Stanzas written in dejection Flashcards
3
‘The waves are dancing fast and bright’
- Quick and straightfoward observations
- Use of personification makes nature seem alive - imbues the scene with livelyness and joy and colour around him
- Sibilance evokes the spray of the sea and gentle hush of those dancing waves
‘Around its unexpanded buds - like many a voice of one delight, the winds, the birds, the ocean floods’
- Suggests their unrealised potential, an image of hope and anticipation
- Total harmony, nature’s linliness manifests in different ways - here like a song
3
‘The City’s voice itself, is soft like Solitude’s’
- Hexameter
- Speaker’s solitutde is growing quiet
- Hears thrum of city life in the growing distance - breaks rhyme - the sounds of nature and human society seem harmonious, beyond human reach
‘Deep’s untrampled floor’
- Imagining what exists beyond
- Highlights speaker’s stillness
‘Measured motion, how sweet! did any heart now share in my emotion’
- Gentle vibration of sea sounds
- Iamabic hexameter - speaker’s lament on solitude stands out from this beauty - the beauty would be comforting if he wasn’t alone
- Unstressed best dangling at the end - impression of him losing steam
3
‘Nor that content surpassing wealth the sage in meditation found […] glory crowned’
- Polysyndeton emphasises what he doesn’t have
- Allusions to the ‘Meditations’ of Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius, who wrote things like ‘health’, ‘wealth’ and ‘fame’ are in not one’s power to control - all one can do is live by one’s principle
- ‘Crowned’ - metaphor implies living life according to above gives a king of power and authority which comes from within and cannot be taken away - HE DOES NOT HAVE THIS
2
‘Till death like sleep might sleep on me’
‘Breathe o’er my dying brain its last monotomy’
- Makes death seem like a break
- Endless, repetitive lulling motions gently to death - with speaker’s body will be cold and lifeless, sea will remain warm and sea will be ever lasting
2
‘Which my lost heart […] insults with this ultimately moan’
- Such beauty ought to be delighted in, not answered by a sad lonely man
- Shelley had recently lost a young daughter when he wrote this poem, hence the intensity of the grief - autobiographical
Context
“Stanzas Written in Dejection, Near Naples,” by the English Romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley, is about isolation, alienation, and the vast, enduring beauty of the natural world. The poem depicts a lovely day by the Italian seaside that the speaker, despairing and alone, is too disheartened to appreciate. In fact, nature’s loveliness seems only to highlight the depth of the speaker’s lonely suffering, which he views as a kind of insult toward’s nature’s splendor. Eventually, however, the speaker does seem to feel somewhat consoled and soothed by his surroundings, suggesting nature’s power to put human troubles in perspective. Shelley wrote this poem in December 1818, after a string of personal losses, including the death of his daughter Clara. It was published posthumously in 1824.
Isolation, despair, and the consolations of nature
- Sitting at the Italian seaside, the speaker of “Stanzas Written in Dejection, Near Naples” feels desperately sad and alone. The speaker sees the beauty and serenity of nature everywhere he looks, yet readers get the sense that nature’s lovely harmony only makes the speaker more aware of his own isolation and suffering. Despite his utter “dejection,” however, by the poem’s end the speaker does seem to find some consolation in the peaceful, lasting beauty of the landscape. The poem ultimately suggests that nature can offer both comfort and perspective: the natural world helps the speaker realize that his own sufferings are only temporary, while the beauty and serenity of nature are everlasting.
- Gradually, however, the landscape also makes the speaker’s heartache a little easier to bear. Despite his profound sorrow and self-pity, the speaker notes that his “despair” feels more “mild” as he sits by the sea watching “the waves upon the shore.” Natural beauty, the poem suggests, has the power to soften or dull even the most stubborn pain. The speaker even starts to feel as if “lying down” and “dying” beside the ocean wouldn’t be so bad—as long as he could feel “the warm air” of “the sea” against his cheek as life slipped away. (Of course, an alternative reading works here too: the speaker’s despair becomes so unbearable that he’d like to stop living altogether; either way, the image is one of peace, rest, and comfort.)
- This talk of death makes the speaker reflect that nature’s beauty isn’t just consoling and distracting: it’s also reassuringly permanent. The lovely rhythm of the day around the speaker reminds him that while people’s lives are imperfect and short, the world’s beauty is a deathless source of “joy.” When imagining his own death, the speaker reflects that he may or may not be “mourn[ed].” Nature, on the other hand, “dies” as beautifully as it lives, leaving only more delight behind it. When this particularly lovely day “dies” at sunset, its memory will “linger” on, creating more “joy” as people recall its beauty. Even nature’s endings, these lines suggest, have an enduring loveliness of their own.
- The idea that nature’s beauty persists forever seems to help the speaker to see beyond his own misery, even if only temporarily. The speaker might die unlamented and alone—but then he’ll be dead, and his pain will be over. Nature, meanwhile, will go on and on, providing eternal comfort and joy. In some sense, then, natural beauty always gets the last word: human sorrows and failings are impermanent, but nature endures.
The Sun is warm, the sky is clear,
The waves are dancing fast and bright,
Blue isles and snowy mountains wear
The purple noon’s transparent might,
The breath of the moist earth is light,
Around its unexpanded buds;
- Note how the parallelism (bolded above) and asyndeton (or lack of conjunctions) immediately make the speaker’s observations feel quick and straightforward. The metaphor of dancing waves, meanwhile, imbues the scene with liveliness and joy.
- The next few lines are filled with more colorful imagery as the speaker describes “[b]lue isles,” snow-capped mountains, and the “purple” light of midday. The speaker’s use of personification also creates the sense that nature is truly alive all around him. The little islands and “mountains” aren’t just tinted “purple”—they’re “wear[ing]” the day’s vibrant colors like clothes; the speaker calls the moist sea air the earth’s own “breath,” which is “light” as it surrounds flower buds that have yet to bloom. That those buds are “unexpanded” further suggests their unrealized potential; it’s an image of hope and anticipation. And the sibilance of this passage (as in “dancing fast,” “its unexpanded buds”) subtly evokes the spray of the sea and the gentle hush of those dancing waves.
- The poem’s title doesn’t just tell readers where things take place; it also tells readers that the speaker is feeling dejected, deeply sad, and alone. As such, while the speaker quickly, tenderly catalogs the beauty around him, readers might get the sense that he’s trying to distract himself from his own pain and suffering.
Like many a voice of one delight,
The winds, the birds, the Ocean-floods;
The City’s voice itself is soft, like Solitude’s.
- The day isn’t simply beautiful, the speaker continues, but also in total harmony: everything from “the wind” and “the birds” to “the Ocean-floods” (that is, when the sea temporarily pools onto the land) is “Like many a voice of one delight.” This simile again personifies nature, making the world itself feel alive and present. Nature’s loveliness manifests in lots of different ways, but all these different elements come together like voices singing a single delightful song.
- The speaker also personifies the “City” of Naples itself, saying that its “voice is “soft, like Solitude’s.” This simile suggests that the speaker hears the thrum of city life off in the distance, yet this only reminds him of his own loneliness and isolation. Were he nearer to Naples, perhaps the loud sounds of the city would distract him from his troubles. But he’s far enough away that he can hear only the faint echo of the city’s “voice,” the sound of which just reminds him of how alone he is. The sounds of both nature and human society are harmonious, interwoven into a single song of which the speaker isn’t part.
I see the Deep’s untrampled floor
With green and purple seaweeds strown;
I see the waves upon the shore
Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrown;
I sit upon the sands alone;
- The speaker turns his attention back to the ocean, saying he can see all the way down to its “untrampled floor”—that is, to the bottom of the sea. Of course, the speaker can’t literally see this far down! Instead, he seems to be imagining what exists beneath all those dancing waves: an untouched world filled with colorful “seaweeds.” That this place is “untrampled” implies that it’s beyond human reach and thus distances the speaker from the ocean’s beauty.
- He then describes the way waves wash upon the shoreline, the water seeming to dissolve much like the “light” of “star-showers” (meteor showers) is “thrown” across the sky and burns out into the darkness. The imagery seems once again to highlight the speaker’s stillness as he “sits upon the sands alone.” Note how the “waves” and the “star[s]” and even the “sands” are all plural entities, things made up of lots of different parts coming together in harmony; by contrast, the speaker is totally on his own.
Alas! I have nor hope nor health,
Nor peace within nor calm around,
Nor that content surpassing wealth
The sage in meditation found,
And walked with inward glory crowned;
- The speaker opens the next stanza with a dramatic “Alas!”—an expression of utter resignation. He longs for someone to “share in [his] emotion,” yet he believes that simply isn’t in the cards for him. In fact, he says here that he’s been dealt an unlucky hand in life in general.
- Alliteration, too, adds emphasis to what the speaker lacks, with the /h/ sounds in “hope” and “health” and the sharp /c/ sounds of “calm” and “content.” The speaker says he doesn’t have the kind of “content” (that is, contentment or happiness) that’s even better than wealth, the kind of inner enlightenment that wise men discover through “meditation.”
- It’s possible that the speaker is talking about sages and meditation in general here. It’s also possible that he’s making a subtle allusion to the Meditations of Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius, who wrote that things like “health,” “wealth,” and “fame” are not within one’s power to control; all one can do is live by one’s principles. This, the speaker suggests, is what allows someone to go around as if “crowned” with an “inward glory.” The metaphor of a “crown[]” implies that living life according to one’s principles gives one a kind of power and authority, which comes from within and therefore cannot be taken away.
Nor fame nor power nor love nor leisure—
Others I see whom these surround,
Smiling they live and call life pleasure:
To me that cup has been dealt in another measure.
- The speaker continues to use polyptoton while listing the things he does not have, all those “nor”s piling up in a way that suggests the depth of the speaker’s misfortune:
- Lacking the simple contentment of the sages, the speaker is bothered by the fact that he has none of the material pleasures of life. He reaches a kind of emotional climax with this line, breaking off with an em dash as if there’s simply no point in going on.
- The speaker then alludes to the biblical story of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. Knowing he must soon die for the sins of humankind, Jesus had a moment of doubt and uncertainty, asking God to “take this cup of suffering away.” Like Jesus, the speaker feels he has been given too great a burden to bear—that his “cut has been dealt in another measure.”
Till Death like Sleep might steal on me,
And I might feel in the warm air
My cheek grow cold, and hear the Sea
Breathe o’er my dying brain its last monotony.
- Lying on the sand “like a tired child,” having wept “away” his cares, the speaker next envisions “Death” coming upon him “like Sleep”—gently, imperceptibly. The simile treats death not as something frightening but rather as a break, a respite from the speaker’s suffering.
- The speaker imagines being able to “feel” his “cheek grow[ing] cold” against “the warm air” of the sea. The sea would be a comforting presence in the speaker’s final moments, its endless, repetitive motions lulling the speaker gently into death.
- The poem once again personifies the ocean in these lines, referring to its motions and sounds as the sea breathing. While the speaker’s body grows cold and lifeless, the sea air will remain “warm” and the sea itself will continue on with its “monotony”—changeless, ever-lasting. The juxtaposition between the speaker and the sea here might suggest that while the speaker’s troubles are finite, the beauty and rhythms of nature carry on indefinitely.
- Perhaps, then, the speaker is feeling somewhat soothed not only by the consistent rhythm of waves lapping against the shore, but also by the realization that life doesn’t begin and end with human beings. There is something more eternal out there than the speaker’s own pleasures and sorrows.
Unlike this day, which, when the sun
Shall on its stainless glory set,
Will linger though enjoyed, like joy in Memory yet.
- The speaker continues to compare his own (imagined) death to this perfect day by the beach coming to an end. Where his death will only result in “lament” and “regret” as people feel sorrow or pity for him, the day’s joy will “linger” on in people’s memories. Thoughts of the day will continue to inspire joy even after “the sun” has “on its stainless glory set.”
- By concluding with this idea that nature’s beauty will “linger” on long after the speaker and his worldly troubles have been forgotten, the poem suggests that the speaker finds at least some consolation in the natural world around him. While he’ll one day die, such death means he will no longer be filled with suffering and sorrow. Meanwhile, the natural world will carry on, beautiful as ever.
- While it isn’t necessary to read the poem autobiographically, the last line does seem to take on a little extra resonance when considering the poem’s context. Shelley had recently lost a young daughter when he wrote this poem, which almost certainly reflects the intensity of his grief. The final line might suggest that his daughter’s memory remains, allowing the speaker to find enjoyment in her despite her death.
The Sea
- In this poem, the sea symbolizes the constancy, vibrancy, and everlasting beauty of nature.
- The sea is at first an active, lively presence in the poem: its waves dance, light bounces off its surface like “lightning,” and its depths are filled with colorful plants far beyond humanity’s reach. These descriptions speak to the joy and loveliness of the natural world that surrounds the speaker, and they also present the natural world as something vividly alive.
- Yet while at first the speaker is struck by the sea’s “fast and bright” beauty and its “voice of […] delight,” he’s eventually comforted by just how “mild” (or calm and gentle) its waters are, and the way the sounds of the ocean seem to “breathe” over him with “monotony”—steadily, without changing. The sea isn’t striking only for its vivacity, then, but also for its constancy: the way that the waves continually move in and out, in and out, day after day. The steadfast, rhythmic movement of the water seems to assure the speaker that even as his own heart, riddled with anguish, will “too soon grow old” and die, the beauty that surrounds him will “linger” on—even if only in the memories of those who’ve witnessed it.
Form
- What’s important to note here is that such stanzas lend the poem a sense of structure and consistency that subtly mimics the gentle constancy of the natural world. Spenserian stanzas also feature a final line that’s longer than the rest. Here, the final lines in each stanza often focus on the speaker’s emotions as they jut out into the blank space of the page, in turn subtly highlighting the speaker’s alienation from his surroundings.
- Each stanza has nine lines. Based on their rhyme scheme and meter, these are more specifically a riff on something known as Spenserian stanzas (a form popularized by the 16th-century poet Edmund Spenser in his epic “The Faerie Queen”).
- Finally, Shelley links his poem to English literary tradition—elevating the language and, in turn, elevating the despair described in the poem itself.
Meter
- The first eight lines of a Spenserian stanza are written in iambic pentameter (meaning they contain five iambs, feet with an unstressed-stressed syllable pattern, for 10 syllables total). The ninth line is then written in iambic hexameter (six iambs per line, for 12 syllables total). This longer final line is known as an “alexandrine.”
- Shelley, however, adds his own twist here. Instead of pentameter, he uses tetrameter—meaning he uses just four iambs per line. For example, look at lines 1-2:
The Sun | is warm, | the sky | is clear,
The waves | are danc- | ing fast | and bright,
- These lines are in perfect iambic tetrameter; emphasis falls on every second syllable, giving the poem a soothing, consistent rhythm that might evoke the gentle sound of waves washing ashore.
Rhyme Scheme
- For the most part, these end rhymes are exact (“bright”/”might”/”light”), but occasionally the poet uses a slant rhyme instead (such as “clear” and “wear” in lines 1 and 3). Regardless, the overall effect of such a tightly constructed rhyme scheme is that the poem feels very controlled and musical. The musicality of the poem itself mirrors the beauty of the natural landscape it describes.
- It’s also worth noting that, for Romantic writers like Shelley, the poet’s job wasn’t just to encounter intense emotions and muse on the beauty of nature; it was to turn these encounters and musings into capital “A” Art. While Shelley was undoubtedly writing from a place of genuine sorrow and heartache, the poem’s deft rhyme patterning might suggest that he was never far from thinking about his legacy as a poet!
Speaker
Shelley wrote this poem following a string of personal tragedies, including the death of his baby daughter, estrangement from his wife, and poor critical reception of his work. The speaker here is thus almost certainly meant to represent Shelley himself, whose life the poem alludes to throughout. For example, in addition to his familial woes, Shelley was often in debt, he had chronic lung issues, and his poetry was unpopular in his lifetime (hence the reference to lacking things like fame, power, love, and leisure).
Setting
- The title tells readers where the poem takes place: near the Italian coastal city of Naples. The speaker is more specifically by the seaside on a warm, sunny day, which the speaker describes in great detail: the waves are “fast and bright,” there are little islands and snow-capped mountains in the distance, and the moist sea air seems to wraps itself around the still unopened “buds” of trees—suggesting that it’s early spring.
- Yet the speaker feels distanced from all this natural beauty and serenity. He can “see” natural wonders all around him, yet he remains “upon the sands alone”—sitting by himself without anyone to share the day with. The vibrancy and vivacity of this setting contrast with the speaker’s immense sorrow, suggesting how he feels cut off from both humanity and the natural world while “in dejection.”
Literary context
- Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822) was a major figure in the artistic and literary movement known as Romanticism. This movement emerged in response to the Enlightenment’s emphasis on reason and rationality (itself brought about by advances in scientific inquiry, technology, and industry in the 1700s). Romantics, by contrast, concerned themselves with rebellion against authority; connection with nature; the power of the imagination; and the notion of the lone, heroic, and misunderstood artist.
- Like other Romantic poets of his generation, including his close friend Lord Byron, Shelley was greatly indebted to the work of early Romantic poet William Wordsworth. As time went on, however, an increasingly conservative Wordsworth fell out of favor with those he had initially inspired. A freethinker, atheist, and political radical, Shelley believed it wasn’t enough to write great poems; one had to actively participate in making the world a more equitable place.
- Shelley wrote this poem in 1818 while in Italy. This was a profoundly difficult time in Shelley’s life: he’d recently lost his baby daughter, Clara, and in the aftermath grown estranged from his wife and fellow writer Mary Shelley. Shelley also struggled with his own poetic reception: despite his posthumous fame, Shelley wasn’t a popular or well-reviewed poet during his own lifetime. These issues undoubtedly inform the pain behind “Stanzas Written in Dejection.”
Historical context
- Percy Shelley’s short life was marked by tragedy. In 1814, he fell in love with Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin (daughter of feminist author Mary Wollstonecraft, and the eventual writer of Frankenstein), and the couple eloped—despite the fact that Shelley was already married! This, along with Shelley’s radical political sensibilities, resulted in the couple’s being more or less ostracized in England.
- In September of 1816, Mary’s youngest sister, Fanny, died by suicide; her death impacted Shelley in part because he believed she had been in love with him. Just three months later, Shelley’s first wife, Harriet, also died by suicide. Shelley attempted to get custody of his and Harriet’s children but was denied due to his abandonment of the family and subsequent affair (and likely also because of his atheist beliefs). Mary became pregnant with the couple’s first child around this time, but the baby died after being born prematurely. The couple was also in near-constant debt due to Shelley’s indiscriminate spending habits. Mary gave birth to a second child, Clara, in 1817.
- In March of 1818, while traveling in Italy, the 17-month-old Clara fell ill and died. Mary fell into a severe depression after this event and grew distant from Shelley, whom she held partly responsible for their daughter’s death. Shelley wrote “Stanzas Written in Dejection” soon after.