SIGN IN to access Harper’s Magazine
1. Sign in to Customer Care using your account number or postal address.
2. Select Email/Password Information.
3. Enter your new information and click on Save My Changes.
Subscribers can find additional help here. Not a subscriber? Subscribe today!
The ship went on with solemn face;
To meet the darkness on the deep,
The solemn ship went onward.
I bowed down weary in the place;
for parting tears and present sleep
Had weighed mine eyelids downward.
The new sight, the new wondrous sight!
The waters around me, turbulent,
The skies, impassive o’er me,
Calm in a moonless, sunless light,
As glorified by even the intent
Of holding the day glory!
Love me, sweet friends, this sabbath day.
The sea sings round me while ye roll afar
The hymn, unaltered,
And kneel, where once I knelt to pray,
And bless me deeper in your soul
Because your voice has faltered.
And though this sabbath comes to me
Without the stolèd minister,
And chanting congregation,
God’s Spirit shall give comfort.
He who brooded soft on waters drear,
Creator on creation.
He shall assist me to look higher,
He shall assist me to look higher,
Where keep the saints, with harp and song,
An endless endless sabbath morning,
An endless sabbath morning,
And on that sea commixed with fire,
On that sea commixed with fire,
Oft drop their eyelids raised too long
To the full Godhead’s burning.
The full Godhead’s burning.
–Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Sabbath Morning at Sea first published in The Amaranth (1839), revised 1850.
Today Elizabeth Barrett Browning has emerged as the equal of her husband Robert by every measure of poetical genius. But for a modern audience, this may still be one of the less approachable of her major poems. It seems a typical example of Victorian religious sentimentality–the theme is the approach of death, and on All Saints Day, the narrator finds herself on a ship at sea. The ship is an ancient image for the church (“chanting congregation” and “stolèd minister”) bearing the subject across to an afterlife in the presence of God. The attitude is one of resolution at the end of an exhausting ordeal of life (“I bowed down weary in the place”), a sense of shared communion coupled with firm expectations about afterlife. Religion is thus presented as personal, but also socializing and uplifting, reflecting deeply held convictions of the Victorian Age which are nevertheless threads of the universal.
Listen to Dame Janet Baker sing Sabbath Morning at Sea set to music from Sir Edward Elgar’s Sea Pictures, Op. 37 (1899), Sir John Barbirolli conducts the London Symphony Orchestra:
More from Scott Horton:
Conversation — August 5, 2016, 12:08 pm
Sidney Blumenthal on the origins of the Republican Party, the fallout from Clinton’s emails, and his new biography of Abraham Lincoln
Conversation — March 30, 2016, 3:44 pm
Joseph Hickman discusses his new book, The Burn Pits, which tells the story of thousands of U.S. soldiers who, after returning from Iraq and Afghanistan, have developed rare cancers and respiratory diseases.
Years ago, I lived in Montana, a land of purple sunsets, clear streams, and snowflakes the size of silver dollars drifting through the cold air. There were no speed limits and you could legally drive drunk. My small apartment in Missoula had little privacy. In order to write, I rented an off-season fishing cabin on Rock Creek, a one-room place with a bed and a bureau. I lacked the budget for a desk. My idea was to remove a sliding door from a closet in my apartment and place it over a couple of hastily cobbled-together sawhorses.
Age after which Mick Jagger has said that he’d “rather die” than still be performing “Satisfaction”:
A bioengineered lacrimal gland was successfully shedding tears.
Investigators found that a surgeon in Massachusetts accidentally removed a kidney from the wrong patient, and a former mayor in Thailand was given a six-month prison sentence for kicking his doctor in the neck.
Subscribe to the Weekly Review newsletter. Don’t worry, we won’t sell your email address!
“Matt was happy enough to sustain himself on the detritus of a world he saw as careening toward self-destruction, and equally happy to scam a government he despised. 'I’m glad everyone’s so wasteful,' he told me. 'It supports my lifestyle.'”