The Love Letter, by Alicia

In “The World As I See It,” an essay by Albert Einstein, he says: “…one exists for other people—first of all for those upon whose smiles and well-being our own happiness is wholly dependent, and then for the many, unknown to us, to whose destinies we are bound by the ties of sympathy.” Valentine’s Day is a celebration of our ability to give and express love to others because we know that “all you need is love.” There are so many love poems (most of them horrible) to choose from! What do we do if we are in love with someone who doesn’t return the feeling? Look at Ben Johnson’s “Song—To Celia,” a poem that expresses infatuation. In the first stanza, the speaker says “Drink to me.” The meaning of drink here is to give a toast or more likely, to absorb. In other words, “absorb me with your eyes.” Can you imagine a man walking up to you on a first date and confidently saying in a deep voice, “absorb me with your eyes”? But we often find lovers gazing into one another’s eyes for no apparent reason other than to absorb or to be absorbed.
Drink to me, only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I’ll not look for wine.
In other words, your kisses are more important to me than staying hydrated. Infatuation! To paraphrase Johnson, never mind that I may dehydrate, kiss on! Remember that Johnson introduced the theme that kissing could take the place of staying hydrated. Think of the lyrics, “I can’t live if livin’ is without you.” Every day, radio programs are dedicated to playing hundreds of love songs that allude to this theme that to live, we need love more than we need water, food, or even shelter as in, “I want to swim with you in the sea.”
The thirst, that from the soul doth rise,
Doth ask a drink divine:
But might I of Jove’s nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
Idolatry! In Roman mythology Jove is another name for Jupiter, the supreme god. I would not trade Jove’s nectar with yours? The sexual tone presented in these lines come from the use of nectar, which is the drink of the Greek and Roman gods. Whoever this woman is, she has some kind of delicious nectar such that her lover would not trade it for that which is palpable to even the gods. He intimates that her drink is of a divine quality. Is this post getting warmer? Blushing or not, I wouldn’t mind receiving a poem like this, not at all.
I sent thee late a rosy wreath ,
Not so much honoring thee,
As giving it a hope, that there
It could not wither’d be.
In case the speaker hasn’t flattered his lover enough, he now suggests that she has some godlike power that would immortalize the wreath. In the end, I feel that this poem ends on a minor note, which is that of unrequited love. Because the beloved (however divine she may be) returns the speaker’s gift, he is left alone to smell her odor on the wilting wreath rather than drink of her divinity:
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
And sent’st it back to me:
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,
Not of itself, but thee.
If we can’t win our love through flattery, what can we do? Here in “The Passionate Shepherd to His Love” by Christopher Marlowe, we have the theme of “I would buy your love if I could but I can’t because I am a poor shepherd.” I can hear Paul McCartney singing “Can’t Buy Me Love” in the distance. The speaker in this poem writes a catalog of all of the things he would get for his beloved knowing that his beloved must know he’s a poor shepherd, since he included that tidbit in the title of his poem. It’s almost like an entreaty to the adage “it’s the thought that counts.” “Say you don’t need no diamond ring and I’ll be satisfied.” Who said anything about a diamond ring? My advice is that if you are writing a poem to your lover, don’t give her ideas of what you can’t buy her. So, what would the shepherd buy his love if he could?
Come live with me and be my Love
…There will I make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroider’d all with leaves of myrtle.
(A kirtle is just a long dress and myrtle is an evergreen shrub known for its fragrant flowers. Hey, they rhyme).
A gown made of the finest wool
…Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold.
…Thy silver dishes for thy meat
As precious as the gods do eat,
Shall on an ivory table be
Prepared each day for thee and me.
…And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my Love.
In other words, don’t live with me because of me but because of what me can give to thee. I know that some of you are thinking, “Nu-uh. You’re missing the point. This poem is meant to be taken metaphorically, you know like as in I’ll give you the world really meaning my heart, etc.” C’mon, would you accept a metaphorical engagement ring? I know I wouldn’t, and no metaphorical kirtle, nuther. Ahh, Shakespeare’s “Sonnet 116.” The first quatrain alludes to Matthew 19:6 which reads, “What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.” Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments.
Here is the idea that when God brings two souls together, He sanctions it and proves it. And no man has place to destroy it.
…Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
To me, alteration could be any number of things: poverty, sickness, deformity, etc. These are things that true love endures. The remover would be any person who would try to bias the lover against his or her beloved.
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
A bark is another word for a ship. On more than one occasion, people have commented to me over the years that one of their favorite things to see is an elderly couple holding hands as they walk together. I think that scene gives hope to all of us that there can be loving direction in our otherwise chaotic lives.
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
Essentially, time will not make a fool of true love, which endures even to the brink of death. When I read these beautiful poems I am inspired. But instead of a love poem, I prefer writing and receiving love letters. There is something very romantic about having the words “I love you” in writing from the one you love most. Remember Sophocles who said, “One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: that word is love.”