“The Way by Amy Lowell” is a poem that describes a journey through a forest. The poem takes the reader on a vivid and sensory journey through the woods, as the speaker reflects on the beauty and mystery of nature.
The poem begins with a description of the woods themselves, as the speaker notes how they seem to change as the journey progresses:
The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
Here, the speaker sets the tone for the poem, acknowledging the beauty of the forest, but also the need to press on with the journey. As the speaker moves through the woods, she notes the various sights and sounds around her. She describes the rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, and the smell of pine needles.
As the poem continues, the speaker reflects on the nature of the journey itself, noting that it is not simply a physical journey, but a journey of the mind and spirit as well:
The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
Here, the repetition of the final two lines emphasizes the speaker’s sense of determination and purpose, as she continues to press on towards her goal.
Throughout the poem, Lowell uses vivid sensory imagery to bring the journey to life for the reader. The sights, sounds, and smells of the forest are all described in detail, creating a vivid picture of the journey. This imagery helps to convey the speaker’s sense of awe and wonder at the natural world around her.
Overall, “The Way” is a beautiful and evocative poem that captures the sense of mystery and wonder that can be found in nature. Through her use of vivid sensory imagery and repetition, Amy Lowell creates a powerful sense of the journey itself, and the sense of purpose that drives the speaker forward.
The Way by Amy Lowell
Sweeping triumphant across it, it wound between hedges of roses
Whose blossoms were poised above leaves as pond lilies float on the water,
While hidden by bloom in a hawthorn a bird filled the morning with singing.It widened a highway, majestic, stretching ever to distant horizons,
No sound but the wind as it whispered the secrets of earth to the flowers,
And the hum of the yellow bees, honey-laden and dusty with pollen.
And Summer said, “Come, follow onward, with no thought save the longing to wander,
The wind, and the bees, and the flowers, all singing the great song of Nature,
Are minstrels of change and of promise, they herald the joy of the Future.”Later the solitude vanished, confused and distracted the road
The half-realized beauty of quiet, the sacred unconscious communing.
And now he is come to a river, a line of gray, sullen water,
Not blue and splashing, but dark, rolling somberly on to the ocean.
But on the far side is a city whose windows flame gold in the sunset.
It lies fair and shining before him, a gem set betwixt sky and water,
And spanning the river a bridge, frail promise to longing desire,
And he looks at the river and fears, the bridge is so slight, yet he ventures
His life to its fragile keeping, if it fails the waves will engulf him.
O Arches! be strong to uphold him, and bear him across to the city,
The beautiful city whose spires still glow with the fires of sunset!
