Spring
By Louise Imogen Guiney
With a difference —Hamlet.Again the bloom, the northward flight,
The fount freed at its silver height,
And down the deep woods to the lowest,
The fragrant shadows scarred with light.
O inescapable joy of spring!
For thee the world shall leap and sing;
But by her darkened door thou goest
Forever as a spectral thing.
About the Poem
Louise Imogen Guiney’s poem “Spring” is a lyrical meditation on the renewal and beauty of nature as the season changes. Guiney, a late 19th and early 20th-century poet, was known for her refined, often pastoral poetry that blended classical influences with a keen appreciation for the natural world. The poem captures the essence of spring as a time of rebirth, hope, and rejuvenation. It highlights the transition from winter’s barrenness to the lush vibrancy of spring, reflecting nature’s cyclical pattern.
Guiney employs rich and delicate imagery, describing blossoming flowers, fresh greenery, and the return of birdsong. She uses sensory details to create a vivid picture of the changing landscape, engaging the reader’s sight, smell, and hearing. The tone is celebratory and reverent, appreciating nature’s beauty and its connection to the human spirit. There is a sense of awe in how nature renews itself effortlessly, contrasting with human struggles.
Guiney’s style often incorporates classical references, and “Spring” may allude to mythology or poetic traditions that celebrate the season’s return. She employs a lyrical structure reminiscent of Romantic and Victorian poetry. Beyond a simple depiction of nature, the poem may suggest deeper themes of hope, resurrection, and the passage of time. Spring symbolizes a fresh start, not just for nature but metaphorically for the human soul.
Guiney’s “Spring” exemplifies her ability to blend refined, classical poetics with an intimate, heartfelt appreciation for nature’s beauty. The poem resonates with the universal joy of witnessing the world awaken after winter’s dormancy.
About the Poet
Louise Imogen Guiney (1861–1920) was an American poet, essayist, and critic known for her lyrical and refined verse, often inspired by classical and religious themes. Born in Roxbury, Massachusetts, she was the daughter of an Irish-American Civil War general, which instilled in her a deep appreciation for history and heroism. Guiney was educated at the Convent of the Sacred Heart in Providence, Rhode Island, where she developed a love for literature. Throughout her life, she was deeply involved in Boston’s literary circles, forging friendships with other poets and writers, including Alice Brown and Thomas Wentworth Higginson. Her poetry was influenced by English metaphysical and Romantic poets, reflecting a stylistic elegance and devotion to themes of faith, chivalry, and nature.
In the 1890s, Guiney moved to England, where she pursued her passion for medieval and Renaissance literature, dedicating herself to literary research rather than poetry. She worked as a librarian and scholar, focusing on editing and promoting lesser-known poets of the past. Despite her literary contributions, she struggled with financial difficulties and poor health, which limited her output in later years. She passed away in Chipping Campden, England, in 1920, leaving behind a legacy of poetry and essays that reflected her erudition, spiritual depth, and love for the poetic traditions of the past. Her work, though not widely known today, remains an important part of late 19th-century American literature.
2 comments:
The Spring of Charles of Orléans 1391-1465 , grandson of King Charles V
Time has cast off its cloak
Of wind, cold, and rain,
And has dressed itself in embroidery,
Of shining, clear, and beautiful sun.
There is no beast or bird
That does not sing or cry in its jargon:
Time has cast off its cloak
Of wind, cold, and rain.
River, fountain, and stream
Wear in pretty livery
Drops of silver, of goldsmithery;
Everyone dresses again:
Time has cast off its cloak.
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Le printemps de Charles d’Orléans 1391-1465
Le temps a laissé son manteau
De vent, de froidure et de pluie,
Et s'est vêtu de broderie,
De soleil luisant, clair et beau.
Il n'y a bête ni oiseau
Qu'en son jargon ne chante ou crie :
Le temps a laissé son manteau
De vent, de froidure et de pluie.
Rivière, fontaine et ruisseau
Portent en livrée jolie
Gouttes d'argent, d'orfèvrerie;
Chacun s'habille de nouveau:
Le temps a laissé son manteau.
Thank you for sharing this, Spring is my favorite time of the year, new beginning and new life all around us.
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