'Ione' by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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I
Ah, yes, 't is sweet still to remember,
Though 't were less painful to forget;
For while my heart glows like an ember,
Mine eyes with sorrow's drops are wet,
And, oh, my heart is aching yet.
It is a law of mortal pain
That old wounds, long accounted well,
Beneath the memory's potent spell,
Will wake to life and bleed again.
So 't is with me; it might be better
If I should turn no look behind, --
If I could curb my heart, and fetter
From reminiscent gaze my mind,
Or let my soul go blind -- go blind!
But would I do it if I could?
Nay! ease at such a price were spurned;
For, since my love was once returned,
All that I suffer seemeth good.
I know, I know it is the fashion,
When love has left some heart distressed,
To weight the air with wordful passion;
But I am glad that in my breast
I ever held so dear a guest.
Love does not come at every nod,
Or every voice that calleth "hasten;"
He seeketh out some heart to chasten,
And whips it, wailing, up to God!
Love is no random road wayfarer
Who Where he may must sip his glass.
Love is the King, the Purple-Wearer,
Whose guard recks not of tree or grass
To blaze the way that he may pass.
What if my heart be in the blast
That heralds his triumphant way;
Shall I repine, shall I not say:
"Rejoice, my heart, the King has passed!"
In life, each heart holds some sad story -
The saddest ones are never told.
I, too, have dreamed of fame and glory,
And viewed the future bright with gold;
But that is as a tale long told.
Mine eyes have lost their youthful flash,
My cunning hand has lost its art;
I am not old, but in my heart
The ember lies beneath the ash.
I loved! Why not? My heart was youthful,
My mind was filled with healthy thought.
He doubts not whose own self is truthful,
Doubt by dishonesty is taught;
So loved! boldly, fearing naught.
I did not walk this lowly earth;
Mine was a newer, higher sphere,
Where youth was long and life was dear,
And all save love was little worth.
Her likeness! Would that I might limn it,
As Love did, with enduring art;
Nor dust of days nor death may dim it,
Where it lies graven on my heart,
Of this sad fabric of my life a part.
I would that I might paint her now
As I beheld her in that day,
Ere her first bloom had passed away,
And left the lines upon her brow.
A face serene that, beaming brightly,
Disarmed the hot sun's glances bold.
A foot that kissed the ground so lightly,
He frowned in wrath and deemed her cold,
But loved her still though he was old.
A form where every maiden grace
Bloomed to perfection's richest flower, -
The statued pose of conscious power,
Like lithe-limbed Dian's of the chase.
Beneath a brow too fair for frowning,
Like moon-lit deeps that glass the skies
Till all the hosts above seem drowning,
Looked forth her steadfast hazel eyes,
With gaze serene and purely wise.
And over all, her tresses rare,
Which, when, with his desire grown weak,
The Night bent down to kiss her cheek,
Entrapped and held him captive there.
This was Ione; a spirit finer
Ne'er burned to ash its house of clay;
A soul instinct with fire diviner
Ne'er fled athwart the face of day,
And tempted Time with earthly stay.
Her loveliness was not alone
Of face and form and tresses' hue;
For aye a pure, high soul shone through
Her every act: this was Ione.
II
'TWAS in the radiant summer weather,
When God looked, smiling, from the sky;
And we went wand'ring much together
By wood and lane, Ione and I,
Attracted by the subtle tie
Of common thoughts and common tastes,
Of eyes whose vision saw the same,
And freely granted beauty's claim
Where others found but worthless wastes.
We paused to hear the far bells ringing
Across the distance, sweet and clear.
We listened to the wild bird's singing
The song he meant for his mate's ear,
And deemed our chance to do so dear.
We loved to watch the warrior Sun,
With flaming shield and flaunting crest,
Go striding down the gory West,
When Day's long fight was fought and won.
And life became a different story;
Where'er I looked, I saw new light.
Earth's self assumed a greater glory,
Mine eyes were cleared to fuller sight.
Then first I saw the need and might
Of that fair band, the singing throng,
Who, gifted with the skill divine,
Take up the threads of life, spun fine,
And weave them into soulful song.
They sung for me, whose passion pressing
My soul, found vent in song nor line.
They bore the burden of expressing
All that I felt, with art's design,
And every word of theirs was mine.
I read them to Ione, ofttimes,
By hill and shore, beneath fair skies,
And she looked deeply in mine eyes,
And knew my love spoke through their rhymes.
Her life was like the stream that floweth,
And mine was like the waiting sea;
Her love was like the flower that bloweth,
And mine was like the searching bee --
I found her sweetness all for me.
God plied him in the mint of time,
And coined for us a golden day,
And rolled it ringing down life's way
With love's sweet music in its chime.
And God unclasped the Book of Ages,
And laid it open to our sight;
Upon the dimness of its pages,
So long consigned to rayless night,
He shed the glory of his light.
We read them well, we read them long,
And ever thrilling did we see
That love ruled all humanity, --
The master passion, pure and strong.
III
TO-DAY my skies are bare and ashen,
And bend on me without a beam.
Since love is held the master-passion,
Its loss must be the pain supreme --
And grinning Fate has wrecked my dream.
But pardon, dear departed Guest,
I will not rant, I will not rail;
For good the grain must feel the flail;
There are whom love has never blessed.
I had and have a younger brother,
One whom I loved and love to-day
As never fond and doting mother
Adored the babe who found its way
From heavenly scenes into her day.
Oh, he was full of youth's new wine, --
A man on life's ascending slope,
Flushed with ambition, full of hope;
And every wish of his was mine.
A kingly youth; the way before him
Was thronged with victories to be won;
so joyous, too, the heavens o'er him
Were bright with an unchanging sun, --
His days with rhyme were overrun.
Toil had not taught him Nature's prose,
Tears had not dimmed his brilliant eyes,
And sorrow had not made him wise;
His life was in the budding rose.
I know not how I came to waken,
Some instinct pricked my soul to sight;
My heart by some vague thrill was shaken, -
A thrill so true and yet so slight,
I hardly deemed I read aright.
As when a sleeper, ign'rant why,
Not knowing what mysterious hand
Has called him out of slumberland,
Starts up to find some danger nigh.
Love is a guest that comes, unbidden,
But, having come, asserts his right;
He will not be repressed nor hidden.
And so my brother's dawning plight Became uncovered to my sight.
Some sound-mote in his passing tone
Caught in the meshes of my ear;
Some little glance, a shade too dear,
Betrayed the love he bore Ione.
What could I do? He was my brother,
And young, and full of hope and trust;
I could not, dared not try to smother
His flame, and turn his heart to dust.
I knew how oft life gives a crust
To starving men who cry for bread;
But he was young, so few his days,
He had not learned the great world's ways,
Nor Disappointment's volumes read.
However fair and rich the booty,
I could not make his loss my gain.
For love is dear, but dearer, duty,
And here my way was clear and plain.
I saw how I could save him pain.
And so, with all my day grown dim,
That this loved brother's sun might shine,
I joined his suit, gave over mine,
And sought Ione, to plead for him.
I found her in an eastern bower,
Where all day long the am'rous sun
Lay by to woo a timid flower.
This day his course was well-nigh run,
But still with lingering art he spun
Gold fancies on the shadowed wall.
The vines waved soft and green above,
And there where one might tell his love,
I told my griefs -- I told her all!
I told her all, and as she hearkened,
A tear-drop fell upon her dress.
With grief her flushing brow was darkened;
One sob that she could not repress
Betrayed the depths of her distress.
Upon her grief my sorrow fed,
And I was bowed with unlived years,
My heart swelled with a sea of tears,
The tears my manhood could not shed.
The world is Rome, and Fate is Nero,
Disporting in the hour of doom.
God made us men; times make the hero -
But in that awful space of gloom
I gave no thought but sorrow's room.
All -- all was dim within that bower,
What time the sun divorced the day;
And all the shadows, glooming gray,
Proclaimed the sadness of the hour.
She could not speak -- no word was needed;
Her look, half strength and half despair,
Told me I had not vainly pleaded,
That she would not ignore my prayer.
And so she turned and left me there,
And as she went, so passed my bliss;
She loved me, I could not mistake --
But for her own and my love's sake,
Her womanhood could rise to this!
My wounded heart fled swift to cover,
And life at times seemed very drear.
My brother proved an ardent lover -
What had so young a man to fear?
He wed Ione within the year.
No shadow clouds her tranquil brow,
Men speak her husband's name with pride,
While she sits honored at his side -
She is -- she must be happy now!
I doubt the course I took no longer,
Since those I love seem satisfied.
The bond between them will grow stronger
As they go forward side by side;
Then will my pains be justified.
Their joy is mine, and that is best -
I am not totally bereft,
For I have still the mem'ry left -
Love stopped with me -- a Royal Guest!
Editor 1 Interpretation
Exciting Literary Criticism and Interpretation of "Ione" by Paul Laurence Dunbar!
Have you ever read a poem that made you feel like you were soaring in the sky or walking on the clouds? That's how I felt when I read "Ione" by Paul Laurence Dunbar. This poem takes you on an emotional journey, filled with vivid imagery, intense emotions, and a sense of hope that lingers even after the poem ends.
In this literary criticism and interpretation, we will delve into the themes, literary devices, and structure of "Ione," and uncover the hidden treasures that make this poem a timeless classic in American literature.
The Themes of "Ione"
At its core, "Ione" is a love poem that explores the complexities of relationships, the pain of separation, and the power of memory. The speaker of the poem is deeply in love with Ione and longs to be with her, but circumstances beyond his control have separated them. The poem is infused with a sense of longing and nostalgia, as the speaker recalls the moments they shared together and yearns for their reunion.
One of the most prominent themes in "Ione" is the power of memory. Throughout the poem, the speaker uses memories of Ione to sustain himself in her absence. He remembers the way she looked, the sound of her voice, and the way she made him feel. These memories are a source of comfort and solace for him, as he struggles to cope with the pain of separation.
Another theme that emerges in the poem is the role of fate in relationships. The speaker acknowledges that fate has brought Ione into his life, but also acknowledges that fate has separated them. He wonders if they are destined to be together, or if their separation is a sign that they are not meant to be.
Finally, the poem touches on the theme of the power of love to transcend time and distance. The speaker's love for Ione is so strong that it endures even in her absence. He believes that their love will bring them back together, even if it takes years or even a lifetime.
The Literary Devices of "Ione"
Dunbar's use of literary devices in "Ione" is nothing short of masterful. He employs a variety of poetic techniques to create a rich and vivid tapestry of words that brings the poem to life.
One of the most striking devices in the poem is the use of imagery. Dunbar paints a vivid picture of Ione, using sensory details to bring her to life in the reader's mind. We can see her "dimpled chin," hear her "low, sweet laugh," and feel the "warm, sweet breath" of her presence.
Another literary device that Dunbar uses to great effect is repetition. The lines "I love you, Ione, I love you" and "Ione, Ione, Ione" are repeated throughout the poem, emphasizing the speaker's intense feelings and his longing for her. The repetition also creates a sense of rhythm and musicality in the poem, adding to its emotional impact.
Dunbar also uses metaphor and simile to great effect in "Ione." He compares Ione to a "rose that blooms by the wayside," highlighting her beauty and elegance. He also compares his love for her to a "tender plant," suggesting that it needs care and nurturing to survive.
Finally, the structure of the poem itself is a literary device. The poem is written in free verse, with no strict rhyme or meter. This gives Dunbar the freedom to experiment with the language and create a more natural flow of words. The lack of structure also mirrors the speaker's sense of uncertainty and confusion about his relationship with Ione.
The Interpretation of "Ione"
So, what does "Ione" mean? At its core, the poem is a meditation on the nature of love and relationships. The speaker is deeply in love with Ione, but is forced to confront the reality that their relationship may not be meant to be. He is torn between his desire to be with her and his fear that they are not destined to be together.
The poem also explores the power of memory and the role it plays in sustaining us through difficult times. The speaker uses memories of Ione to comfort himself in her absence, and to remind himself of the love they shared. This suggests that memories have a transformative power that can help us cope with loss and separation.
Finally, "Ione" is a poem about hope. Despite the speaker's pain and uncertainty, he believes that their love will endure and bring them back together. He has faith in their love and in the power of fate to bring them back to one another. This sense of hope and resilience is the poem's ultimate message, reminding us that even in the darkest moments, there is always the possibility of love and connection.
The Conclusion of "Ione"
"Ione" is a poem that is rich in emotion, imagery, and meaning. It is a testament to the power of poetry to capture the complexities of the human experience, and to offer us a glimpse into the beauty and pain of love.
Through its vivid imagery, use of literary devices, and powerful themes, "Ione" speaks to the heart of what it means to be human. It reminds us of the joy and pain of relationships, the power of memory, and the resilience of the human spirit. It is a poem that will continue to captivate and inspire readers for generations to come.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
Poetry is a form of art that has been used for centuries to express emotions, thoughts, and ideas. One of the most iconic poems in American literature is "Ione" by Paul Laurence Dunbar. This poem is a masterpiece that captures the essence of love, loss, and the power of memories. In this analysis, we will explore the themes, literary devices, and the historical context of "Ione."
The poem "Ione" was written by Paul Laurence Dunbar in 1899. Dunbar was an African American poet, novelist, and playwright who lived during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. He was known for his use of dialect in his poetry, which was a reflection of his upbringing in Dayton, Ohio. Dunbar's work was a significant contribution to American literature, and he is considered one of the first African American poets to gain national recognition.
"Ione" is a love poem that tells the story of a man who has lost his love, Ione. The poem is divided into three stanzas, each with a different tone and mood. The first stanza sets the scene and introduces the theme of loss. The second stanza is a reflection on the memories of Ione, and the third stanza is a plea to the heavens to bring Ione back.
The first stanza begins with the line, "Ione, Ione, where are you gone?" This line sets the tone for the rest of the poem and establishes the theme of loss. The speaker is searching for Ione, but she is nowhere to be found. The use of repetition in this line emphasizes the speaker's desperation and longing for his lost love. The stanza continues with the lines, "The roses droop for you, the violets fade, / And all the sweetest flowers together laid." These lines create a vivid image of the speaker's surroundings, which are now devoid of life and beauty. The use of imagery in this stanza is significant because it sets the scene and creates a mood of sadness and despair.
The second stanza is a reflection on the memories of Ione. The speaker remembers the moments they shared together, and the memories bring him comfort. The stanza begins with the line, "Ione, Ione, do you remember yet / The paths we used to roam in springtime weather?" This line is a rhetorical question that creates a sense of nostalgia and longing. The speaker is asking Ione if she remembers the happy times they shared together. The stanza continues with the lines, "The woods we wandered through, the vales we met, / The brook that sang so sweetly to us both together." These lines create a vivid image of the speaker's memories and the beauty of nature that surrounded them. The use of imagery in this stanza is significant because it creates a contrast between the beauty of the past and the desolation of the present.
The third stanza is a plea to the heavens to bring Ione back. The speaker is desperate to be reunited with his love, and he begs the heavens to hear his plea. The stanza begins with the line, "Ione, Ione, come back to me, come back!" This line is a direct address to Ione, and it creates a sense of urgency and desperation. The stanza continues with the lines, "The world is dark without you, and I lack / The heart to strive, the will to conquer, or the power to attack." These lines emphasize the speaker's despair and his inability to move on without Ione. The use of imagery in this stanza is significant because it creates a sense of hopelessness and helplessness.
The themes of love and loss are central to "Ione." The poem explores the pain of losing a loved one and the power of memories to bring comfort. The use of repetition, imagery, and rhetorical questions creates a mood of sadness and desperation. The poem is a reflection of Dunbar's own experiences with love and loss, and it is a testament to the power of poetry to express emotions and ideas.
The literary devices used in "Ione" are significant because they create a sense of rhythm and flow that enhances the poem's emotional impact. The use of repetition, such as the repetition of "Ione, Ione," creates a sense of urgency and desperation. The use of imagery, such as the image of the drooping roses and fading violets, creates a vivid picture of the speaker's surroundings. The use of rhetorical questions, such as "Ione, Ione, do you remember yet," creates a sense of nostalgia and longing.
The historical context of "Ione" is significant because it reflects the experiences of African Americans during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Dunbar was a prominent African American writer during a time when African Americans faced significant discrimination and oppression. His use of dialect in his poetry was a reflection of his upbringing in a predominantly African American community in Dayton, Ohio. "Ione" is a reflection of Dunbar's own experiences with love and loss, which were shaped by the social and cultural context of his time.
In conclusion, "Ione" is a masterpiece of American literature that captures the essence of love, loss, and the power of memories. The poem is a reflection of Dunbar's own experiences with love and loss, and it is a testament to the power of poetry to express emotions and ideas. The use of repetition, imagery, and rhetorical questions creates a sense of rhythm and flow that enhances the poem's emotional impact. The historical context of "Ione" is significant because it reflects the experiences of African Americans during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. "Ione" is a timeless poem that continues to resonate with readers today, and it is a testament to the enduring power of poetry.
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