I have to teach this poem to a challenging Year 10 class who are astonishingly apathetic when it comes to poetry, and what's even worse is that I've never come across it before and can't find any commentary on it anywhere online.

Can anyone offer me a brief interpretation, along with possible suggestions for linking it to the lives of fifteen-year-olds?


The Poison Flower

The poison flower that in my garden grew
Killed all the other flowers beside.
They withered off and died,
Because their fiery foe sucked up the dew.

When the sun shone, the poison flower breathed cold
And spread a chilly mist of dull disgrace.
They could not see his face,
Roses and lilies languished and grew old.

Wherefore I tore that flower up by the root,
And flung it on the rubbish heap to fade
Amid the havoc that itself had made.
I did not leave one shoot.

Fair is my garden as it once was fair.
Lilies and roses reign.
They drink the dew, they see the sun again;
But I rejoice no longer, walking there.

Well, clearly she intents the poison flower to be a metaphor for something/someone. Like the one bad apple that spoils the bunch? Possibly, but she regrets the loss of it by the end of the poem. So, one is left with the interpretation that she is sad to have lost a person, or (more likely) regrets having lost a part of her personality/make-up that she once felt it wise to discard.

A similar message in this one?:


The Other Side of a Mirror

I SAT before my glass one day,
And conjured up a vision bare,
Unlike the aspects glad and gay,
That erst were found reflected there--
The vision of a woman, wild
With more than womanly despair.

Her hair stood back on either side
A face bereft of loveliness.
It had no envy now to hide
What once no man on earth could guess.
It formed the thorny aureole
Of hard unsanctified distress.

Her lips were open--not a sound
Came through the parted lines of red.
Whate'er it was, the hideous wound
In silence and in secret bled.
No sigh relieved her speechless woe,
She had no voice to speak her dread.

And in her lurid eyes there shone
The dying flame of life's desire,
Made mad because its hope was gone,
And kindled at the leaping fire
Of jealousy, and fierce revenge,
And strength that could not change nor tire.

Shade of a shadow in the glass,
O set the crystal surface free!
Pass--as the fairer visions pass--
Not ever more to return, to be
The ghost of a distracted hour,
That hear me whisper, 'I am she!'

The line 'They could not see his face' makes me think that she has dumped some man who was bad for her (or at least disapproving of her personality or her friends) and finds that she still misses him.

The 'my boy/girl-friend doesn't like my friends and vice-versa' is a common theme in relationships, especially for teens. Perhaps a discussion that starts here could be a way into the poem.

There's also the technique of tossing candy to people who speak up!

pam

Makes sense. One cannot help thinking of Blake's Poison Tree as well:


I was angry with my friend;
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I waterd it in fears,
Night & morning with my tears:
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night.
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine.

And into my garden stole,
When the night had veild the pole;
In the morning glad I see;
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.


Mary Coleridge lived 1861-1907, so it is likely she read Blake. I understand she died quite young from appendicitis, but I do not know if she was hetero- or homo-sexual, or whether that could even have anything to do with the theme of the poem in question.

"There's also the technique of tossing candy to people who speak up!"

think you've been seeing the same films as I have. Find it utterly embarrising that noone ever tossed me any, but here I am. Loving poetry nonetheless.

Another quote from the same film:
"This wouldn't happened to have been their reward for reading poetry would it?"

"In my classroom, poetry is its own reward. "

Note, the this does NOT refer to the candy. This film gives me the feeling I made things way too easy for my teachers!

Thanks for the help - I think I can work out now how to make this a bit easier for the kids to understand. That's the problem with teaching academic material to kids who just aren't academically minded - they'll work for sweets but aren't interested in working for the satisfaction of learning or achieving.



*****

Dream a demon with innocent eyes
Dream a preacher telling lies
Dream children missing purity
Dream the way tomorrow may be

Dream a demon with innocent eyes
Dream a preacher telling lies
Dream children missing purity
Dream the way tomorrow may be

Good stuff. Yours?

It is, and thank you. Goodness me, I'd all but forgotten that was in my sig - it's so long since I last posted here!



*****

Dream a demon with innocent eyes
Dream a preacher telling lies
Dream children missing purity
Dream the way tomorrow may be

The poem that you typed in ur reply...the one titled "The Other Side Of A Mirror".... who is the author of that? And if you are the author would you allow me to include it in a poerty anthology i am making for my english class? I would most appriciate it! thank you so much!

--Kim

[tinyurl.com]

It's Mary's as well. I am sure it is no longer under copyright, so you may use it as you please, making sure to attribute it to her.

im studying "posion flower"...dont understand it at all!!! any help into the meaning of its story...literal and metaphoric??? PLEASE!

I believe that it is metaphoric. An abusive relationship? I am doing a paper on it as well. I am having a lot of trouble finding any information on it though.

A few puzzles in this poem.

What or who is the 'fiery foe' in stanza 1? The most natural meaning would be the hot sun that soaks up the dew, but that makes no sense in the context. If the 'foe' is the poison flower, why describe it in the first stanza as 'fiery' when in the next stanza it is described as breathing 'cold' and spreading a 'chilly' mist. ('They could not see his face' surely means that the other flowers could not see the sun's face).

A flower spreading mist is ludicrous as an image. It can only be a metaphor (rather too far-fetched in my opinion).

To understand this poem you don't need to posit some dumped man or abusive relationship.

If the metaphorical poison flower is something hot by night and cold by day, it's not apt to signify another person. Much more likely, as Hugh has pointed out, it represents something in the speaker's own personality. Probably feelings of physical passion that she feels ashamed about.

So she gets rid of those passions (not clear how she manages that!), and then finds that life isn't as enjoyable as it used to be. Surprise, surprise.

Hardly surprising however that Year 10 kids are apathetic about poetry if this is the kind they are forced to study. The whole premise of the poem is too old fashioned to interest them, and the metaphor of a garden with lilies and roses drinking the dew and seeing the sun is strained, and probably far removed from their experience. How many of them live in homes with such gardens, let alone spend time tending the flowers? I feel sorry for Jenf having to teach this poem as if it were a major work, which it certainly isn't.

I don't think getting kids interested in poetry need depend on whether they are academically minded. It's a matter of starting with something they can relate to, and developing from there. A reverse way of arousing their interest might be to get them to articulate what they hate about poetry. Give them a selection of say a dozen very different poems, and ask them to vote for which one they hate or bores them the most, and which one they like (or tolerate) the best. Start with the hated one, and bring out all the reasons, like sticking pins in a doll. After the fun of that, the class might be in a better mood to explore and appreciate the relatively good qualities of the one voted the best or the least unpopular.

That is just an idea. I have never been a classroom teacher. I appreciate there may be practical constraints, like a syllabus to get through. But regulations are for the guidance of wise people and the slavish obedience of fools. Sometimes, as portrayed in that movie 'The Dead Poets Society', you have to go by a circuitous route to get where you want to be.



Edited 8 time(s). Last edit at 10/02/2022 02:45AM by IanB.

Mary Coleridge wasn’t the first to use a garden as a metaphor for the poet’s personality. It goes back at least to the traditional Dutch Christmas carol ‘Heer Jesus heeft een hofken’ published in 1633.

There are two versions on the Internet:

Heer Jesus heeft een hofken
daer schoon bloemkens staen,
daerin soo wil ick plukken gaen.
die leliekens die ick daer sagh, sijn suverheid,
de schoone purperrose, was de lydzaemheyd,
de schoon vergulde goude bloeme gehoorsaemheyd,.
Nog was er één, die boven al spande de Kroon,
Corona Imperiale, ‘t was de liefde schoon.

or

Heer Jesus heeft een hofken, daar schoon bloemkens staan.
Daarin zoo wil ik plukken gaan, ‘t is wel gedaan.
Men hoort daar niet dan engelenzang en harpgespel,
Trompetten en klaretten en die veelkens al zo wel.
Die leliekens, die ik daar zag, zijn zuiverheid,
die zoete violetten zijn ootmoedigheid.
De schone purperroze was de lijdzaamheid,
de schoon vergulde goudebloem gehoorzaamheid.
Nog was er een, die boven al spande de kroon:
Coron imperiale, ‘t was de liefde schoon.
Maar d’allerschoonste beste bloem al in dat hof,
Dat was den Here Jesus zoet, dus zij Hem lof.
Och Jesus, al mijn gebed en al mijn zaligheid,
Maak van mijn hert Uw hoveken, het is bereid.

I don’t speak Dutch, so don’t know whether the small differences, e.g. between ‘staen’ and ‘staan’, are due to typos or to language development over several centuries. Desi should be able to tell us.

The English translation by George Ratcliffe Woodward (1848-1934) is still popular as a carol, with a fast, catchy melody which, especially when sung by brilliant performers such as the choir of King’s College, Cambridge, overrides any thought of how soppy the words are:


King Jesus hath a garden, full of divers flowers,
Where I go culling posies gay, all times and hours.

    [Refrain]
    There naught is heard but Paradise bird,
    Harp, dulcimer, lute,
    With cymbal, trump and tymbal,
    And the tender, soothing flute.

The Lily, white in blossom there, is Chastity:
The Violet, with sweet perfume, Humanity. [Refrain]

The bonny Damask-rose is known as Patience:
The blithe and thrifty Marygold, Obedience. [Refrain]

The Crown Imperial bloometh too in yonder place,
'Tis Charity, of stock divine, the flower of grace. [Refrain]

Yet, 'mid the brave, the bravest prize of all may claim
The Star of Bethlem-Jesus-blessed be his Name! [Refrain]

Ah! Jesu Lord, my heal and weal, my bliss complete,
Make thou my heart thy garden-plot, fair, trim and neat. [Refrain]


Mary Coleridge may possibly have sung this carol or heard it sung before she wrote ‘The Poison Flower’.

Note that the first flower named in the carol is a lily, and the second stanza begins by naming a rose. As lilies and roses represent chastity and patience according to this carol, Mary may have intended them in her poem to be opposed to impatient physical passion.



Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 10/01/2022 11:03PM by IanB.

The differences are due to language/spelling change. The first version is really old dutch spelling, the second less old spelling.

I think there are two typos though, in the third line and the last line: (I'm sure of the first, the latter may have changed over the years, but I think not)

Men hoort daar niets dan engelenzang en harpgespel,

Maak van mijn hart Uw hoveken, het is bereid.


The English version is an adapted one, not a literal translation (as might be expected). Here is a literal translation of the Dutch version:

Heer Jesus heeft een hofken, daar schoon bloemkens staan.
Lord Jesus has a little garden, where beautiful flowers are.

Daarin zoo wil ik plukken gaan, ‘t is wel gedaan.
There I want to pluck, as is sometimes done (last part?)

Men hoort daar niets dan engelenzang en harpgespel,
Nothing can be heard there than the singing of angels and the sound of the harp

Trompetten en klaretten en die veelkens al zo wel.
Trumpets and clarinets and many of these.

Die leliekens, die ik daar zag, zijn zuiverheid,
The little lilies I saw there are purity,

die zoete violetten zijn ootmoedigheid.
those sweet violets are modesty

De schone purperroze was de lijdzaamheid,
The beautiful purple roze (not sure here) was patience

de schoon vergulde goudebloem gehoorzaamheid.
The beautiful and gilded golden flower (?) obedience.

Nog was er een, die boven al spande de kroon:
There was another one, that crowned them all:

Coron imperiale, ‘t was de liefde schoon.
the imperial crown, it was beautiful love.

Maar d’allerschoonste beste bloem al in dat hof,
Yet, the most beautiful and best flower in that garden,

Dat was den Here Jesus zoet, dus zij Hem lof.
Was the sweet lord Jesus, so praise him.

Och Jesus, al mijn gebed en al mijn zaligheid,
Oh Jesus, al my prayers and all my salvation,

Maak van mijn hart Uw hoveken, het is bereid.
Make your garden from my heart, it is prepared.


Thank you for posting this. It is a part of dutch culture I was not familiar with yet.