Now and then-O frabjous day! -you send me a poem I've never read before that really grabs me. This is the best yet. I love a poem I can't quite figure out rationally, and some of the language in this one is really oblique, especially the final 2 stanzas.
What political incidents forced Elizabeth Barrett Browning to write something this embittered? Could it have been the scandalous English lack of interest in the Irish potato famine? Or does it pertain to America? Sometimes it reads as if she is writing of the slave-owning Confederate 'aristocrats, ' but the British in India, Africa and elsewhere were no better.
Truly, it's universal. It pertains as much to our country today-an outcry against jingoists, hypocrites and timid liberals who whisper objections but do nothing-as it did in 19th century imperialist England!
Why is this so incomplete? It breaks off at section 37. 'Song of Myself' is probably the best poem ever written in the United States, so it would be a good idea to include all of it. The little excerpts don't help. (I'm amazined that no one else had commented on this.)