The
Picture, Or The Lover's Resolution
by
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
(Poem, Summary, & Analysis)
The
Picture, Or The Lover's Resolution
Through
weeds and thorns, and matted underwood
I
force my way; now climb, and now descend
O'er
rocks, or bare or mossy, with wild foot
Crushing
the purple whorts; while oft unseen,
Hurrying
along the drifted forest-leaves,
The
scared snake rustles. Onward still I toil,
I
know not, ask not whither! A new joy,
Lovely
as light, sudden as summer gust,
And
gladsome as the first-born of the spring,
Beckons
me on, or follows from behind,
Playmate,
or guide! The master-passion quelled,
I
feel that I am free. With dun-red bark
The
fir-trees, and the unfrequent slender oak,
Forth
from this tangle wild of bush and brake
Soar
up, and form a melancholy vault
High
o'er me, murmuring like a distant sea.
Here
Wisdom might resort, and here Remorse;
Here
too the love-lorn man, who, sick in soul,
And
of this busy human heart aweary,
Worships
the spirit of unconscious life
In
tree or wild-flower.--Gentle lunatic!
If
so he might not wholly cease to be,
He
would far rather not be that he is;
But
would be something that he knows not of,
In
winds or waters, or among the rocks!
But
hence, fond wretch! breathe not contagion here!
No
myrtle-walks are these: these are no groves
Where
Love dare loiter! If in sullen mood
He
should stray hither, the low stumps shall gore
His
dainty feet, the briar and the thorn
Make
his plumes haggard. Like a wounded bird
Easily
caught, ensnare him, O ye Nymphs,
Ye
Oreads chaste, ye dusky Dryades!
And
you, ye Earth-winds! you that make at morn
The
dew-drops quiver on the spiders' webs!
You,
O ye wingless Airs! that creep between
The
rigid stems of heath and bitten furze,
Within
whose scanty shade, at summer-noon,
The
mother-sheep hath worn a hollow bed--
Ye,
that now cool her fleece with dropless damp,
Now
pant and murmur with her feeding lamb.
Chase,
chase him, all ye Fays, and elfin Gnomes!
With
prickles sharper than his darts bemock
His
little Godship, making him perforce
Creep
through a thorn-bush on yon hedgehog's back.
This
is my hour of triumph! I can now
With
my own fancies play the merry fool,
And
laugh away worse folly, being free.
Here
will I seat myself, beside this old,
Hollow,
and weedy oak, which ivy-twine
Clothes
as with net-work: here will couch my limbs,
Close
by this river, in this silent shade,
As
safe and sacred from the step of man
As
an invisible world--unheard, unseen,
And
listening only to the pebbly brook
That
murmurs with a dead, yet tinkling sound;
Or
to the bees, that in the neighbouring trunk
Make
honey-hoards. The breeze, that visits me,
Was
never Love's accomplice, never raised
The
tendril ringlets from the maiden's brow,
And
the blue, delicate veins above her cheek;
Ne'er
played the wanton--never half disclosed
The
maiden's snowy bosom, scattering thence
Eye-poisons
for some love-distempered youth,
Who
ne'er henceforth may see an aspen-grove
Shiver
in sunshine, but his feeble heart
Shall
flow away like a dissolving thing.
Sweet
breeze! thou only, if I guess aright,
Liftest
the feathers of the robin's breast,
That
swells its little breast, so full of song,
Singing
above me, on the mountain-ash.
And
thou too, desert stream! no pool of thine,
Though
clear as lake in latest summer-eve,
Did
e'er reflect the stately virgin's robe,
The
face, the form divine, the downcast look
Contemplative!
Behold! her open palm
Presses
her cheek and brow! her elbow rests
On
the bare branch of half-uprooted tree,
That
leans towards its mirror! Who erewhile
Had
from her countenance turned, or looked by stealth
(For
fear is true-love's cruel nurse), he now
With
steadfast gaze and unoffending eye,
Worships
the watery idol, dreaming hopes
Delicious
to the soul, but fleeting, vain,
E'en
as that phantom-world on which he gazed,
But
not unheeded gazed: for see, ah! see,
The
sportive tyrant with her left hand plucks
The
heads of tall flowers that behind her grow,
Lychnis,
and willow-herb, and fox-glove bells:
And
suddenly, as one that toys with time,
Scatters
them on the pool! Then all the charm
Is
broken--all that phantom world so fair
Vanishes,
and a thousand circlets spread,
And
each mis-shapes the other. Stay awhile,
Poor
youth, who scarcely dar'st lift up thine eyes!
The
stream will soon renew its smoothness, soon
The
visions will return! And lo! he stays:
And
soon the fragments dim of lovely forms
Come
trembling back, unite, and now once more
The
pool becomes a mirror; and behold
Each
wildflower on the marge inverted there,
And
there the half-uprooted tree--but where,
O
where the virgin's snowy arm, that leaned
On
its bare branch? He turns, and she is gone!
Homeward
she steals through many a woodland maze
Which
he shall seek in vain. Ill-fated youth!
Go,
day by day, and waste thy manly prime
In
mad love-yearning by the vacant brook,
Till
sickly thoughts bewitch thine eyes, and thou
Behold'st
her shadow still abiding there,
The
Naiad of the mirror!
Not
to thee,
O
wild and desert stream! belongs this tale:
Gloomy
and dark art thou-the crowded firs
Spire
from thy shores, and stretch across thy bed,
Making
thee doleful as a cavern-well:
Save
when the shy king-fishers build their nest
On
thy steep banks, no loves hast thou, wild stream!
This
be my chosen haunt -- emancipate
From
passion's dreams, a freeman, and alone,
I
rise and trace its devious course. O lead,
Lead
me to deeper shades and lonelier glooms.
Lo!
stealing through the canopy of firs,
How
fair the sunshine spots that mossy rock,
Isle
of the river, whose disparted waves
Dart
off asunder with an angry sound,
How
soon to re-unite! And see! they meet,
Each
in the other lost and found: and see
Placeless,
as spirits, one soft water-sun
Throbbing
within them, heart at once and eye!
With
its soft neighbourhood of filmy clouds,
The
stains and shadings of forgotten tears,
Dimness
o'erswum with lustre! Such the hour
Of
deep enjoyment, following love's brief feuds;
And
hark, the noise of a near waterfall!
I
pass forth into light--I find myself
Beneath
a weeping birch (most beautiful
Of
forest trees, the Lady of the Woods),
Hard
by the brink of a tall weedy rock
That
overbrows the cataract. How burst?
The
landscape on my sight! Two crescent hills
Fold
in behind each other, and so make
A
circular vale, and land-locked, as might seem,
With
brook and bridge, and grey stone cottages,
Half
hid by rocks and fruit-trees. At my feet,
The
whortle-berries are bedewed with spray,
Dashed
upwards by the furious waterfall.
How
solemnly the pendent ivy-mass
Swings
in its winnow: All the air is calm.
The
smoke from cottage-chimneys, tinged with light,
Rises
in columns; from this house alone,
Close
by the waterfall, the column slants,
And
feels its ceaseless breeze. But what is this?
That
cottage, with its slanting chimney-smoke,
And
close beside its porch a sleeping child,
His
dear head pillow'd on a sleeping dog--
One
arm between its fore-legs, and the hand
Holds
loosely its small handful of wildflowers,
Unfilletted,
and of unequal lengths.
A
curious picture, with a master's haste
Sketched
on a strip of pinky-silver skin,
Peeled
from the birchen bark! Divinest maid!
Yon
bark her canvas, and those purple berries
Her
pencil! See, the juice is scarcely dried
On
the fine skin! She has been newly here;
And
lo! yon patch of heath has been her couch--
The
pressure still remains! O blessed couch!
For
this may'st thou flower early, and the sun,
Slanting
at eve, rest bright, and linger long
Upon
thy purple bells! O Isabel!
Daughter
of genius! stateliest of our maids!
More
beautiful than whom Alcaeus wooed,
The
Lesbian woman of immortal song!
O
child of genius! stately, beautiful,
And
full of love to all, save only me,
And
not ungentle e'en to me! My heart,
Why
beats it thus? Through yonder coppicewood
Needs
must the pathway turn, that leads straightway
On
to her father's house. She is alone!
The
night draws on-such ways are hard to hit--
And
fit it is I should restore this sketch,
Dropt
unawares no doubt. Why should I yearn
To
keep the relique? 'twill but idly feed
The
passion that consumes me. Let me haste!
The
picture in my hand which she has left;
She
cannot blame me that I follow'd her:
And
I may be her guide the long wood through.
Summary
The
poem begins with the speaker making his way through a dense and rugged forest,
filled with weeds, thorns, rocks, and underwood. Despite the rough terrain, he
pushes forward without knowing exactly where he’s going. He’s driven by a new
and inexplicable joy—as spontaneous and refreshing as spring or a sudden summer
breeze. This mysterious force seems to either beckon him from ahead or gently
push him forward from behind, serving both as a guide and playmate.
As
he journeys through the forest, the speaker describes the natural
surroundings—fir trees, oaks, the mossy ground, purple whortleberries, and
rustling snakes—all contributing to the wild and untouched atmosphere. The
master-passion (perhaps romantic longing or obsessive desire) that once held
him captive is now quieted. He feels an exhilarating sense of freedom and
emotional renewal.
The
speaker soon arrives at a secluded green spot where he reflects more deeply. He
sits beside a brook and takes out a picture of a lady—his beloved—which she had
left behind. As he contemplates her image, he muses on the delicate beauty and
expressive tenderness captured in the painting. Her presence, even in the
picture, evokes both adoration and sorrow. Her eyes, her posture, and the
setting portrayed in the painting reflect grace, melancholy, and poetic
sensibility.
Moved
deeply, the speaker experiences a conflict: Should he keep the picture and feed
the burning passion that consumes him, or should he let it go and find real
solace? In a moment of resolution, he chooses action over passive longing. He
resolves not to remain in contemplation, clinging to an image of love, but to
follow the woman herself.
He
tells himself that she cannot blame him for following her, especially if he can
guide her through the long and potentially treacherous wood. With this
determined spirit, he rises, holding the picture in his hand, and hurries
onward—symbolizing the transition from imagination and desire to purposeful
action and hope.
Summary
Sectioned by Stanzas
Stanza
1: The Journey Begins (Lines 1–14)
The
poem opens with the speaker navigating through a rugged and wild forest. He
climbs over rocks, crushes berries underfoot, and startles hidden snakes.
Despite the difficulty, he presses onward, driven by a new joy—a mysterious and
uplifting feeling that seems to call or accompany him, as if it’s a playmate or
guide. He is no longer under the grip of a dominating passion and feels a new
sense of freedom in his heart.
Stanza
2: The Forest Setting (Lines 15–29)
As
the speaker continues his journey, he takes note of the majestic and solemn
forest: tall firs with reddish bark, occasional slender oaks, and the ground
covered with grass and herbs. He appreciates the stillness and beauty of the
scene, noting how sunlight and shadow play through the foliage. The natural
world seems both peaceful and sublime, and this deepens his mood of inward
reflection and emotional clarity.
Stanza
3: The Secluded Green Spot (Lines 30–47)
The
speaker finds a quiet, open space—a green clearing with a murmuring brook and
delicate wildflowers like harebells. He sits down and begins to rest,
describing the peaceful beauty of this spot. The quiet water and fresh breeze
soothe him, and he seems to feel both physically and emotionally renewed. It is
here that he turns to the picture of the woman he loves, which he holds in his
hand.
Stanza
4: The Picture Described (Lines 48–78)
He
begins to describe the lady in the picture—a gentle, poetic woman sitting
beside a stream, her head slightly bowed and her face expressive of deep
feeling. The speaker notes the gracefulness and serenity in her posture and
features. Her eyes, though downcast, suggest deep thought, perhaps melancholy.
The landscape in the picture mirrors the real one around him, creating a poetic
harmony between image and nature. The speaker is overwhelmed by the emotional
depth he perceives in her image.
Stanza
5: Emotional Reflection (Lines 79–108)
As
he gazes at the picture, he reflects on her tenderness and poetic spirit, which
he believes is echoed by the gentleness of nature. The scene moves him deeply;
he sees in her image a spiritual beauty that transcends physical form. Yet at
the same time, he feels a conflict: the picture, while lovely, feeds a passion
that might consume him if he continues to dwell on it. He begins to question
whether holding on to the image is wise or if it only prolongs his longing.
Stanza
6: The Resolution (Lines 109–End)
The
speaker finally resolves to act. Instead of staying behind and cherishing a
lifeless image, he decides to follow the woman herself, who had left the
picture behind. He believes that she cannot blame him for doing so, especially
if he can be of help to her as a guide through the long, wooded path. With
that, he rises in haste, full of hopeful determination, and begins to walk,
still holding the picture—his love and resolution now fused into purposeful
action.
Analysis
in Detail
This
poem, written in blank verse, narrates a deeply personal emotional journey. The
speaker travels through a forested landscape, carrying a picture of the woman
he loves. As he interacts with the natural world and reflects on the image, he
experiences a shift—from inward longing and imaginative idealism to outward
action and resolution. The forest setting mirrors his psychological landscape,
and the picture becomes a symbol of both poetic inspiration and emotional
torment.
Nature
as a Mirror of the Mind
From
the opening lines, nature is more than a backdrop—it reflects the speaker's
emotional state and inner journey. The tangled undergrowth and wild terrain
symbolize the difficulty of navigating his feelings. Yet, the "new
joy" that pushes or pulls him along suggests hope and renewal.
Coleridge,
like other Romantic poets, uses nature as a spiritual and psychological mirror.
The landscape isn’t simply physical; it becomes part of the speaker's soul,
shifting from wild and tangled to calm and green as his emotional state softens
and finds clarity.
The
Picture: Symbol of Idealized Love and Poetic Beauty
The
central object—the picture of the lady—is rich in symbolism:
It
captures her external beauty but also conveys her internal emotion, especially
through her thoughtful posture and downcast eyes.
It
becomes a focus of admiration and almost religious devotion, portraying the
woman as a near-divine figure.
At
the same time, it’s a source of pain, as it intensifies his longing for
something he cannot truly possess.
Coleridge
explores how art (the picture) can preserve beauty and emotion, but also how it
may trap the soul in reverie, detaching the viewer from real life.
Conflict
Between Imagination and Reality
The
poem dramatizes the speaker’s psychological conflict:
Should
he remain in poetic contemplation, cherishing the image and its ideal beauty?
Or
should he step into the real world, act on his feelings, and pursue the living
woman?
This
tension is a hallmark of Romantic poetry—the struggle between the life of
imagination (art, memory, symbols) and the life of action (choice, pursuit,
experience). The title itself—The Lover’s Resolution—signals that a decision
will be made.
Love,
Loss, and Longing
The
speaker is clearly a lover in emotional turmoil. The woman is not physically
present; she is imagined through the picture and the speaker’s memories. This
distance heightens the themes of:
Romantic
longing
The
pain of separation
The
idealization of the beloved
Coleridge
handles these emotions delicately, portraying the speaker’s love not as selfish
desire but as worshipful, gentle, and spiritually intense.
Transformation
and Resolution
By
the end of the poem, the speaker undergoes a transformation:
He
moves from passivity to action, from emotional paralysis to purpose.
His
decision to follow the woman (with the picture still in hand) reflects his
willingness to merge imagination with real experience.
The
resolution isn’t to abandon feeling, but to act on it in a way that still
honors its poetic sensitivity.
Tone
and Voice
The
tone is:
Reflective
and lyrical in the beginning
Tender
and reverent in the description of the woman
Tormented
and conflicted in the middle
Decisive
and hopeful at the end
The
first-person voice gives the poem an intimate, confessional quality, making the
emotional evolution feel authentic and sincere.
Form
and Structure
Blank
verse (unrhymed iambic pentameter) gives the poem a flowing, natural rhythm,
suited to the meditative tone.
The
poem follows a linear progression from wilderness to emotional peace, from
contemplation to action, mimicking the structure of a spiritual journey or
pilgrimage.
There
are no formal stanzas, but the content divides naturally into thematic phases.
Key
Themes
Nature
as spiritual guide and mirror
The
tension between imagination and action
Idealized
love vs. real connection
Emotional
renewal through self-awareness
Art
as a double-edged sword—beautiful but limiting
Conclusion
The
Picture, Or, The Lover’s Resolution is a poignant Romantic exploration of love,
loss, and emotional transformation. Through rich imagery and deep
introspection, Coleridge leads us through a soul’s journey from emotional
entrapment toward liberation and action. The forest and the picture are more
than symbols—they’re stages in a psychological evolution. Ultimately, the poem
affirms that while art and imagination are powerful, real fulfillment comes
from engaging with life itself.
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