Iris, Her Book

By Oliver Wendell Holmes

    I pray thee by the soul of her that bore thee,     By thine own sister's spirit I implore thee,     Deal gently with the leaves that lie before thee!     For Iris had no mother to infold her,     Nor ever leaned upon a sister's shoulder,     Telling the twilight thoughts that Nature told her.     She had not learned the mystery of awaking     Those chorded keys that soothe a sorrow's aching,     Giving the dumb heart voice, that else were breaking.     Yet lived, wrought, suffered. Lo, the pictured token     Why should her fleeting day-dreams fade unspoken,     Like daffodils that die with sheaths unbroken?     She knew not love, yet lived in maiden fancies, -     Walked simply clad, a queen of high romances,     And talked strange tongues with angels in her trances.     Twin-souled she seemed, a twofold nature wearing:     Sometimes a flashing falcon in her daring,     Then a poor mateless dove that droops despairing.     Questioning all things: Why her Lord had sent her?     What were these torturing gifts, and wherefore lent her?     Scornful as spirit fallen, its own tormentor.     And then all tears and anguish: Queen of Heaven,     Sweet Saints, and Thou by mortal sorrows riven,     Save me! Oh, save me! Shall I die forgiven?     And then - Ah, God! But nay, it little matters:     Look at the wasted seeds that autumn scatters,     The myriad germs that Nature shapes and shatters!     If she had - Well! She longed, and knew not wherefore.     Had the world nothing she might live to care for?     No second self to say her evening prayer for?     She knew the marble shapes that set men dreaming,     Yet with her shoulders bare and tresses streaming     Showed not unlovely to her simple seeming.     Vain? Let it be so! Nature was her teacher.     What if a lonely and unsistered creature     Loved her own harmless gift of pleasing feature,     Saying, unsaddened, - This shall soon be faded,     And double-hued the shining tresses braided,     And all the sunlight of the morning shaded?     This her poor book is full of saddest follies,     Of tearful smiles and laughing melancholies,     With summer roses twined and wintry hollies.     In the strange crossing of uncertain chances,     Somewhere, beneath some maiden's tear-dimmed glances     May fall her little book of dreams and fancies.     Sweet sister! Iris, who shall never name thee,     Trembling for fear her open heart may shame thee,     Speaks from this vision-haunted page to claim thee.     Spare her, I pray thee! If the maid is sleeping,     Peace with her! she has had her hour of weeping.     No more! She leaves her memory in thy keeping.

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Poem Details

Language: English
Keywords: Public Domain
Source: Public Domain Collection
Rights/Permissions: Public Domain

Analysis & Notes:
The poem illustrates a vivid and deeply touching portrait of a woman named Iris, who is conveyed as a solitary, introspective figure grappling with existential questions and the challenges of unexpressed emotions. The theme of loneliness is pervasive, signified by Iris' motherless and sisterless existence, and her yearning for a second self to share her prayers with. This theme is counterbalanced by her imaginative and spiritual richness, as seen in her high romances and dialogues with angels.

The tone of the poem oscillates between melancholy, sympathy, and a subtle sense of admiration for Iris. The poet employs a variety of literary devices, including personification and metaphor, to elucidate Iris’ dual nature, comparing her to a falcon and a dove. The poem's structure, a series of rhyming couplets, enhances its lyrical quality and reinforces the sense of a narrative-driven exploration of Iris' character. The poem culminates with a plea for understanding and remembrance, underlining the inherent human need for empathy and acknowledgement. The recurring motif of nature – from daffodils to marble shapes – serves as a mirror to Iris' emotional landscape, further deepening our understanding of her character. In essence, the poem is a rich exploration of individuality, solitude, and the complexities of the human psyche.

Understanding Elegy

An elegy is a form of poetry that expresses sorrow or lamentation, often for someone who has died. This type of poetry serves as a tribute to the deceased, reflecting on their life and the grief left behind.


Elegies are deeply emotional and personal, exploring themes of loss, mourning, and remembrance. Here are some defining characteristics:

  • Mournful Tone: Elegies are characterized by a tone of sadness and reflection, as the poet grapples with the pain of loss.
  • Tribute to the Deceased: The subject of an elegy is often someone who has passed away, with the poem serving as a memorial that honors their life and legacy.
  • Personal Reflection: Elegies often include personal reflections on the impact of the deceased on the poet's life, as well as broader musings on mortality and the human condition.
  • Structure and Form: While elegies can vary in form, they often follow a traditional structure that includes an expression of grief, praise for the deceased, and a sense of consolation or acceptance.

From ancient times to the present, elegies have provided a way for poets to navigate the complexities of grief and loss, offering solace and a means of preserving the memory of those who have passed.