by Whitman · Cluster: Grief and Loss · Elegy · Clothing and Costume
Abstract
Allegory of Ireland as a grieving ancient mother over an empty grave, consoled that her dead son lives risen in a new country; grief, resurrection, exile, and rebirth in America.
Connections
Archetypes: Great Mother Motifs: Grave Themes & Concepts: Grief and Loss, Exile, Grace and Redemption, Regeneration Forms & Genres: Allegory Historical References: Irish Question
Testo integrale / Full text
Cluster: AUTUMN RIVULETS
Far hence amid an isle of wondrous beauty, Crouching over a grave an ancient sorrowful mother, Once a queen, now lean and tatter’d seated on the ground, Her old white hair drooping dishevel’d round her shoulders, At her feet fallen an unused royal harp, Long silent, she too long silent, mourning her shrouded hope and heir, Of all the earth her heart most full of sorrow because most full of love.
Yet a word ancient mother, You need crouch there no longer on the cold ground with forehead between your knees, O you need not sit there veil’d in your old white hair so dishevel’d, For know you the one you mourn is not in that grave, It was an illusion, the son you love was not really dead, The Lord is not dead, he is risen again young and strong in another country, Even while you wept there by your fallen harp by the grave, What you wept for was translated, pass’d from the grave, The winds favor’d and the sea sail’d it, And now with rosy and new blood, Moves to-day in a new country.