The Complete Poetical Works of James Russell Lowell — Inside the Classic

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Authors: Lowell, James Russell, 1819-1891 Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2004 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: American poetry Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 285,905

Reading time 1244 min

Text sections 26

Before opening The Complete Poetical Works of James Russell Lowell — Inside the Classic, the edition data offers a quick orientation: 285,905 words, 20 hr 44 min estimated reading time, and 26 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 31.5 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “American poetry,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #13310

This edition collects James Russell Lowell's complete poems, including the satirical Biglow Papers with their invented Yankee dialect and scholarly footnotes, alongside earlier lyrics and sonnets. The catalog subject 'American poetry' fits, but the excerpts reveal a work blending verse with prose commentary, political critique, and mock-learned apparatus.

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was writ so passing bright. And yet, alas! she knew not why. Her voice would falter in its song, And tears would slide from out her eye, Silent, as they were doing wrong. Oh stern word--Nevermore!

The tongue that scarce had learned to claim An entrance to a mother's heart By that dear talisman, a mother's name, Sleeps all forgetful of its art! I loved to see the infant soul 30 (How mighty in the weakness Of its untutored meekness!) Peep timidly from out its nest, His lips, the while, Fluttering with half-fledged words, Or hushing to a smile That more than words expressed, When his glad mother on him stole And snatched him to her breast! Oh, thoughts were brooding in those eyes, 40 That would have soared like strong-winged birds Far, far into the skies, Gladding the earth with song, And gushing harmonies, Had he but tarried with us long! Oh stern word--Nevermore!

How peacefully they rest, Crossfolded there Upon his little breast, Those small, white hands that ne'er were still before, 50 But ever sported with his mother's hair, Or the plain cross that on her breast she wore! Her heart no more will beat To feel the touch of that soft palm, That ever seemed a new surprise Sending glad thoughts up to her eyes To bless him with their holy calm,-- Sweet thoughts! they made her eyes as sweet. How quiet are the hands That wove those pleasant bands! But that they do not rise and sink 61 With his calm breathing, I should think That he were dropped asleep. Alas! too deep, too deep Is this his slumber! Time scarce can number The years ere he shall wake again. Oh, may we see his eyelids open then! Oh stern word--Nevermore!

As the airy gossamere, 70 Floating in the sunlight clear, Where'er it toucheth clingeth tightly, Bound glossy leal or stump unsightly, So from his spirit wandered out Tendrils spreading all about, Knitting all things to its thrall With a perfect love of all: Oh stern word--Nevermore!

He did but float a little way Adown the stream of time, 80 With dreamy eyes watching the ripples play, Or hearkening their fairy chime; His slender sail Ne'er felt the gale; He did but float a little way, And, putting to the shore While yet 't was early day, Went calmly on his way, To dwell with us no more! No jarring did he feel, 90 No grating on his shallop's keel; A strip of silver sand Mingled the waters with the land Where he was seen no more: Oh stern word--Nevermore!

Full short his journey was; no dust Of earth unto his sandals clave; The weary weight that old men must, He bore not to the grave. He seemed a cherub who had lost his way 100 And wandered hither, so his stay With us was short, and 't was most meet That he should be no delver in earth's clod, Nor need to pause and cleanse his feet To stand before his God: Oh blest word--Evermore!

The sea is lonely, the sea is dreary, The sea is restless and uneasy; Thou seekest quiet, thou art weary, Wandering thou knowest not whither;-- Our little isle is green and breezy, Come and rest thee! Oh come hither, Come to this peaceful home of ours, Where evermore The low west-wind creeps panting up the shore 9 To be at rest among the flowers; Full of rest, the green moss lifts, As the dark waves of the sea Draw in and out of rocky rifts, Calling solemnly to thee With voices deep and hollow,-- 'To the shore Follow! Oh, follow! To be at rest forevermore! Forevermore!'

Look how the gray old Ocean 20 From the depth of his heart rejoices, Heaving with a gentle motion, When he hears our restful voices; List how he sings in an undertone, Chiming with our melody; And all sweet sounds of earth and air Melt into one low voice alone, That murmurs over the weary sea, And seems to sing from everywhere,-- 'Here mayst thou harbor peacefully, 30 Here mayst thou rest from the aching oar; Turn thy curved prow ashore, And in our green isle rest forevermore! Forevermore!' And Echo half wakes in the wooded hill, And, to her heart so calm and deep, Murmurs over in her sleep, Doubtfully pausing and murmuring still, 'Evermore!' Thus, on Life's weary sea, 40 Heareth the marinere Voices sweet, from far and near, Ever singing low and clear, Ever singing longingly.

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The excerpts from this edition of Lowell's complete poems show a work that is far from a straightforward lyric collection. The sample includes the Biglow Papers, where a fictional editor, Homer Wilbur, supplies Latin quotations, mock-scholarly footnotes, and prose letters that comment on the Civil War-era politics. The verse itself is written in a thick Yankee dialect, as in the line 'I hed it on my min' las' time,' which contrasts sharply with the formal sonnets and earlier poems listed in the table of contents.

This juxtaposition of high and low styles—the editor's pedantic prose alongside the rustic dialect verse—suggests that Lowell's project is as much about social and political satire as it is about poetry. The catalog subject 'American poetry' is accurate but understates the work's hybrid form and its engagement with contemporary issues like slavery and national identity.

The Editor's Voice and the Dialect Speaker

The excerpts present two distinct voices. The first is that of Homer Wilbur, the fictional editor, who writes in a learned, Latinate prose: 'I conceive that he would hardly have made a like exception in favour of the particular trade in question.' He peppers his commentary with classical allusions and quotations, such as 'Fas est et ab hoste doceri.' The second voice is that of the dialect speaker, Mr. Sawin, whose verse uses phonetic spelling and colloquial grammar: 'I hed it on my min' las' time.' This contrast is not merely stylistic; it dramatizes a tension between elite learning and folk wisdom, between the North's moralizing and the South's self-justification. The editor's footnotes and asides—like the remark about 'cuticular aristocracy'—further blur the line between poem and essay, making the work a layered commentary on American society.

Political Satire Embedded in Verse

The Biglow Papers excerpts are explicitly political. The editor criticizes Southern aristocracy, calling it 'cuticular' and linking it to 'carrying of bowie-knives and the chewing of tobacco.' He also targets Northern complacency, warning that 'good-nature' can become 'a positive crime when it leads us to look unresentfully on peculation.' The dialect speaker, meanwhile, adopts a cynical tone about the war, suggesting that many Southerners are 'original Union men' who will switch sides. These passages are not abstract; they reference specific events and figures, such as the 'Proprietary Government' of South Carolina and the 'treason to the best Government that ever existed.' The satire is sharp and topical, using humor and irony to attack both secessionists and passive Northerners.

Structure: A Collection, Not a Single Work

The table of contents reveals that this volume is a comprehensive collection of Lowell's poetry, spanning from early sonnets (e.g., 'To the Spirit of Keats') to longer narrative poems like 'A Legend of Brittany' and 'Prometheus.' The Biglow Papers appear as one component among many, but the excerpts suggest they dominate the sample. The editor's note indicates that this 'Cabinet Edition' includes all poems from the Cambridge edition, with line numbers and indexes added for convenience. The presence of both the formal sonnets and the dialect satire within the same volume highlights Lowell's range—from the Romantic lyricism of 'I cannot think that thou shouldst pass away' to the rough-hewn humor of 'You know up North, though secs an' things air plenty ez you please.' This variety makes the book less a unified statement than a showcase of a poet's evolving voice.

Readers approaching this edition should be prepared for a mix of modes: the early poems are often earnest and conventional, while the Biglow Papers demand attention to historical context and linguistic play. The footnotes and editorial framing are integral to the satire, not optional additions. The catalog subject 'American poetry' is accurate, but the work's true interest lies in how it uses poetry to argue about nationhood, class, and language itself.

I remember sitting with my grandfather’s old Lowell volume, smiling at the mock footnotes in the Biglow Papers — that strange pleasure of a poem arguing with its own margins. It reminded me of flipping through The Works of Lord Byron. Vol. 3 — Text and Context years later, feeling the same amused intimacy, as if the author had left the study door ajar.