Commentry On "Remember" By Christina Rosetti

Mark Tan (poetry paper)

Remember

by Christina Rosetti

Remember me when I am gone away,

Gone far away into the silent land;

When you can no more hold me by the hand,

Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day

You tell me of our future that you plann'd:

Only remember me; you understand

It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while

And afterwards remember, do not grieve:

For if the darkness and corruption leave

A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,

Better by far you should forget and smile

Than that you should remember and be sad.

Place no roses on my gravestone, I cannot feel the softness of its petals or breathe the sweetness of its scent, make no offerings of gold or sweet cakes, such things are meaningless to the dead. Only remember me, think of the times we had, the life we planned. As time passes and you forget, do not dwell upon me if it causes you regret. This is the essence of the poem "Remember" by Christina Rosetti.

Christina Rosetti (5/12/1830 - 29/12/1894) was born in London to an upper middleclass family. Her entire family was devoted to the study of art and literature, notably Dante Rosetti a founding member of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. Christina was a devout Anglican. Never married, but deeply in love twice in her life, Christina contemplated becoming a nun. Instead, she devoted her life to charitable work. Christina spent her time volunteering at a home for prostitutes. Coming from her privileged background and giving aid to what was considered to be the bottom rung in a class based society, gave Christina a broad view of life.

Christina wrote the poem "Remember" while she was engaged to James Collinson, her first love. It is unusual that a young lady would think so deeply of death and its pathos during the period in her life when she is in love. One can infer from her rejection of joy and hope during this period of time as a struggle to reject love and her womanly desires for reasons we can only guess at. This makes the poem all the more poignant and disturbingly beautiful to me.

Louis Untermeyer(a New York native, poet and journalist) defined poetry as "the power