"Sir Patrick Spens" by Anonymous

"Sir Patrick Spens" is a poem of Scottish origin, and has largely been passed down by tradition. No original author is known of and this poem is the only mention of Sir Patrick Spens in history.

     The king sits in Dumferling town
         Drinking the bluid-red wine:
     'O whar will I get a guid sailor
         To sail this ship of mine?'

     Up and spak an eldern knicht,
         Sat at the king's richt knee:
     'Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor
         That sails upon the sea.'

     The king has written a braid letter
         And signed it wi' his hand,
     And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,
         Was walking on the sand.

     The first line that Sir Patrick read
         A loud lauch lauched he;
     The next line that Sir Patrick read,
         The tear blinded his ee.

     'O wha is this has done this deed,
         This ill deed done to me,
     To send me out this time o'the year,
         To sail upon the sea?

     'Mak haste, mak haste, my mirry men all,
         Our guid ship sails the morn.'
     'O say na sae, my master dear,
         For I fear a deadly storm.'

     'Late, late yestre'en I saw the new moon
         Wi'the old moon in his arm,
     And I fear, I fear, my dear master,
         That we will come to harm.'

     O our Scots nobles were richt laith
         To weet their cork-heeled shoon,
     But lang or a' the play were played
         Their hats they swam aboon.

     O lang, lang may their ladies sit,
         Wi'their fans into their hand,
     Or ere they see Sir Patrick Spens
         Come sailing to the land.

     O lang, lang may the ladies stand
         Wi'their gold kems in their hair,
     Waiting for their ain dear lords,
         For they'll never see them mair.

     Half o'er, half o'er to Aberdour
         It's fifty fathoms deep,
     And there lies guid Sir Patrick Spens
    Wi'the Scots lords at his feet.

       “Sir Patrick Spens” is an epic story of a sailor who is ordered by his king to sail across the sea during a storm. This poem is a ballad, and is divided into a series of quatrains. Within the quatrains there is a line of iambic tetrameter, followed by a line of iambic trimeter, another line of iambic tetrameter, and completed with a line of iambic trimeter. This is the standard format for a ballad. In general there is no dramatic shift in the format of the poem, although there is a dramatic turning point near the end of the poem, when the speaker tells the audience that the sailors’ hats “swam aboon,” meaning that they were floating above the sunken ship. The rest of the poem seems like a lamentation, fitting in with the mournful tone of the rest of the poem.

       The reason that this poem is formatted as a ballad is because of its heroic nature. There is something about a crew loyally following their captain into certain death that evokes a sense of pride, one that can be admired by those who fulfil their duty without question. The meter of this poem moves it along at an almost upbeat pace. It is clear that this was meant to be sung, and indeed ballads were often sung by bards with musical accompaniment. Overall, the poem leaves you with a feeling of wistful sadness which contradicts the upbeat flow of the poem.

"She Dwelt among the Untrodden Ways" by William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth was an English poet who lived from 1770 to 1850. A notable experience in his younger life was the death of his mother at age 8, an experience that arguably affected some of his later works. One might even see a correlation between the death and the poem below, as you will see.

     She dwelt among the untrodden ways

               Beside the springs of Dove,

     A Maid whom there were none to praise

              And very few to love:

     A violet by a mossy stone

              Half hidden from the eye!

     —Fair as a star, when only one

              Is shining in the sky.     

     She lived unknown, and few could know

              When Lucy ceased to be;

     But she is in her grave, and, oh,

              The difference to me!  

     The speaker in this poem, not necessarily Wordsworth, uses his tone and style to show his feelings for the deceased woman, Lucy. He shows sincere grief along with admiration of her simple yet beautiful existence. It is clear that the narrator misses Lucy, although it is unclear what kind of relationship he had with her. With knowledge of the author the reader might infer that this is a poem about Wordsworth's mother, who died when he was eight. However, one cannot infer that the speaker is the same person or has the same ideals as the author. While we cannot assume anything about Wordsworth, we can assume some things about the speaker, namely that he misses Lucy and that he thinks very highly of her. Using the metaphor of a small flower he characterizes her as a hidden treasure, something he regrets that more people didn’t appreciate while she was alive. He goes on to say that nobody really knows when she died, further removing her from society. After more careful analysis we get the idea that the narrator himself does not know Lucy personally, but that she is a sort of figure of influence on him. Because she passed away, he is affected greatly, although she did not directly relate to his life. Here we see a story that mirrors Wordsworth and his mother, where the same feelings are being portrayed. Although it is unfair to assume this from the beginning, it becomes clear that his mother did have some influence on this poem.

"The Aim Was Song" by Robert Frost

Robert Frost was a poet who lived between the years of 1874 to 1963. He sold his first poem, "My Butterfly. An elegy," in 1894 for $15. He has won four Pulitzer Prizes for his works. He wrote "The Aim Was Song" in 1923, at which time he was living in New Hampshire.

      The Aim Was Song

      Before man came to blow it right
        The wind once blew itself untaught,
      And did its loudest day and night
        In any rough place where it caught.

      Man came to tell it what was wrong:
        It hadn't found the place to blow;
      It blew too hard - the aim was song.
        And listen - how it ought to go!

      He took a little in his mouth,
        And held it long enough for north
      To be converted into south,
        And then by measure blew it forth.

      By measure. It was word and note,
        The wind the wind had meant to be -
      A little through the lips and throat.
        The aim was song - the wind could see.

         Frost beautifully blends matter and form to create an ostensible flow through this poem. He uses a consistent rhyme scheme coupled with constant meter to create a feeling of flowing which he reinforced with the content of the poem. At first glance this poem might seem like a criticism of man's innate habit to conquer and control nature, however the tone of Frost's poem makes it clear that he is celebrating man's ability to compliment the glory of the wild wind and turn it into song. Frost does not claim that man stopped the wind, only changed its direction. The wind, before man’s intervention, was struggling to find “the place to blow,” in that it blew with enthusiasm but without order. This playful characterization of the wind helps the reader understand his view towards the subject. In the last stanza, he says “It was word and note, / The wind the wind had meant to be,” confirming the audience’s belief that Frost approves of man’s correction of the wind.
This poem can also be understood in the context of art in general, where the wind is all that has potential to be created, and the man forming song as the artist. Frost shows the audience that art is always there, it is up to man to form and mold it. Whether it song, poetry, or even the old oil on canvas, art is just the taming of a wild, abstract idea of beauty.