9-14 LitCharts-i-remember-i-remember
9-14 LitCharts-i-remember-i-remember
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I Remember, I Remember
But these days, I often wish I'd died during the night!
POEM TEXT I remember the red and white roses, the violets, and the
lilies—flowers that seemed to be made of light. I remember the
1 I remember, I remember, lilac bush where the robins nested, and the place where my
2 The house where I was born, brother planted the laburnum tree on his birthday; it's still
3 The little window where the sun growing today!
4 Came peeping in at morn; I remember where I used to play on the swing; I felt sure that
5 He never came a wink too soon, the air rushing past me must feel just as fresh to swooping
6 Nor brought too long a day, swallows. My soul seemed to be a bird then, but now it's
weighed down—and even a summer swim couldn't cool my
7 But now, I often wish the night
feverish forehead!
8 Had borne my breath away!
I remember the tall fir trees; I used to believe their tops nearly
9 I remember, I remember, touched the sky. That was just childish foolishness. But now
that I'm an adult, it doesn't give me much pleasure to know that
10 The roses, red and white,
heaven is farther away than I believed it was when I was little.
11 The vi'lets, and the lily-cups,
12 Those flowers made of light!
13 The lilacs where the robin built, THEMES
14 And where my brother set
15 The laburnum on his birthday,— NOSTALGIA FOR THE JOY OF
16 The tree is living yet! CHILDHOOD
The speaker of “I Remember, I Remember” looks back
17 I remember, I remember,
with mingled love and pain at the days of his childhood. When
18 Where I was used to swing,
he was a child, he remembers, he felt in tune with the world
19 And thought the air must rush as fresh around him, loved the beauty of nature, and took delight in
20 To swallows on the wing; every day. Adulthood, alas, doesn’t feel like that at all. To a sad
21 My spirit flew in feathers then, or suffering adult, this poem suggests, the innocent freedom of
22 That is so heavy now, childhood can look like a lost paradise; growing up seems to
23 And summer pools could hardly cool mean all loss and little reward.
24 The fever on my brow! In this speaker’s memory, childhood might as well have been an
eternal summer holiday. The “roses,” “vi’lets” (violets), and “lily-
25 I remember, I remember, cups” (lilies) were always in bloom; the days always felt just the
26 The fir trees dark and high; right length; and riding a swing, the speaker felt as if his “spirit
27 I used to think their slender tops flew in feathers” like a swallow. He delighted in the natural
28 Were close against the sky: world around him and greeted every day with joy. (The speaker
is idealizing his youth here: it couldn’t always have been a
29 It was a childish ignorance,
blissful summer day when he was a boy, after all. Nonetheless,
30 But now 'tis little joy
he's capturing something important about a kind of joy he only
31 To know I'm farther off from heav'n felt as a child.)
32 Than when I was a boy.
As an adult, by contrast, the speaker’s soul feels anything but
feather-light. He’s “heavy” with worries, there’s a “fever on [his]
brow,” and he often wishes that he’d just die in the night so he
SUMMARY wouldn’t have to face the morning. Looking back on his youth,
he feels a melancholy, bittersweet nostalgia for a time when he
I remember the house I was born in, with the little window was joyfully in tune with the world around him and unburdened
where the morning sun peeked in. Back then, the sun never by cares. For this speaker, being a child meant living a life of
seemed to rise too early, and the day never seemed too long. freedom, exhilaration, and easy joy—and adulthood feels like
This long chain of gentle, lilting /l/ sounds (deepened by the • The first section fondly describes the speaker’s
internal /l/ consonance of “fllowers,” "vi'llets," “llilly-cups,” and boyhood joys.
“llillacs,” as well as the long /i/ assonance of "vii'lets," "liight," • The second introduces the speaker’s adult
"liilacs") makes this garden sound as harmonious as it looks. experience, usually setting up an unhappy
And when the speaker describes how his soul once "fflew in juxtaposition
juxtaposition: his once birdlike soul is “heavy” now,
feathers" like a little bird, his jaunty /f/ alliteration gives his the mornings he used to greet so happily now begin
words a fitting lift. days that drag out for “too long.”