FET PHASE POEMSC

Grade 10 Home Language

Table of Content
‘They flee from me’ (Thomas Wya ‘Making clowns martyrs (or Retur
tt) ning home without chauffeurs’ (Ja
ck
‘The Indian burying ground (Philip Mapanje)
Freneau)
‘Small passing’ (Ingrid de Kok)
‘London, 1802’ (William Wordswo
rth) ‘What will they eat?’ (Mzi Mahola)

‘Amagoduka at Glencoe Station’ ( ‘Sedition’ (Cecil Rajendra)

Mbuyiseni Oswald
Mtshali) ‘Sonnet 130’ (William Shakespear
e)
‘A Martian sends a postcard hom
e’ (Craig Raine)
‘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
ex-lovers 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,
[Link] thin array after a pleasant guise,
[Link] 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,
[Link] thin array after a pleasant guise,
[Link] 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,
[Link] thin array after a pleasant guise,
[Link] 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.
[Link] she me caught in her arms long and small;
[Link] sweetly did me kiss
[Link] 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?”
[Link] she me caught in her arms long and small;
[Link] sweetly did me kiss
[Link] 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.
[Link] 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
[Link] all is turned thorough my
so stark as to resemble the difference between real life
gentleness
and dreams. He adamantly denies that the memory
[Link] a strange fashion of forsaking; described in the second stanza was a dream, the
caesura after "dream" adding emphasis to his insistence
[Link] I have leave to go of her
that he "lay broad waking." The mention of being awake
goodness,
also hints at another reason for lack of sleep, of course:
[Link] she also, to use newfangleness. the intimacy between himself and his lover!
[Link] since that I so kindly am served • With the above in mind, the fact that the speaker needs
21.I would fain know what she hath to affirm that the memory is true shows just how much
things have changed. Now, "all is turned" into
deserved.
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).
[Link] was no dream: I lay broad waking. • Now, the speaker has implicit permission from his
ex-lover to do as he pleases. She, for her part,
[Link] all is turned thorough my
appears to have given herself the liberty to "use
gentleness
newfangleness"—basically, to be fickle without
[Link] a strange fashion of forsaking; remorse. She is like the lovers described in the first
stanza—"[b]usily seeking with a continual change,"
[Link] I have leave to go of her
constantly looking for something new and exciting.
goodness,
Perhaps her interest in the speaker was not as
[Link] she also, to use newfangleness. sincere as it appeared, or perhaps she really did care
about the speaker but is able to move on quickly.
[Link] since that I so kindly am served
Either way, the speed with which people change
21.I would fain know what she hath their minds and discard lovers clearly unnerves the
deserved. 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,
[Link] 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.
[Link] bow, for action ready bent,
14. And arrows, with a head of stone,
[Link] 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.
[Link], stranger, that shalt come this way,
18. No fraud upon the dead commit—
[Link] 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.
[Link] 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.
[Link] oft a restless Indian queen
30. (Pale Shebah, with her braided hair)
[Link] 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.
[Link] midnight moons, o'er moistening dews;
34. In habit for the chase arrayed,
[Link] 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.
[Link] long shall timorous fancy see
38. The painted chief, and pointed spear,
[Link] 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 19th-century 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 [Link] 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 [Link] 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:
[Link] hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea:
[Link] 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.
[Link] didst thou travel on life's common way,
[Link] 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.
[Link] cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart
[Link] 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.
[Link] cheerful godliness; and yet thy heart
[Link] 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 • Note that the poet uses the pronoun ‘we’ in
line one. This gives us the sense that he
2 through the wattle forests of Vryheid,
identifies with his fellow travellers – he is
3 crossed the low-levelled Blood River part of a collective with shared
4 whose water flowed languidly experiences.

5 as if distorted for the • ‘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. • Line 6 refers to the Battle of Blood River.
This battle was fought between about 10
000 Zulus and 464 Voortrekkers in 1838
7 We passed the coalfields on Dundee – which marked a bitter defeat for Dingaan.
8 blackheads in the wrinkled face • Line 7 brings attention to the pollution
9 of Northern Zululand – caused by mining which had destroyed the
natural beauty of the area. It may also
10 until our train ultimately came serve as commentary on the greed of
11 to a hissing stop at Glencoe 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 • Line 13 and 14 creates a metaphor which
implies a comparison between the train
13 leaving the enraged train
and an angry bull making a great show of
14 to snort and charge at the night its bad temper. The exaggeration suggests
15 on its way to Durban. 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
16 The time was 8 p.m. 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, • In this stanza, the speaker switches to first
person, now sharing his experience as an
18 sagging under the weight of a heavy
individual. Apartheid strictly segregated
overcoat
people on the trains and signs indicated
19 I shambled to the ‘non-European Males’ who went where. He notes this without
waiting room commenting but assonance of sagging and
shambled suggests an attitude of derision
and resentment. Note ‘males’ is used
20 The room was crowded instead of men, this creates an
21 the air hung, a pall of choking odour, emasculating effect, as it removes their
humanity.
22 rotten meat, tobacco, and sour beer
• 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 • Lines 23 and 24 contains assonance in the
words ‘tight’ and ‘bite of winter’ which
24 against the sharp bite of winter.
suggest clenched teeth chattering in the
cold.
25 Amagoduka sat on bare floor • The speaker moves from ‘we’ (first person
26 their faces sucking the warmth plural) to ‘I’ (first person singular) and then
here to ‘their’ (line 26) which is in third-
27 of the coal fire crackling in the corner 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 • Poverty in indicated in the food – dry bread,
no proper cutlery or implements, tinned
29 scooped corned beef with rusty knives,
meat. But there is a hint of pride in the
30 and drank mqombothi from the plastic Zulu name for the traditional beer brewed
can from maize. The intimacy of sharing in the
31 which they passed from mouth to mouth community ‘mouth to mouth’ like
resuscitation they revive and restore one
another.
32 They spoke animatedly • Lines 32 and 33 show how undaunted the
33 and laughed in thunderous peals. Amagoduka are at their situation. The
metaphor in line 33 shows a comparison to
a powerful natural force which suggests the
34 A girl peeped through the door, strength of their spirit.
35 they shuddered at the sudden cold blast, • Lines 34-36 display what is considered very
36 jumped up to fondle and leer at her. 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
C

HOME’
(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

[Link] 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

[Link] 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.
[Link] is when the earth is television.
[Link] 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.
[Link] T is a room with the lock inside –
14.a key is turned to free the world

[Link] movement, so quick there is a film

[Link] 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.
[Link] T is a room with the lock inside –
14.a key is turned to free the world

[Link] movement, so quick there is a film

[Link] 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.
[Link] time is tied to the wrist
[Link] 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.
[Link] homes, a haunted apparatus sleeps,
[Link] snores when you pick it up.

[Link] the ghost cries, they carry it

[Link] their lips and soothe it to sleep

[Link] sounds. And yet, they wake it up

[Link], 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.
[Link] homes, a haunted apparatus sleeps,
[Link] snores when you pick it up.

[Link] the ghost cries, they carry it

[Link] their lips and soothe it to sleep

[Link] sounds. And yet, they wake it up

[Link], 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.
[Link] homes, a haunted apparatus sleeps,
[Link] snores when you pick it up.

[Link] the ghost cries, they carry it

[Link] their lips and soothe it to sleep

[Link] sounds. And yet, they wake it up

[Link], 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?
[Link] the young are allowed to suffer
[Link]. 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?
[Link] the young are allowed to suffer
[Link]. 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.
[Link]. Adults go to a punishment room

[Link] water but nothing to eat.

[Link] lock the door and suffer the noises

[Link]. No one is exempt

[Link] 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.
[Link]. Adults go to a punishment room

[Link] water but nothing to eat.

[Link] lock the door and suffer the noises

[Link]. No one is exempt

[Link] 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.
[Link]. Adults go to a punishment room

[Link] water but nothing to eat.

[Link] lock the door and suffer the noises

[Link]. No one is exempt

[Link] 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.
[Link] night, when all the colours die,
[Link] hide in pairs

[Link] read about themselves –

[Link] 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.
[Link] night, when all the colours die,
[Link] hide in pairs

[Link] read about themselves –

[Link] 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.
[Link] night, when all the colours die,
[Link] hide in pairs

[Link] read about themselves –

[Link] 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
C

CHAUFFEURS’
(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
C

SUN’
(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 old-fashioned 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.