Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show...(the opening lines of David Copperfield as written by Charles Dickens;inspired by MTM). Or at least this ACCOUNT will, perhaps, have a reflection on whether I'm going to be the hero in my own life...to March into Hell; for a Heavenly Quest---To Dream the Impossible Dream; Man from LaMancha
Having been introduced to This poem by Hewson Towne, the pen-name for Charles Hanson Towne, in a time period when another one of his poems was about to have an impact on me last year---I thought it was worth devoting some time to explore The Promise.
The Promise---has the passion, the emotion, the compelling drama that Towne's poems possess. This poem tries to answer the universal question about love, if it is true, and if it is everlasting. I have been offered an interpretation of this poem and I will submit it as part of this essay because I feel it is well grounded in how Towne would want his Crimson Red Rose to be seen and considered. This person's thoughts are as follows...but did you see that the flower he is talking about is a red crimson ROSE!!!! And if you don't see one after I'm gone...that means I did not love you...but don't worry it will be there and you will know that I DID love you...and rose bushes can live forever if they are cared for...so then you would see the red rose bloom for your lifetime and always be reminded of the love I have for you in death.
It is the frailty of humanity that has us doubt so much of what we are lead to believe we have. And that craving, and that doubt exists with the emotion of Love. It is our driving-force to find that one harvest of our heart. The evidence of that harvest not only existed in the spring when violets also come to life, not only in the golden summer when the evidence is plenty, "...but 'neath the Winter moon A passion-flower trembled thro' the snow." Even through the darkest of nights where the only light, the only ray of hope is a glimmer at best, what is revealed is love existing because of the Passion-Flower. The Crimson Rose; trembling, is up and visible through the snow. Despite the darkest of nights, and the coldest of experiences---that Harvest will stay True.
The Promise
Having been introduced to This poem by Hewson Towne, the pen-name for Charles Hanson Towne, in a time period when another one of his poems was about to have an impact on me last year---I thought it was worth devoting some time to explore The Promise.
The Promise---has the passion, the emotion, the compelling drama that Towne's poems possess. This poem tries to answer the universal question about love, if it is true, and if it is everlasting. I have been offered an interpretation of this poem and I will submit it as part of this essay because I feel it is well grounded in how Towne would want his Crimson Red Rose to be seen and considered. This person's thoughts are as follows...but did you see that the flower he is talking about is a red crimson ROSE!!!! And if you don't see one after I'm gone...that means I did not love you...but don't worry it will be there and you will know that I DID love you...and rose bushes can live forever if they are cared for...so then you would see the red rose bloom for your lifetime and always be reminded of the love I have for you in death.
It is the frailty of humanity that has us doubt so much of what we are lead to believe we have. And that craving, and that doubt exists with the emotion of Love. It is our driving-force to find that one harvest of our heart. The evidence of that harvest not only existed in the spring when violets also come to life, not only in the golden summer when the evidence is plenty, "...but 'neath the Winter moon A passion-flower trembled thro' the snow." Even through the darkest of nights where the only light, the only ray of hope is a glimmer at best, what is revealed is love existing because of the Passion-Flower. The Crimson Rose; trembling, is up and visible through the snow. Despite the darkest of nights, and the coldest of experiences---that Harvest will stay True.
by Charles Hanson Towne
1877-1949, written in 1908
She said to him, "Unless, when I am dead
From out the green sod of my lowly grave
A crimson rose should rise and softly wave,
Whispering words like those my poor heart said;
Unless this token of a passion fled
Should come to tell you all that you may crave,
Then you shall know I loved you not! Be brave!
That rose shall bloom, and you be comforted."
But when she died, not only in the Spring,
When violets wake, and in the deeps of June,
Her lover saw a red rose lightly blow;
Not only did the golden Summer bring
Gifts for his heart, but 'neath the Winter moon
A passion-flower trembled thro' the snow
--{-=@
Hickok
1877-1949, written in 1908
She said to him, "Unless, when I am dead
From out the green sod of my lowly grave
A crimson rose should rise and softly wave,
Whispering words like those my poor heart said;
Unless this token of a passion fled
Should come to tell you all that you may crave,
Then you shall know I loved you not! Be brave!
That rose shall bloom, and you be comforted."
But when she died, not only in the Spring,
When violets wake, and in the deeps of June,
Her lover saw a red rose lightly blow;
Not only did the golden Summer bring
Gifts for his heart, but 'neath the Winter moon
A passion-flower trembled thro' the snow
--{-=@
Hickok
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