will let you see that I was a grenadier before I was a marshal and still am one.” Lannes’ men held him back, and the troops rallied for a fourth, successful assault. During the battle, Napoleon suffered a rare, minor injury to his foot.

The poem describes the scene of a young soldier returning to make a report of a successful taking of the city. The young man having given the news falls down dead.

The first stanza sets the scene:

I

You know, we French stormed Ratisbon: 
A mile or so away,

On a little mound, Napoleon 
Stood on our storming-day; 
With neck out-thrust, you fancy how, 
Legs wide, arms locked behind, 
As if to balance the prone brow 
Oppressive with its mind. 

The first words of this poem are critical to understand the whole. If you miss those words, you miss what is taking place. If we drop those words, the poet would be writing from the objective, third person narrator; the one who truly knows what is going on with every character. We the reader, are watching the whole scene from a distance.

But the first words subtly shift the meaning in two important ways. First, our perspective on the event does not come from a third person objective narrator, but it comes from an eyewitness. Second, we are not at home with a book of poetry in our hand sipping tea and admiring Browning’s skill.

If we are going to follow Browning, we must be present at the scene of the conquest of Ratisbon. First, we are speaking with a witness to the event:

You know, we French stormed Ratisbon: 

The narrator is a mere of the French army. You are not, the use of “you” and “we” create two distinct groups. This is why you were not present at the events. 

Second, you are not far from the scene of the battle, but you were not directly affected, the narrator has to remind you of the battle. If you home had been burnt, he probably would not be talking with you.

Third, you are near the battle, 

You know, we French stormed Ratisbon: 
A mile or so away,

This then leads to a question: Why is the soldier telling you the story? Is he proud, amused, incredulous, angry? 

Whatever the case, you only truly understand this poem if you see it as a conversation with a French soldier lately at the battle. You are brought into this piece of gossip.

The narrator then begins to set the scene. It centers upon Napoleon (as everything in Napoleon’s world did). 

On a little mound, Napoleon 
Stood on our storming-day; 
With neck out-thrust, you fancy how, 
Legs wide, arms locked behind, 
As if to balance the prone brow 
Oppressive with its mind. 

The narrator here begins to let us into how he sees the event: Napoleon stands “on a little mound.” Here is the Emperor, the terror Europe, the most powerful man in the world, standing on a “little mound.”  The prosaic point that Napoleon stood on an elevation to get a sight of the whole has been described in charged terms: “little mound” That is biting. 

Napoleon is also not present at the battle: he is standing while the soldiers are fighting and dying (as we will learn)

Napoleon 
Stood on our storming-day; 

Although not a direct allusion, this reminds me of a scene from the Bible:

2 Samuel 11:1 (ESV) 

In the spring of the year, the time when kings go out to battle, David sent Joab, and his servants with him, and all Israel. And they ravaged the Ammonites and besieged Rabbah. But David remained at Jerusalem. 

The great general is apart from his troops. But at least Napoleon is at the scene of the battle.

Notice also that you are drawn back into the scene. You know what Napoleon looks like. You are being made a confidant. 

With neck out-thrust, you fancy how, 

And finally Napoleon is a distress, two forces are opposed in him and he struggles to balance all:

With neck out-thrust, you fancy how, 
Legs wide, arms locked behind, 
As if to balance the prone brow 
Oppressive with its mind. 

This scene sets up the tentative nature of Napoleon’s position. The emperor on a little mound is reduced to a mere observer. This brings us to the next stanza

Measure for Measure, Human Nature, and Original Sin

26 Friday Feb 2021

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Claudio to Lucio

From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty.

As surfeit is the father of much fast,

So every scope by the immoderate use

Turns to restraint. Our natures do pursue,

Like rats that ravin down their proper bane,

A thirsty evil, and when we drink, we die.

Measure for Measure, Act I, ii, 122-127.

These lines are fascinating from a few perspectives. First, they present a theme (perhaps  the theme) of the play. But I am interested in the structure of this short argument, and it works both make a logical case and an affective case. It would be hard to make such a compressed and persuasive argument in such few words. 

Background on the lines. 

Claudio is being led through the street as a prisoner. Lucio, a friend, sees him and asks what he has done. Lucio has been making sexually charged jokes about prostitutes and disease with some acquaintances and with a pimp and a madam. 

Claudio has been arrested for fornication. He got his fiancée pregnant (they were holding off on a dowery increase). The very strict and straightlaced interim ruler has enforced a law which the Duke (now “absent”) had allowed to go unheeded.

Claudio has been taken for the excess of his sexual behavior. Interestingly, Angelo, the interim ruler will face his own sexual politics and will be caught in the same vein as Claudio.

This short speech consists of three elements: First, a direct, albeit cryptic answer:

From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty.

Second: an observation of the general movement of human life. This is the pattern I followed to be destroyed:

As surfeit is the father of much fast,

So every scope by the immoderate use

Turns to restraint. 

Third: an explanation of the psychological process which gives rise to the pattern of human behavior.

                                    Our natures do pursue,

Like rats that ravin down their proper bane,

A thirsty evil, and when we drink, we die.

First, the answer:

Question (Lucio):

Why, how now, Claudio? Whence comes this restraint?

Answer:

From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty.

Lucio does not know what this means and will directly ask if it was murder.

The line is well constructed:

From too much LIBerty, my LUcio, LIBerty.

I’m not sure what to do with the other syllables: The accent could fall any of the other words, thus giving a different nuance of meaning. Why is clear is the alliteration on the L (and m: much, my). The L will drop out of the rest of the speech underscoring the use here. 

The answer is ironic: he speaks of liberty and that is precisely what he does not have. The nature of the liberty is unclear.

The characters have just been speaking of the bawdy houses being torn down, so the background of liberty and immorality in play.  Liberty and constraint will be a theme which will work out. 

In the next scene, the Duke will explain himself to a friar. There were many laws which the Duke had failed to enforce. He has left his position so that Angelo can reinstate and apply those laws. He explains the effect his failure to enforce laws has had:

For terror, not to use – in time the rod

More mocked than feared – so our decrees,

Dead to infliction, to themselves are dead,

And liberty plucks justice by the nose,

The baby beats the nurse, and quiet athwart 

Goes all decorum

I.3. xxvii-xxxii.

So a liberty which counters order and justice is an issue which the play will consider.

Second, the observation:

This is stated in the form of a natural law, like gravity:

As surfeit is the father of much fast,

So every scope by the immoderate use

Turns to restraint. 

Claudio notes a principle of human life: an excess ends in its opposite so as to bring balance. This principle of balance is a theme throughout Shakespeare and takes its origin from the Galen theory of humors and the need to balance humors in the body.

The physician’s task was to diagnose which humor was out of balance; treatment then focused on restoring equilibrium by diet or by reducing the offending, out-of-balance humor by evacuating it.

(For the theory in Shakespeare see here: ):

This statement of a natural principle and pattern is exactly 2.5 lines long. It will be matched by another line of 2.5 lines. 

There is a light alliteration which holds the lines together: S & F: Surfeit, Scope, Father- Fast. The R in the final word will tie these lines to the following.

The use of the word father is ironic: Claudio’s “fast”, his imprisonment is because he is a father. 

And so far we have moral principle: excessive liberty leads to restraint. A principle of medicine and psychology: when one aspect of human life (a humor) is in excess, a contrary principle must be put into place to bring balance. 

This leads to a question: If balance and order are the good which we should seek to achieve, then what would bring a human being to act beyond moderation?

Third: The psychological process:

                        Our natures do pursue,

Like rats that ravin down their proper bane,

A thirsty evil, and when we drink, we die.

This is a deeply Christian observation. It has to do with the concept of original sin. Original sin is often reduced to, guilt for a wrong I did not commit. (See, Finnegans Wake). Article 9 of the 39 Articles of the Church of England reads:

Original sin is not found merely in the following of Adam’s example (as the Pelagians foolishly say). It is rather to be seen in the fault and corruption which is found in the nature of every person who is naturally descended from Adam. The consequence of this is that man is far gone from his original state of righteousness. In his own nature he is predisposed to evil, the sinful nature in man always desiring to behave in a manner contrary to the Spirit. In every person born into this world there is fund this predisposition which rightly deserves God’s anger and condemnation. This infection within man’s nature persists even within those who are regenerate. This desire of the sinful nature, which in Greek is called fronema sarkos and is variously translated the wisdom or sensuality or affection or desire of the sinful nature, is not under control of God’s law. Although there is no condemnation for those that believe and are baptized, nevertheless the apostle states that any such desire is sinful. 

Look back at Claudio’s explanation: the fault springs from our “nature”.  Now consider carefully the article:

It is rather to be seen in the fault and corruption which is found in the nature of every person who is naturallydescended from Adam. The consequence of this is that man is far gone from his original state of righteousness. In his own nature he is predisposed to evil, the sinful nature in man always desiring to behave in a manner contrary to the Spirit…. This infection within man’s nature persists even within those who are regenerate. This desire of the sinful nature,

Our “natures pursue” their own destruction by a compulsion “man is always desiring”.

Our nature is like a rat – which is a striking image – that ravin: ravin is an act of rapine, it is a greedy, thoughtless criminal desire and action – ravin down poison: a “proper bane,” that is, my own poison, the poison that is “proper” to me. It is a “thirsty evil”: it is never satisfied, never quenched. Moreover, this desire is such that fulfilling it brings its own destruction:

When we drink, we die.

Musically, the lines are held together by the use of R which picks up the R in restraint found in Lucio’s question and in the middle of Claudio’s answer:

Restraint – restraint – rats that ravin.

We have pursue-proper. And finally, drink-die.

The use of this imagery to illustrate and explain the psychological process which leads to self-destruction is very effective. It would have even more to the point for the original audience, who were faced constantly with the menace and evil of filthy rats. 

There is one final point in this observation: Shakespeare is condemning the audience along with the character’s self-condemnation. He is making a categorical statement about humanity: Our nature. When we drink, we die. 

Which means that as we read this, we are drawn into the scope of the play. It is our nature, our drinking, our death.

Robert Browning, The Lost Mistress

21 Sunday Feb 2021

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All’s over, then: does truth sound bitter 

As one at first believes? 

Hark, ’tis the sparrows’ good-night twitter 

About your cottage eaves! 

And the leaf-buds on the vine are woolly, 

I noticed that, today; 

One day more bursts them open fully 

– You know the red turns grey. 

Tomorrow we meet the same then, dearest? 

May I take your hand in mine? 

Mere friends are we, – well, friends the merest 

Keep much that I resign: 

For each glance of the eye so bright and black, 

Though I keep with heart’s endeavor, – 

Your voice, when you wish the snowdrops back, 

Though it stay in my soul for ever! – 

Yet I will but say what mere friends say, 

Or only a thought stronger; 

I will hold your hand but as long as all may, 

Or so very little longer! 

Summary: The poem itself is remarkably simple at one level. The poet is saying goodbye to a romantic relationship, not to the woman. As he parts from her home, their romance is over. Come the morning, they will be “friends.”  

What makes the poem striking is the manner in which Browning sketches this awkward, ambivalent moment. He works out the intricacy of the thoughts and emotions of the man who has lost the woman; revealing the shift in their relationship.

It is by turns delicate, melancholy, wicked, hopeful. This short piece is an absolute gem.

First Stanza 

All’s over, then: does truth sound bitter 

As one at first believes? 

Hark, ’tis the sparrows’ good-night twitter 

About your cottage eaves! 

Summary: There are three elements to this stanza: (1) the interjection; (2) the question; and (3) the seemingly irrelevant turn to the sparrows. He is saying a goodbye of sorts, and then he turns to the birds.

Notes:

All’s over: 

The poem is in the voice of the poet to the mistress. We pick up the story in the middle. Something has just happened, but what did happen is unknown to the reader. We’ve walked onto the intimate of moments between two people. The only thing we know is that is definitively over.

By not telling us more than the end has come, Browning puts our focus wholly upon the moment. There is no possible negotiation; our attention thus solely upon the now of their relationship.

The rhythm accentuates the meaning. The poem begins with two consecutive accented syllables. 

Then: does truth sound bitter 

As one at first believes? 

Just as the poem abruptly begins with the end, we see in these lines the subtle turn which is taking place. At first, the truth was bitter. But here is negotiating with the truth and his relationship to it. By saying the bitterness was “at first believe[d]”, he implies that perhaps his original bitterness could be otherwise. He is negotiating with his situation. 

This is not quite hopefulness for the relationship: he is not asking her to reconsider whatever has just taken place. But he is finding something here which will be new. Somehow the bitterness can be displaced.

This sets the agenda for the poem. The initial interjection closes the door on what has just happened. This pausing to think of bitterness opens the door to the movement through the remainder of the poem.

Hark, ’tis the sparrows’ good-night twitter 

About your cottage eaves! 

One misses the connection of these lines if the poem is considered as a straight logical argument. The sparrows from nothing directly to do with the proceeding events. But when we think of this as it would play out emotionally, we have a clue.

You are standing at the door of the woman whom you have loved, and now you must say goodbye to all that hope and desire and expectation. You were on the verge of being crushed and then there in the evening an idea begins to form. You have just been saved from bitterness. And in this moment of incipient joy or hope you notice the birds. The tiny sparrow twitter about her “cottage eaves” (which is much more becoming than “roofline”).

Finally, I can’t help but hearing Wordsworth’s Strange Fits of Passion in the background. I can’t prove it up, but somehow I think it’s lurking here.

Second Stanza

And the leaf-buds on the vine are woolly, 

I noticed that, today; 

One day more bursts them open fully 

– You know the red turns grey. 

He then continues with this lingering observation of her home. Yes, here are the sparrows. I hadn’t noticed them just a moment ago, and look her are the flowers on the vine. 

He is telling her notice that flowers are about to burst open: it will happen tomorrow. By the way, he has a resolution for tomorrow himself. 

The last line is vicious. It is easy to miss the point here and think that Browning is raising the commonplace observation that nothing is permanent. That would be boring. 

Think more carefully: You have just been rejected, on some unknown basis. You were on the verge of being crushed (bitterness) and then you had a change in thoughts. You are not going to be destroyed. You note the lovely sparrows. You note the flowers ready to burst open.

And then he says to her: You know all those flowers will die. He doesn’t say it directly. The vague way he raises the point makes it sound as if he is merely thinking out loud. 

But he tells his “lost mistress,” you know those flowers will die. Yes, that is a retrospective evaluation of his relationship: but the dying flowers are in the future. The death is not what he has just suffered, but what she will soon face. Her flowers have reached their zenith.

Third Stanza

Tomorrow we meet the same then, dearest? 

May I take your hand in mine? 

Mere friends are we, – well, friends the merest 

Keep much that I resign: 

Here begins the negotiation. He has gone from rejection in the first words to having some control over the circumstance. He has already suffered whatever loss he will suffer; her flowers have yet to face.

The “dearest” at the end of the first line is loaded. Is it plaintive? Ironic?

The complication then comes in the lines: (1) may I take your hand; (2) we will be “mere” friends.  These lines are negotiating the nature of their new relationship. 

Mere friends are we, – well, friends the merest 

The rhythm throws the accent on the first syllable. There are two pauses in one line. The chiasm: mere-friends-friends-mere drives the point home in an overkill:

MERE FRIENDS are we ….. well …. FRIENDS the MERest

The last line then introduces his “offer”

Stanza Four

Keep much that I resign: 

For each glance of the eye so bright and black, 

Though I keep with heart’s endeavor, – 

Your voice, when you wish the snowdrops back, 

Though it stay in my soul for ever! – 

This stanza reminds of John Donne’s poem “The Message” which begins:

Send home my long stray’d eyes to me, 

Which O too long have dwelt on thee, 

Yet since there they have learn’d such ill, 

Such forc’d fashions, 

And false passions, 

That they be 

Made by thee 

Fit for no good sight, keep them still.

But the possible allusion to Donne is ironic. Donne is sending everything back, but Browning returns nothing though it is resigned to her. Note the use of the word “though” in the second and fourth lines of the stanza:

For each glance of the eye so bright and black, 

Though I keep with heart’s endeavor, – 

Your voice, when you wish the snowdrops back, 

Though it stay in my soul for ever! – 

He offers back to her each glance she shared with him, and the sound of her voice. And yet, even if he returns it to her, it still remains in his heart and soul. She has already been communicated to him and this cannot be undone. 

So we have come to the place where she cannot obtain she apparently sought: a place where this had never taken place. She has already bestowed something upon him which she cannot retrieve. 

This trope of the lover turning over some secret token which cannot be retrieved and which has become a liability lurks in the background of these lines. 

This matter of love and loss has become significantly more dangerous. 

Which leads us to the conclusion

Fifth Stanza

Yet I will but say what mere friends say, 

Or only a thought stronger; 

I will hold your hand but as long as all may, 

Or so very little longer! 

He returns to the negotiated space of “mere friends” but now discloses what has happened. She has left the tokens with him, and since those tokens cannot be retrieved, even their position of “mere friends” is different.

He only raises the matters of speaking to her and holding her hand. But these matters were already raised above. He said things which mere friends would say, about sparrows and flowers – and yet what he has said is a “thought stronger.” There was more in his mentioning sparrows and flowers than would if someone else had spoken. 

When he touches her hand, it will be for no longer than anyone else. But she will know that something has happened here that has not happened among her other “mere friends.”