GOBLIN MARKET INTRODUCTION

In A Nutshell
Christina Rossetti 's "Goblin Market," like most art by members of the Pre-Raphaelite group, is
teeming with symbolism. And guess what – this means there's plenty of work to be done digging
up the good stuff. Not that it's uninteresting on the surface, or narrative, level. "Goblin Market" is
about two sisters, one of whom gets sick after eating bad goblin fruit, and is healed because of
her sister's bravery.

The Rossettis were an extraordinary family. Christina Rossetti was the youngest child in a family
of poets, artists, and philosophers. Christina's father, Gabriele Rossetti, was an Italian political
refugee. Rossetti was married to an English woman, and he continued to live in England
because he couldn't return to Italy. Christina's brother, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, was a poet, a
painter, and a prominent member of the artistic group called the Pre-Raphaelite
Brotherhood. William Michael Rossetti another brother, was a literary and art critic. Maria
Francesca, Christina's older sister, was intensely religious and eventually became a nun. Like
many young English women in the Victorian period (i.e., during the reign of Queen Victoria, or
1837-1901), Christina Rossetti was educated at home. Like her sister, she was a devout Anglo-
Catholic. But like her brothers, Christina was also closely associated with the Pre-Raphaelite
Brotherhood. She wrote occasional poems and essays for the Pre-Raphaelite journal, The
Germ. Encouraged by her family, she eventually published a collection of poetry, Goblin Market
and Other Poems, in 1862.

The Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood (PRB) was a group of painters, poets, and critics who thought
that art had gone down the tubes since the time of the Renaissance Italian painter Raphael.
They wanted both visual art and poetry to return to the intense colors and vivid detail typical of
artists in the early Italian Renaissance. Pre-Raphaelite painters and poets depicted even the
humblest objects with great detail – nothing was beneath their notice.

But their art wasn't just about nostalgia for the past. The Pre-Raphaelites were also progressive
and forward thinking. The PRB wanted to buck the system and rebel against the kind of art
taught by the Royal Academy schools in England. They thought that all forms of art were closely
linked, so they encouraged PRB members to dabble in different media: painters tried writing
poetry, and poets tried painting. Christina Rossetti's brother, Dante Gabriel, was the most
successful at integrating different forms. He's now remembered as both a painter and poet.

Christina Rossetti was never an official member of the PRB (after all, it was a "Brotherhood"),
but she was still an important part of the group. Her brother, Dante Gabriel, contributed
paintings to illustrate "Goblin Market." In addition, her poems are all clearly influenced by the
values of the PRB. Check out the "Best of the Web" section to see examples of Dante Gabriel
Rossetti's paintings for "Goblin Market."

WHY SHOULD I CARE?

Some folks like to read "Goblin Market" as just being about female heroism and sisterhood, and
stop there. But you can also read it as an allegory about bad markets and bad investments (this
should sound familiar to anyone who has turned on the TV, seen a newspaper, or glanced at a
news site lately). Or you could read "Goblin Market" as a scathing criticism of the way women
were objectified and treated as commodities on a marriage market during the Victorian period.
You could also read it as a poem about sexual purity.

In other words, "Goblin Market" has a lot going on. If you're interested in heroism, the economy,
marriage, or sex (and we're sure at least one of those things will catch your attention), "Goblin
Market" is definitely for you.

GOBLIN MARKET SUMMARY

Two sisters, Laura and Lizzie, hear the sounds of the goblin fruit market from their house. At first
they try to ignore the enticing calls of the goblin men, but eventually Laura decides to go out and
see what's happening. Lizzie warns her not to, but Laura is too curious. The goblin men offer
her their fruit, and Laura thinks it looks tasty. She doesn't have any money, but the goblins offer
to take a piece of her golden hair instead. So Laura gives up some of her hair, gorges herself on
goblin fruit, and heads on home to her sister.

But after eating all that goblin fruit, Laura starts to waste away. Lizzie gets worried and decides
to go down to the market to see what's what. The goblin men try to tempt her the way they
tempted Laura, but Lizzie stands firm. The goblin men turn violent and try to stuff fruit in Lizzie's
mouth, but she squeezes her mouth shut, so they just end up getting juice all over her. Lizzie
runs back to their house all covered in goblin fruit juice. Laura kisses the juice off her sister's
cheeks and is miraculously, but painfully, healed.

Years later, Laura and Lizzie are both wives and mothers, and they describe their experience in
the goblin market to their own children as a cautionary tale about the importance of sisterly love.

GOBLIN MARKET: TEXT OF THE POEM Dates and sharp bullaces,

Rare pears and greengages,
Maids heard the goblins cry: Damsons and bilberries,
"Come buy our orchard fruits, Taste them and try:
Come buy, come buy: Currants and gooseberries,
Apples and quinces, Bright-fire-like barberries,
Lemons and oranges, Figs to fill your mouth,
Plump unpeck'd cherries, Citrons from the South,
Melons and raspberries, Sweet to tongue and sound to eye;
Bloom-down-cheek'd peaches, Come buy, come buy."
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries, Evening by evening
Crab-apples, dewberries, Among the brookside rushes,
Pine-apples, blackberries, Laura bow'd her head to hear,
Apricots, strawberries; - Lizzie veil'd her blushes:
All ripe together Crouching close together
In summer weather, - In the cooling weather,
Morns that pass by, With clasping arms and cautioning lips,
Fair eves that fly; With tingling cheeks and finger tips.
Come buy, come buy: "Lie close," Laura said,
Our grapes fresh from the vine, Pricking up her golden head:
Pomegranates full and fine,
"We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots?"
"Come buy," call the goblins
Hobbling down the glen.
"Oh," cried Lizzie, "Laura, Laura,
You should not peep at goblin men."
Lizzie cover'd up her eyes,
Cover'd close lest they should look;
Laura rear'd her glossy head,
And whisper'd like the restless brook:
"Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie,
Down the glen tramp little men.
One hauls a basket,
One bears a plate,
One lugs a golden dish
Of many pounds weight.
How fair the vine must grow
Whose grapes are so luscious;
How warm the wind must blow
Through those fruit bushes."
"No," said Lizzie, "No, no, no;
Their offers should not charm us,
Their evil gifts would harm us."
She thrust a dimpled finger
In each ear, shut eyes and ran:
Curious Laura chose to linger
Wondering at each merchant man.
One had a cat's face,
One whisk'd a tail,
One tramp'd at a rat's pace,
One crawl'd like a snail,
One like a wombat prowl'd obtuse and
furry,
One like a ratel tumbled hurry skurry.
She heard a voice like voice of doves
Cooing all together:
They sounded kind and full of loves
In the pleasant weather.
Laura stretch'd her gleaming neck
Like a rush-imbedded swan,
Like a lily from the beck,
Like a moonlit poplar branch,
Like a vessel at the launch
When its last restraint is gone.
Backwards up the mossy glen
Turn'd and troop'd the goblin men,
With their shrill repeated cry,
"Come buy, come buy."
When they reach'd where Laura was
They stood stock still upon the moss,
Leering at each other,
Brother with queer brother;
Signalling each other,
Brother with sly brother.
One set his basket down,
One rear'd his plate;
One began to weave a crown
Of tendrils, leaves, and rough nuts brown
(Men sell not such in any town);
One heav'd the golden weight
Of dish and fruit to offer her:
"Come buy, come buy," was still their cry.
Laura stared but did not stir,
Long'd but had no money:
The whisk-tail'd merchant bade her taste
In tones as smooth as honey,
The cat-faced purr'd,
The rat-faced spoke a word
Of welcome, and the snail-paced even was
heard;
One parrot-voiced and jolly
Cried "Pretty Goblin" still for "Pretty Polly;"
-
One whistled like a bird.
But sweet-tooth Laura spoke in haste:
"Good folk, I have no coin;
To take were to purloin:
I have no copper in my purse,
I have no silver either,
And all my gold is on the furze
That shakes in windy weather
Above the rusty heather."
"You have much gold upon your head,"
They answer'd all together:
"Buy from us with a golden curl."
She clipp'd a precious golden lock,
She dropp'd a tear more rare than pearl,
Then suck'd their fruit globes fair or red:
Sweeter than honey from the rock,
Stronger than man-rejoicing wine,
Clearer than water flow'd that juice;
She never tasted such before,
How should it cloy with length of use?
She suck'd and suck'd and suck'd the more
Fruits which that unknown orchard bore;
She suck'd until her lips were sore;
Then flung the emptied rinds away
But gather'd up one kernel stone,
And knew not was it night or day
As she turn'd home alone.
Lizzie met her at the gate
Full of wise upbraidings:
"Dear, you should not stay so late,
Twilight is not good for maidens;
Should not loiter in the glen
In the haunts of goblin men.
Do you not remember Jeanie,
How she met them in the moonlight,
Took their gifts both choice and many,
Ate their fruits and wore their flowers
Pluck'd from bowers
Where summer ripens at all hours?
But ever in the noonlight
She pined and pined away;
Sought them by night and day,
Found them no more, but dwindled and
grew grey;
Then fell with the first snow,
While to this day no grass will grow
Where she lies low:
I planted daisies there a year ago
That never blow.
You should not loiter so."
"Nay, hush," said Laura:
"Nay, hush, my sister:
I ate and ate my fill,
Yet my mouth waters still;
To-morrow night I will
Buy more;" and kiss'd her:
"Have done with sorrow;
I'll bring you plums to-morrow
Fresh on their mother twigs,
Cherries worth getting;
You cannot think what figs
My teeth have met in,
What melons icy-cold
Piled on a dish of gold
Too huge for me to hold,
What peaches with a velvet nap,
Pellucid grapes without one seed:
Odorous indeed must be the mead
Whereon they grow, and pure the wave
they drink
With lilies at the brink,
And sugar-sweet their sap."
Golden head by golden head,
Like two pigeons in one nest
Folded in each other's wings,
They lay down in their curtain'd bed:
Like two blossoms on one stem,
Like two flakes of new-fall'n snow,
Like two wands of ivory
Tipp'd with gold for awful kings.
Moon and stars gaz'd in at them,
Wind sang to them lullaby,
Lumbering owls forbore to fly,
Not a bat flapp'd to and fro
Round their rest:
Cheek to cheek and breast to breast
Lock'd together in one nest.
Early in the morning
When the first cock crow'd his warning,
Neat like bees, as sweet and busy,
Laura rose with Lizzie:
Fetch'd in honey, milk'd the cows,
Air'd and set to rights the house,
Kneaded cakes of whitest wheat,
Cakes for dainty mouths to eat,
Next churn'd butter, whipp'd up cream,
Fed their poultry, sat and sew'd;
Talk'd as modest maidens should:
Lizzie with an open heart,
Laura in an absent dream,
One content, one sick in part;
One warbling for the mere bright day's
delight,
One longing for the night.
At length slow evening came:
They went with pitchers to the reedy
brook;
Lizzie most placid in her look,
Laura most like a leaping flame.
They drew the gurgling water from its
deep;
Lizzie pluck'd purple and rich golden flags,
Then turning homeward said: "The sunset
flushes
Those furthest loftiest crags;
Come, Laura, not another maiden lags.
No wilful squirrel wags,
The beasts and birds are fast asleep."
But Laura loiter'd still among the rushes
And said the bank was steep.
And said the hour was early still
The dew not fall'n, the wind not chill;
Listening ever, but not catching
The customary cry,
"Come buy, come buy,"
With its iterated jingle
Of sugar-baited words:
Not for all her watching
Once discerning even one goblin
Racing, whisking, tumbling, hobbling;
Let alone the herds
That used to tramp along the glen,
In groups or single,
Of brisk fruit-merchant men.
Till Lizzie urged, "O Laura, come;
I hear the fruit-call but I dare not look:
You should not loiter longer at this brook:
Come with me home.
The stars rise, the moon bends her arc,
Each glowworm winks her spark,
Let us get home before the night grows
dark:
For clouds may gather
Though this is summer weather,
Put out the lights and drench us through;
Then if we lost our way what should we
do?"
Laura turn'd cold as stone
To find her sister heard that cry alone,
That goblin cry,
"Come buy our fruits, come buy."
Must she then buy no more such dainty
fruit?
Must she no more such succous pasture
find,
Gone deaf and blind?
Her tree of life droop'd from the root:
She said not one word in her heart's sore
ache;
But peering thro' the dimness, nought
discerning,
Trudg'd home, her pitcher dripping all the
way;
So crept to bed, and lay
Silent till Lizzie slept;
Then sat up in a passionate yearning,
And gnash'd her teeth for baulk'd desire,
and wept
As if her heart would break.
Day after day, night after night,
Laura kept watch in vain
In sullen silence of exceeding pain.
She never caught again the goblin cry:
"Come buy, come buy;" -
She never spied the goblin men
Hawking their fruits along the glen:
But when the noon wax'd bright
Her hair grew thin and grey;
She dwindled, as the fair full moon doth
turn
To swift decay and burn
Her fire away.
One day remembering her kernel-stone
She set it by a wall that faced the south;
Dew'd it with tears, hoped for a root,
Watch'd for a waxing shoot,
But there came none;
It never saw the sun,
It never felt the trickling moisture run:
While with sunk eyes and faded mouth
She dream'd of melons, as a traveller sees
False waves in desert drouth
With shade of leaf-crown'd trees,
And burns the thirstier in the sandful
breeze.
She no more swept the house,
Tended the fowls or cows,
Fetch'd honey, kneaded cakes of wheat,
Brought water from the brook:
But sat down listless in the chimney-nook
And would not eat.
Tender Lizzie could not bear
To watch her sister's cankerous care
Yet not to share.
She night and morning
Caught the goblins' cry:
"Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy;" -
Beside the brook, along the glen,
She heard the tramp of goblin men,
The yoke and stir
Poor Laura could not hear;
Long'd to buy fruit to comfort her,
But fear'd to pay too dear.
She thought of Jeanie in her grave,
Who should have been a bride;
But who for joys brides hope to have
Fell sick and died
In her gay prime,
In earliest winter time
With the first glazing rime,
With the first snow-fall of crisp winter
time.
Till Laura dwindling
Seem'd knocking at Death's door:
Then Lizzie weigh'd no more
Better and worse;
But put a silver penny in her purse,
Kiss'd Laura, cross'd the heath with clumps
of furze
At twilight, halted by the brook:
And for the first time in her life
Began to listen and look.
Laugh'd every goblin
When they spied her peeping:
Came towards her hobbling,
Flying, running, leaping,
Puffing and blowing,
Chuckling, clapping, crowing,
Clucking and gobbling,
Mopping and mowing,
Full of airs and graces,
Pulling wry faces,
Demure grimaces,
Cat-like and rat-like,
Ratel- and wombat-like,
Snail-paced in a hurry,
Parrot-voiced and whistler,
Helter skelter, hurry skurry,
Chattering like magpies,
Fluttering like pigeons,
Gliding like fishes, -
Hugg'd her and kiss'd her:
Squeez'd and caress'd her:
Stretch'd up their dishes,
Panniers, and plates:
"Look at our apples
Russet and dun,
Bob at our cherries,
Bite at our peaches,
Citrons and dates,
Grapes for the asking,
Pears red with basking
Out in the sun,
Plums on their twigs;
Pluck them and suck them,
Pomegranates, figs." -
"Good folk," said Lizzie,
Mindful of Jeanie:
"Give me much and many: -
Held out her apron,
Toss'd them her penny.
"Nay, take a seat with us,
Honour and eat with us,"
They answer'd grinning:
"Our feast is but beginning.
Night yet is early,
Warm and dew-pearly,
Wakeful and starry:
Such fruits as these
No man can carry:
Half their bloom would fly,
Half their dew would dry,
Half their flavour would pass by.
Sit down and feast with us,
Be welcome guest with us,
Cheer you and rest with us." -
"Thank you," said Lizzie: "But one waits
At home alone for me:
So without further parleying,
If you will not sell me any
Of your fruits though much and many,
Give me back my silver penny
I toss'd you for a fee." -
They began to scratch their pates,
No longer wagging, purring,
But visibly demurring,
Grunting and snarling.
One call'd her proud,
Cross-grain'd, uncivil;
Their tones wax'd loud,
Their look were evil.
Lashing their tails
They trod and hustled her,
Elbow'd and jostled her,
Claw'd with their nails,
Barking, mewing, hissing, mocking,
Tore her gown and soil'd her stocking,
Twitch'd her hair out by the roots,
Stamp'd upon her tender feet,
Held her hands and squeez'd their fruits
Against her mouth to make her eat.
White and golden Lizzie stood,
Like a lily in a flood, -
Like a rock of blue-vein'd stone
Lash'd by tides obstreperously, -
Like a beacon left alone
In a hoary roaring sea,
Sending up a golden fire, -
Like a fruit-crown'd orange-tree
White with blossoms honey-sweet
Sore beset by wasp and bee, -
Like a royal virgin town
Topp'd with gilded dome and spire
Close beleaguer'd by a fleet
Mad to tug her standard down.
One may lead a horse to water,
Twenty cannot make him drink.
Though the goblins cuff'd and caught her,
Coax'd and fought her,
Bullied and besought her,
Scratch'd her, pinch'd her black as ink,
Kick'd and knock'd her,
Maul'd and mock'd her,
Lizzie utter'd not a word;
Would not open lip from lip
Lest they should cram a mouthful in:
But laugh'd in heart to feel the drip
Of juice that syrupp'd all her face,
And lodg'd in dimples of her chin,
And streak'd her neck which quaked like
curd.
At last the evil people,
Worn out by her resistance,
Flung back her penny, kick'd their fruit
Along whichever road they took,
Not leaving root or stone or shoot;
Some writh'd into the ground,
Some div'd into the brook
With ring and ripple,
Some scudded on the gale without a sound,
Some vanish'd in the distance.
In a smart, ache, tingle,
Lizzie went her way;
Knew not was it night or day;
Sprang up the bank, tore thro' the furze,
Threaded copse and dingle,
And heard her penny jingle
Bouncing in her purse, -
Its bounce was music to her ear.
She ran and ran
As if she fear'd some goblin man
Dogg'd her with gibe or curse
Or something worse:
But not one goblin scurried after,
Nor was she prick'd by fear;
The kind heart made her windy-paced
That urged her home quite out of breath
with haste
And inward laughter.
She cried, "Laura," up the garden,
"Did you miss me?
Come and kiss me.
Never mind my bruises,
Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices
Squeez'd from goblin fruits for you,
Goblin pulp and goblin dew.
Eat me, drink me, love me;
Laura, make much of me;
For your sake I have braved the glen
And had to do with goblin merchant men."
Laura started from her chair,
Flung her arms up in the air,
Clutch'd her hair:
"Lizzie, Lizzie, have you tasted
For my sake the fruit forbidden?
Must your light like mine be hidden,
Your young life like mine be wasted,
Undone in mine undoing,
And ruin'd in my ruin,
Thirsty, canker'd, goblin-ridden?" -
She clung about her sister,
Kiss'd and kiss'd and kiss'd her:
Tears once again
Refresh'd her shrunken eyes,
Dropping like rain
After long sultry drouth;
Shaking with aguish fear, and pain,
She kiss'd and kiss'd her with a hungry
mouth.
Her lips began to scorch,
That juice was wormwood to her tongue,
She loath'd the feast:
Writhing as one possess'd she leap'd and
sung,
Rent all her robe, and wrung
Her hands in lamentable haste,
And beat her breast.
Her locks stream'd like the torch
Borne by a racer at full speed,
Or like the mane of horses in their flight,
Or like an eagle when she stems the light
Straight toward the sun,
Or like a caged thing freed,
Or like a flying flag when armies run.
Swift fire spread through her veins, knock'd
at her heart,
Met the fire smouldering there
And overbore its lesser flame;
She gorged on bitterness without a name:
Ah! fool, to choose such part
Of soul-consuming care!
Sense fail'd in the mortal strife:
Like the watch-tower of a town
Which an earthquake shatters down,
Like a lightning-stricken mast,
Like a wind-uprooted tree
Spun about,
Like a foam-topp'd waterspout
Cast down headlong in the sea,
She fell at last;
Pleasure past and anguish past,
Is it death or is it life?
Life out of death.
That night long Lizzie watch'd by her,
Counted her pulse's flagging stir,
Felt for her breath,
Held water to her lips, and cool'd her face
With tears and fanning leaves:
But when the first birds chirp'd about their
eaves,
And early reapers plodded to the place
Of golden sheaves,
And dew-wet grass
Bow'd in the morning winds so brisk to
pass,
And new buds with new day
Open'd of cup-like lilies on the stream,
Laura awoke as from a dream,
Laugh'd in the innocent old way,
Hugg'd Lizzie but not twice or thrice;
Her gleaming locks show'd not one thread
of grey,
Her breath was sweet as May
And light danced in her eyes.
Days, weeks, months, years
Afterwards, when both were wives
With children of their own;
Their mother-hearts beset with fears,
Their lives bound up in tender lives;
Laura would call the little ones
And tell them of her early prime,
Those pleasant days long gone
Of not-returning time:
Would talk about the haunted glen,
The wicked, quaint fruit-merchant men,
Their fruits like honey to the throat
But poison in the blood;
(Men sell not such in any town):
Would tell them how her sister stood
In deadly peril to do her good,
And win the fiery antidote:
Then joining hands to little hands
Would bid them cling together,
"For there is no friend like a sister
In calm or stormy weather;
To cheer one on the tedious way,
To fetch one if one goes astray,
To lift one if one totters down,
To strengthen whilst one stands."
Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)
When I am dead, my dearest
1When I am dead, my dearest,
2 Sing no sad songs for me;
3Plant thou no roses at my head,
4 Nor shady cypress tree:
5Be the green grass above me
6 With showers and dewdrops wet;
7And if thou wilt, remember,
 8 And if thou wilt, forget.

9I shall not see the shadows,

10 I shall not feel the rain;

11I shall not hear the nightingale

12 Sing on, as if in pain:

13And dreaming through the twilight

14 That doth not rise nor set,

15Haply I may remember,

16 And haply may forget.

A summary of a classic Rossetti poem

Christina Rossetti (1830-94) was one of the leading female poets of the Victorian era. Her
‘Song’, beginning ‘When I am dead, my dearest’, remains one of her best-loved poems. In this
post we offer a short summary and analysis of ‘When I am dead, my dearest’ (as it’s
sometimes known), paying particular attention to its language and meaning.
‘Song’ (or ‘When I am dead, my dearest’, if you prefer) was written in 1848 when Christina
Rossetti was still a teenager, but not published until 1862 when it appeared in her first
volume of poetry, Goblin Market and Other Poems. The poem is a variation on the theme
of John Donne’s ‘A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning’, and provides a neat complement to
another of Christina Rossetti’s early poems, the sonnet ‘Remember’, which she wrote a year
after ‘When I am dead, my dearest’.

A brief summary of Rossetti’s ‘Song’, then. In the first stanza the speaker asks her beloved
that when she dies, he doesn’t sing any sad songs for her, or put flowers or plant a tree on
her grave. The grass on her grave, showered by rain and morning dew, will be enough – and if
he does remember her, that’s fine, but if he forgets her, so be it.

In the second stanza, the speaker explains why she isn’t fussed about what her beloved does
to remember her after she has died: she will not be there to see the shadows or feel the rain,
or hear the nightingale singing; after death, she will be ‘dreaming’, and sleeping, through a
perpetual ‘twilight’, and she may remember him, but she may not.
This poem seems like a very simple little song upon first reading, but some of the implications
it subtly raises are not so straightforward once we embark upon a closer analysis of ‘When I
am dead, my dearest’. Take that ending, for instance: Christina Rossetti implies, through
stating that she may not remember her beloved after she has died, that there may be no
afterlife, and that she may not be capable of remembering him. ‘Haply’, the word Rossetti
uses twice at the end of the poem, is not quite the same as ‘happily’: it means ‘by chance’
or, if you will, ‘perhaps’. Rossetti seems to be unsure. She rejects the glib message of
Christianity which reassures us that there will be an afterlife to go to, and that when we die
we will be able to ‘look down on’ those we love and ‘watch over’ them (assuming we go to
heaven rather than the other day); but Rossetti seems less sure of this. Indeed, the poem’s
very message – asking that her beloved not seek to remember her in all of the usual
conventional ways a lover was expected to: placing flowers on the grave, singing sad songs.
Even the tears of mourning are absent from Rossetti’s poem: instead, nature will provide the
‘tears’ on her grave, in the form of the ‘showers and dewdrops wet’, but these are forces of
nature and so don’t weep in mourning for her – they would be there anyway.

Similarly, the request that her beloved ‘Sing no sad songs for me’ is echoed in the second
stanza by the reference to the ‘nightingale / Sing[ing] on, as if in pain’. The nightingale, in a
story from Greek myth which Christina Rossetti knew well, is linked to the tragic story of
Philomela, a woman who was raped by her brother-in-law and turned into a nightingale when
the gods took pity on her – this is supposedly why the bird sings ‘as if in pain’. But this is a
story, nothing more: Rossetti knows that the nightingale sings the way it does because we, as
humans, hear its song as sorrowful and full of tragedy – we impute this human feeling (a
version of the pathetic fallacy) onto the bird’s song.

‘When I am dead, my dearest’ is a remarkably accomplished song for Christina Rossetti to

have written while still in her teens. It also repays closer analysis because of its departure
from the sort of funereal dirges and songs of remembrance we associate with Victorian
poetry. Rossetti’s ‘Song’, unlike the nightingale’s in the Greek story, is unusually stoic and
free from tragic self-pity or sorrow. We see in this poem the quality that Philip Larkin so
admired in Christina Rossetti: her ‘steely stoicism’.

Jane Austen

Jane Austen (1775-1817), one of England’s foremost novelists, was never publicly
acknowledged as a writer during her lifetime.

Austen was born on December 16, 1775, at Steventon Rectory in Hampshire, the seventh child
of a country clergyman and his wife, George and Cassandra Austen. Her closest friend was her
only sister, Cassandra, almost three years her senior.

Her father, her brothers James and Henry, and four cousins were clergymen. She lived with
her family in the parish rectory at Steventon until she was 25 years old.

The English churches listed below have ties to Jane Austen or her family. For Janeites taking
an armchair tour of the churches or planning a trip to England, we offer brief summaries of
each church's Austen ties as well as links to a location map and the church website. For
JASNA members who would like to know how donations to the Austen-related churches have
been used, we also note which have received a grant from JASNA to help fund projects.

The Historical Context of Pride and Prejudice

War with France
Stretching over twenty-two years, Britain’s war with France affected every level of British
society. While an estimated quarter of a million men were serving in the regular army, a
militia of officers and volunteers in the southeast coast of England (the region where Austen
was from) mobilized for what was thought to be an impending invasion by Napoleon. Austen
had a close connection to the militia, as her brother Henry joined the Oxfordshire militia in
1793. Though the rural countryside in which Austen’s novels are set seems at a far remove
from the tumultuousness of the period, the world of Pride and Prejudice bears the traces of
turmoil abroad. As Gillian Russell writes, “The hum of wartime, if not the blast or cry of
battle, pervades [Austen’s] fiction.”[1] The presence of the troops at Brighton and militia
officers like Wickham reflect wider concerns about the place of the military in English civil
society.
The Landed Gentry
The novel is also embedded within a set of domestic concerns over property, money and
status that highlight the changing social landscape of late eighteenth and early nineteenth-
century England. Austen’s novels portray the gentry, a broad social class that includes those
who owned land (the country or landed gentry) as well as the professional classes (lawyers,
doctors and clergy) who did not. Though industrialization and urbanization had begun to take
hold at the end of the eighteenth century, the most influential sector of society in Austen’s
time was the landed gentry. Throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, ownership
of English land was concentrated in the hands of the relatively small landed classes, who
retained their hold over the land through a system that encouraged the consolidation and
extension of estates by enforcing strict inheritance laws. Entails of the kind referred to in the
novel were established during this period in order to concentrate wealth and enlarge estates
by funneling property to male children or male relatives rather than breaking it up and
distributing it amongst family members. Thus, Mr. Bennett’s land is left not to his daughters
but to a (male) member of his extended family, Mr. Collins, ensuring that the property stays
in the family line, while disinheriting Elizabeth and her sisters. Large country estates, of the
kind Darcy owns and Mr. Bingley desires to purchase, served as a symbol of the wealth and
power of the landed gentry.
Marriage and Gender Roles
As we see in the novel, questions of land ownership and inheritance are closely interlinked
with courtship and marriage. In the late eighteenth century, English conceptions of family and
the role of women began to change, as British culture became increasingly focused on the
accumulation and concentration of wealth within the family. One way for families to rapidly
accumulate capital was through advantageous marriages. As a result, the position of
daughters within the family changed, as they became the means through which a family could
attain greater wealth. Familial aspirations, coupled with women’s increased dependence on
marriage for financial survival, made courtship a central focus of women’s lives.
At the same time, the late eighteenth century also witnessed a transformation in the
conception of women’s rights following the publication of Mary Wollstonecraft’s Vindication
of the Rights of Woman in 1792. In the Vindication, Wollstonecraft argues, in the language of
Enlightenment thinkers like John Locke, that women should be treated as the rational equals
of men. Elizabeth Bennett serves as a paradigmatic example of the conflicting
transformations in women’s roles that occurred in the late eighteenth century. Disinherited of
her father’s property, Elizabeth is not financially independent, and in fact depends upon an
advantageous marriage for her future survival. Yet throughout the novel, she asserts an
intellectual and moral independence that reflects a Wollstoncraftian conception of gender
politics.
Print Culture and the Novel in Austen’s Time
One particularly significant change that occurred during Austen’s lifetime was the expansion
of literacy and print culture in England. By 1800, almost everyone in the middle classes and
above could read, and literacy rates for the rest of the population rose steadily thereafter. At
the same time, from 1780 onwards there was a fairly steady rise in the number of new novels
being published, so that by the end of Austen’s life, the novel was the dominant form of
literature in England. In part, the rise of the novel was spurred on by new forms of printing
and marketing, which made books less expensive and expanded their readership. Smaller
format books—octavos and duodecimos, as opposed to quartos—were more portable, and
therefore easier to consume. Similarly, novels became more readily accessible through the
expansion of various modes of access, including circulating and subscription libraries as well
as periodicals, which made literature affordable in a time when books were often
prohibitively expensive. Nevertheless, novels of the kind Austen published would have been
an unaffordable luxury for a great deal of the population. This was particularly true in the
earlier part of the nineteenth century, when “taxes on knowledge” raised prices on paper,
newspapers, advertisements, and other texts. These taxes were in fact at their height during
Austen’s career. This was in part because of a desire to limit access to information for the
lower classes in response to revolution in France and upheaval at home. Though the late
eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries marked an explosion in novel reading and the
production of the novels themselves, the widely affordable novel would not become
ubiquitous until the middle of the nineteenth century.
The realist novel, defined by its putatively objective narrator, psychologically developed
characters, and minute description of the realities of domestic life, was in part inaugurated
by Austen in Pride and Prejudice, and would come to dominate the literary scene in England
throughout the rest of the nineteenth century. The rise of the novel has historically been
linked to the rise of the middle class in England from the eighteenth century onwards,
because this expanding social class (and middle class women in particular) had both the
income and the leisure time available to consume them. Although novels were widely read,
throughout the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, they were largely considered
unserious, frivolous, and even irrelevant—a merely “popular” genre.
Get out the microscope, because we’re going through this poem line-by-line.

Lines 1-4
MORNING and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry:
"Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:

 We learn in the first two lines that the "goblin market" is open for business all the time –
both "morning and evening."

 It's also interesting that "maids," or unmarried women, are the ones who hear the "cries"
of the goblin fruit sellers. Do men not hear the goblins? What about married women?

 The repeated "cry" of the goblin men sure would get annoying after a while.

Lines 5-16
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpeck'd cherries,
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheek'd peaches,
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,
Crab-apples, dewberries,
Pine-apples, blackberries,
Apricots, strawberries; -
All ripe together
In summer weather, -

 The goblin men list all kinds of fruit they have for sale.

 There are a few unusual kinds of fruit listed, so we'll point those out.

 "Quinces" are a fruit from the eastern Mediterranean that look kind of like pears, but are
too sour to eat unless they're cooked.

 "Unpecked cherries" are just cherries that birds haven't "pecked" at. They're fresh and
perfect.

 "Bloom-down-cheeked peaches" are peaches that are fresh and covered in peach fuzz.

 "Mulberries" are a kind of fruit native to warm and sub-tropical places.

 "Crab-apples" are just a kind of small, tart apple.

 "Dewberries" are like small blackberries.

 It might not strike you as odd that the goblins have "pine-apples," "strawberries,"
"apples," and citrus fruit all at the same market, at the same time, but for 19th -century
readers, this would seem like crazy-talk. After all, pineapples and citrus fruit require
warm climates and would need to be imported to England. We might be able to walk into
a grocery store and find all of these fruits in the same produce section at any time of the
year, but it just wasn't possible in the 19th century.
  Not only do the goblins have fruit from all different climates at their market, they have
fruit that usually ripen in different seasons. "Apples," for example are usually ripe in the
fall, while strawberries are ready in the early summer.

 But all of these fruits are ready at the same time, "in summer weather."

Lines 17-24
Morns that pass by,
Fair eves that fly;
Come buy, come buy:
Our grapes fresh from the vine,
Pomegranates full and fine,
Dates and sharp bullaces,
Rare pears and greengages,
Damsons and bilberries,

 The "morning and evening" mentioned in the first line of the poem are brought up again
here –the goblin men mention the passing of "morns," or mornings," and beautiful
"eves." They're saying, "time flies, so come buy our fruit."

 Then the goblin men launch into another list of fruits at their market. Again, some of the
varieties are unusual, so we'll pause to point out the odd ones…

 "Pomegranates" are a kind of Mediterranean fruit with lots of edible, juicy red seeds
inside a tough rind.

 "Dates" are the fruit from the date palm tree.

 "Bullaces," "greengages," and "Damsons" are different varieties of plum.

 "Bilberries" are similar to blueberries, and are sometimes called European blueberries.

 Then the goblins stop their list again to invite anyone who's listening (the "maids"
mentioned in line 2, probably), to "taste them and try."

Lines 25-31
Taste them and try:
Currants and gooseberries,
Bright-fire-like barberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the South,
Sweet to tongue and sound to eye;
Come buy, come buy."

 Now it's back to listing fruit. Is anyone else exhausted by the choices here? It's like going
to a gourmet supermarket – the choice is overwhelming. But back to pointing out the
unusual fruit –bear with us as we complete the tour of the goblin produce section—we're
almost through.
  "Gooseberries" are usually green, and look kind of like hairy grapes. They're good for
jam.

 "Barberries" are a dark red berry (which is why they're described as "bright-fire-like"
here).

 "Citrons" are – you guessed it – a kind of citrus fruit. And they come from the South with
a capital "S," which basically just means anywhere south of England where citrus could
grow.

 (Citron also means "lemon" in French.)

 The goblin men assure the "maids" (or anyone who is still listening) that their fruit is
sweet and "sound," or healthy – at least, "to the eye." Does that mean that the fruit could
be rotten in the middle?

 But the goblin fruit sellers aren't taking questions about their overwhelming as

Lines 32-39
Evening by evening
Among the brookside rushes,
Laura bow'd her head to hear,
Lizzie veil'd her blushes:
Crouching close together
In the cooling weather,
With clasping arms and cautioning lips,
With tingling cheeks and finger tips.

 Every evening, Laura and Lizzie sit together next to a stream or a brook ("among the
brookside rushes"), enjoying the "cooling weather" after the heat of the day.

 But something embarrasses them: Laura "bows her head" when she hears them, and
Lizzie "blushes."

 It's not clear whether Laura "bows her head" in order "to hear" the goblin men more
clearly, or whether hearing them embarrasses her, so she bows her head when she
hears them. The line could be read either way.

 Both of the girls "clasp" each other closely and "caution" each other. It's not clear what
they're cautioning each other about, yet.

 They both have "tingling cheeks" as they hear the goblin men calling. Why does the
sound of a fruit market make them so uncomfortable?

 We're also told that their "finger tips" are "tingling" – is that because their fingers are
"itching" to grab some fruit? It's not clear.

Lines 40-47
"Lie close," Laura said,
Pricking up her golden head:
"We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots?"
"Come buy," call the goblins
Hobbling down the glen.

 Laura asks Lizzie to lie closer to her, and then "prick[s]" up her head.

 But even as she perks up, she warns Lizzie that they shouldn't even look at the goblins,
let alone buy their fruit, because who knows where the fruit came from?

 Describing the fruit as having "hungry thirsty roots" makes it sound scary, like something
from a bad horror movie.

 The goblins just call for them to "come buy" again as they go past down the "glen," or
narrow valley.

Lines 48-63
"Oh," cried Lizzie, "Laura, Laura,
You should not peep at goblin men."
Lizzie cover'd up her eyes,
Cover'd close lest they should look;
Laura rear'd her glossy head,
And whisper'd like the restless brook:
"Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie,
Down the glen tramp little men.
One hauls a basket,
One bears a plate,
One lugs a golden dish
Of many pounds weight.
How fair the vine must grow
Whose grapes are so luscious;
How warm the wind must blow
Through those fruit bushes."

 Lizzie warns Laura not to sneak peeks at the goblin men, and covers her own eyes
tightly.

 Lizzie covers her eyes "lest they should look," which sounds odd – as though her eyes
might try to peek without her permission. She must really be deeply tempted to look at
the goblins.

 But Laura doesn't pay attention. She keeps looking and gives Lizzie a whispered
description of what she sees.
  The "little men" are heading down the valley – each of them carrying some kind of
container for the fruit.

 One of them is even carrying a heavy "golden dish."

 Laura is amazed by the sight of the goblin men and their fruit. She remarks on how
"luscious" the grapes look, and thinks about how "warm the wind" must be where the
grapes are grown to get them so fat and juicy.

Lines 64-80
"No," said Lizzie, "No, no, no;
Their offers should not charm us,
Their evil gifts would harm us."
She thrust a dimpled finger
In each ear, shut eyes and ran:
Curious Laura chose to linger
Wondering at each merchant man.
One had a cat's face,
One whisk'd a tail,
One tramp'd at a rat's pace,
One crawl'd like a snail,
One like a wombat prowl'd obtuse and furry,
One like a ratel tumbled hurry skurry.
She heard a voice like voice of doves
Cooing all together:
They sounded kind and full of loves
In the pleasant weather.

 Lizzie doesn't want to hear about the "luscious" grapes or anything else. She refuses to
listen over and over again.

 She warns Laura that the goblin's "gifts" are "evil."

 Then Lizzie sticks her fingers in her ears so that she won't be able to hear her sister's
descriptions or the goblins' calls, and runs away with her eyes shut. Don't try this at
home, you'll probably run into something.

 Meanwhile, Laura stays by the side of the stream to watch the procession of the goblins.

 She's described as "curious" and "wondering." She just wants to see more of them.

 Before, she described the goblins as "little men," but now the description gets pretty
wacky. According to Laura, they all have body parts like different animals.

 And some of those animals come from places far from England. The "wombat" is a
marsupial from Australia. "Obtuse" is an odd way of describing a wombat. Are wombats
particularly "obtuse," or dull and stupid?

 A "ratel" is an animal from South Africa that looks like a badger.

  None of them is the same. Notice how lines 71-76 all start with the word "one"? Each of
the goblins is unique.

 Even their voices sound like different animals, but at least it sounds pleasant. Laura
even thinks that their "dove"-like voice sounds "full of loves."

Lines 81-86
Laura stretch'd her gleaming neck
Like a rush-imbedded swan,
Like a lily from the beck,
Like a moonlit poplar branch,
Like a vessel at the launch
When its last restraint is gone.

 Laura is craning her neck to see the goblin men better, and the poet compares her to a
swan leaning out of the rushes in a stream.

 Then she is compared to a lily that leans over a "beck" or a brook.

 Then she's compared to a delicate kind of tree branch on a "moonlit" night.

 Finally, she's compared to a ship that's just leaving dock. The ship starts to move
forward when the anchor is pulled up and all the lines are in.

 The stanza ends with the words, "when its last restraint is gone." This phrase refers to
the ship that Laura is being compared to. It literally means that the anchor is up and the
ship is untied and ready to go. But this line could also suggest that Laura's guard is
down – she's unrestrained. Anything could happen.

Lines 87-90
Backwards up the mossy glen
Turn'd and troop'd the goblin men,
With their shrill repeated cry,
"Come buy, come buy."

 The "goblin men" turn around and come back up the valley. They must realize that
Laura's checking them out. Maybe they can sense that there's a potential sale to be
made here.

 They keep crying out their tired old sales pitch: "Come buy! Come buy!"

Lines 91-96
When they reach'd where Laura was
They stood stock still upon the moss,
Leering at each other,
Brother with queer brother;
Signalling each other,
Brother with sly brother.
  When they get back to where Laura is, the goblins stop and "leer," or glance sideways,
at each other.

 They're described as "brothers," but don't assume that they're related by blood. As in
HBO's Band of Brothers, they're just all part of the same band.

 In line 94, "queer" means "suspiciously odd."

 The goblins sneakily "signal" to each other.

 They're described as "brothers," again. This time as "sly brother[s]." The repetition
underlines the fact that they're all members of one group, while Laura is isolated and
alone. Even her own sister, Lizzie, isn't around.

Lines 97-104
One set his basket down,
One rear'd his plate;
One began to weave a crown
Of tendrils, leaves, and rough nuts brown
(Men sell not such in any town);
One heav'd the golden weight
Of dish and fruit to offer her:
"Come buy, come buy," was still their cry.

 After "signaling each other," the goblins all leap to action, and they all seem to have
different, pre-arranged tasks. It seems like they've done this before.

 The uniqueness of the individual goblins is emphasized again: like in lines 71-76, lines
97-102 begin with "One" – "one" goblin did this, and "one" did that. They all have
different jobs.

 One of them "rears," or holds up his "plate," probably to show off the fruit on it for Laura.

 Another goblin starts to "weave a crown" for her out of branches of nuts.

 Line 101 is in parentheses – it's as though the poet is telling us, just by the way, that the
kind of nuts the goblins are using are really uncommon. This seems important, but like a
lot of the details in the poem, the meaning isn't clear.

 Another goblin hefts up a heavy golden dish full of fruit to offer her.

 They're all still "cry[ing]" in unison, "come buy! Come buy!"

 This might seem creepy, but Laura clearly has not seen as many horror movies as we
have, so she doesn't know that this would be a great moment to turn and run.

Lines 105-106
Laura stared but did not stir,
Long'd but had no money:

 Laura would love to reach for the fruit, but she doesn't "stir" from where she is because
she's strapped for cash.

 The repeated "buts" in these two lines help to emphasize the contrast between what
Laura desires, and what she can actually have.

Lines 107-114
The whisk-tail'd merchant bade her taste
In tones as smooth as honey,
The cat-faced purr'd,
The rat-faced spoke a word
Of welcome, and the snail-paced even was heard;
One parrot-voiced and jolly
Cried "Pretty Goblin" still for "Pretty Polly;" –
One whistled like a bird.

 A couple of the goblins that were described before, in lines 71-76, step up and invite
Laura to "taste" their fruits, at the very least.

 The one with a "tail" has a voice that sounds as sweet as the fruits look. We're starting to
wonder what kind of a "tail" it is – forked, perhaps, like a demon's?

 The goblins all sound like the animals they resemble.

 There's even one that sounds like a parrot, but he says "Pretty Goblin!" instead of "Pretty
Polly," or, as we usually say, "Polly wanna cracker!"

Lines 115-122
But sweet-tooth Laura spoke in haste:
"Good folk, I have no coin;
To take were to purloin:
I have no copper in my purse,
I have no silver either,
And all my gold is on the furze
That shakes in windy weather
Above the rusty heather."

 Laura doesn't want there to be any misunderstanding, so she blurts out that she doesn't
have any money, so taking any fruit would be "to purloin," or to steal.

 She says that she has neither "copper" (i.e., pennies) nor "silver" (i.e., more valuable
coins) to pay for the fruit.

 Instead of just saying, "I don't have any gold, either," she says that the only gold she has
is "on the furze," which is a kind of evergreen shrub that has gold-colored flowers.
  She politely calls the goblins "Good Folk." "Folk" is capitalized, which could be a
reference to old British myths that describe elfish, magical people as "Fair Folk" or
"Good Folk."

Lines 123-128
"You have much gold upon your head,"
They answer'd all together:
"Buy from us with a golden curl."
She clipp'd a precious golden lock,
She dropp'd a tear more rare than pearl,
Then suck'd their fruit globes fair or red:

 The goblins point out that Laura ha plenty of "gold" on her head. Her blond hair,
apparently, counts as gold money at the goblin market.

 So the goblins ask Laura to give them "a golden curl" in exchange for some fruit.

 Laura cuts a "precious golden lock," but cries while doing it.

 Just as her hair is "precious" and "golden" like a gold coin, her tear is compared to a
"rare" "pearl."

 So Laura's various body parts are being compared to different precious minerals and
gemstones.

 Having traded in that "precious golden curl," Laura starts "suck[ing]" on the goblin "fruit
globes."

Lines 129-133
Sweeter than honey from the rock,
Stronger than man-rejoicing wine,
Clearer than water flow'd that juice;
She never tasted such before,
How should it cloy with length of use?

 The goblin fruit is tasty. Laura thinks that the fruit is "sweeter than honey" and "stronger
than […] wine."

 Does that mean she's getting drunk on goblin fruit? Maybe, because she sure seems to
be getting excited about that goblin fruit.

 The fruit juice is "clearer than water." What kind of fruit has juice that's "clearer than
water"? What kind of fruit is this?

 Laura sure doesn't know – she's never tasted anything like this before.

 The poet then asks how the taste of the fruit could ever "cloy," or get old. But just by
asking the question, the poet suggests that the fruit could indeed "cloy" after a while.
Lines 134-136
She suck'd and suck'd and suck'd the more
Fruits which that unknown orchard bore;
She suck'd until her lips were sore;

 Laura keeps "suck[ing]" on the fruit the goblins give her. It's so tasty that she can't stop.

 The word "sucked" is repeated three times in line 134, possibly to emphasize that Laura
just can't bring herself to stop.

 If you think that these lines are starting to sound kind of erotic, you're not alone. It's hard
to avoid reading these lines as sexual.

 We're reminded that the fruit she's "suck[ing]" comes from an "unknown orchard." (If
you're going to go to town on fruit in a vaguely sexual way, it's best to know where that
fruit came from.)

 Laura just keeps "suck[ing]" until she's physically exhausted. Her "lips were sore."

 The repetition of her "suck[ing]" on the fruit is emphasized by the rhyme in these lines.
The rhyme scheme doesn't have a set pattern, and then suddenly three lines in a row all
have rhyming end words ("more," "bore," "sore").

Lines 137-140
Then flung the emptied rinds away
But gather'd up one kernel stone,
And knew not was it night or day
As she turn'd home alone.

 Once Laura's done with the "suck[ing]", she tosses the "rinds" and fruit cores aside,
pausing to pick up a single "kernel stone" (i.e., a seed or pit).

 Laura is so dazed that she can't tell whether it's "night or day" as she heads home by
herself. Yep, sounds like those goblin fruits were laced with something nasty.

Lines 141-146
Lizzie met her at the gate
Full of wise upbraidings:
"Dear, you should not stay so late,
Twilight is not good for maidens;
Should not loiter in the glen
In the haunts of goblin men.

 When Laura gets home, Lizzie meets her at the front gate to scold her for hanging out
with the goblins.

 Lizzie reminds her that "twilight" is a bad time for "maidens," or unmarried young
women.
  Is "twilight" less dangerous for married women and for men? That's what Lizzie seems to
be implying.

 Just as the goblin's cries were only heard by the "maids" in line 2, this line seems to
suggest that "twilight" is especially dangerous for "maidens."

Lines 147-152
Do you not remember Jeanie,
How she met them in the moonlight,
Took their gifts both choice and many,
Ate their fruits and wore their flowers
Pluck'd from bowers
Where summer ripens at all hours?

 Lizzie then reminds Laura about what happened to a girl named "Jeanie." Apparently
Jeanie listened to the goblins' calls in the "moonlight" and took their fruit as "gifts."

 Jeanie ate all the "choice" or perfect fruit that they gave her and wore the "flowers" they
had picked from the "bowers," or shady corners of a garden.

 It's interesting that she uses the word "bowers" to describe the place where those
"flowers" had been "plucked," because "bowers" can also mean a woman's private
bedroom.

 Having "flowers" "plucked" out of a woman's private bedroom sounds an awful lot like
Jeanie lost her virginity during this exchange with the goblins.

Lines 153-162
But ever in the noonlight
She pined and pined away;
Sought them by night and day,
Found them no more, but dwindled and grew grey;
Then fell with the first snow,
While to this day no grass will grow
Where she lies low:
I planted daisies there a year ago
That never blow.
You should not loiter so."

 Lizzie continues with Jeanie's story. Although she ate the goblins' fruits in the "moonlight"
(line 148), she started to "pine away" during the "noonlight."

 (Yes, "noonlight" is a made-up word; the poet probably uses it because it rhymes with
"moonlight.")

 After her fruit binge, Jeanie starts to get sick and "pine away." She looks everywhere for
the goblins and their crazy-good fruit, but can't find them, so she wastes away and ages
prematurely.
  Then she "fell," or died, at the time of the first snow.

 The word "fell" has other connotations, too. A "fallen woman" during the Victorian period
is one who has lost her sexual purity.

 Lizzie reminds Laura that even the grass won't grow on Jeanie's grave.

 Lizzie tried planting flowers on the grave, but they won't bloom.

 Lizzie wraps up her lecture by repeating that Laura shouldn't "loiter" after dark near the
goblin market unless she wants to end up like Jeanie.

Lines 163-169
"Nay, hush," said Laura:
"Nay, hush, my sister:
I ate and ate my fill,
Yet my mouth waters still;
To-morrow night I will
Buy more;" and kiss'd her:
"Have done with sorrow;

 Laura tells Lizzie not to worry. Laura tells her sister that she (Laura) ate lots of fruit and
is still hungry for more, but not to worry.

 She says that "tomorrow night" she'll go and buy more.

 It's like she's telling her sister not to worry, because she can stop anytime she wants to.

Lines 170-183
I'll bring you plums to-morrow
Fresh on their mother twigs,
Cherries worth getting;
You cannot think what figs
My teeth have met in,
What melons icy-cold
Piled on a dish of gold
Too huge for me to hold,
What peaches with a velvet nap,
Pellucid grapes without one seed:
Odorous indeed must be the mead
Whereon they grow, and pure the wave they drink
With lilies at the brink,
And sugar-sweet their sap."

 Laura starts going on and on about the fruit she tasted. She promises to bring some
back for Lizzie.
  She lists all the awesome "plums," "cherries," "figs" et cetera that she's eaten. She can't
seem to stop raving about them. Especially about the "velvet nap," or peach fuzz, on the
peaches, and the "pellucid," or translucent grapes.

 Laura wonders what kind of totally awesome place could grow such delicious fruit.

Lines 184-191
Golden head by golden head,
Like two pigeons in one nest
Folded in each other's wings,
They lay down in their curtain'd bed:
Like two blossoms on one stem,
Like two flakes of new-fall'n snow,
Like two wands of ivory
Tipp'd with gold for awful kings.

 Lizzie and Laura lie down to go to bed together.

 The poet compares the two of them to lots of different things as they cuddle up together.
The girls are like "two pigeons" that are sharing a nest as they curl up in their canopy
("curtained") bed.

 But the poet can't seem to decide on one analogy—. They're not just like pigeons,
they're also just like two flowers coming off of one "stem."

 Another comparison: they're like two flakes of snow.

 Finally, the two girls are compared to scepters made out of "ivory" with "gold" on the
"tips." This is the strangest comparison yet. The girls are "ivory" because their skin is
very fair and white, and the "gold" on the "tips" is their "golden" hair. But why compare
two young women to scepters or "wands" for "awful kings"?

 "Awful" means "awe-inspiring," and not "horrible."

 Both the flower and the snow comparisons suggest that the girls are both equally pure
and innocent. (You can think of this as being like the expression, "pure as the driven
snow.")

 The long list of comparisons emphasizes that the two girls look almost identical, like two
peas in a pod. But there's some irony here – we know that the two girls aren't the same
anymore. Laura has tasted the goblin fruit, and Lizzie hasn't.

Lines 192-198
Moon and stars gaz'd in at them,
Wind sang to them lullaby,
Lumbering owls forbore to fly,
Not a bat flapp'd to and fro
Round their rest:
Cheek to cheek and breast to breast
Lock'd together in one nest.

 As the girls sleep, everything is silent around them.

 All of nature seems to want them to sleep well – "the wind" even sings them a "lullaby."

 "Owls" and "bats" don't fly too near, for fear of disturbing the girls' sleep.

 They sleep all cuddled up, "cheek to cheek" in their bed.

Lines 199-214
Early in the morning
When the first cock crow'd his warning,
Neat like bees, as sweet and busy,
Laura rose with Lizzie:
Fetch'd in honey, milk'd the cows,
Air'd and set to rights the house,
Kneaded cakes of whitest wheat,
Cakes for dainty mouths to eat,
Next churn'd butter, whipp'd up cream,
Fed their poultry, sat and sew'd;
Talk'd as modest maidens should:
Lizzie with an open heart,
Laura in an absent dream,
One content, one sick in part;
One warbling for the mere bright day's delight,
One longing for the night.

 The next morning, the girls wake up together and start going about their usual morning
chores.

 They're as busy as bees, and just "as sweet."

 Laura and Lizzie apparently live by themselves in a country cottage. They have to bring
in the honey from the beehives, milk the cows, clean the house, make "cakes," churn the
cream into butter, whip the cream, feed the chickens, and finally, sit and sew.

 The long list of chores suggests good, wholesome work. In other words, Laura and
Lizzie are busy with domestic, household tasks, most of which involve preparing good,
wholesome food. Not like those dangerous goblin fruits.

 Once the major morning chores are done, they sit and sew together, and chat "as
modest maidens should."

 This is another way of saying that they're not gossiping about boys – they're being
"modest" and "maidenly."
  Lizzie doesn't have anything to hide because she's done nothing wrong, so she chats
away "with an open heart."

 But Laura's absent minded because she's still daydreaming about the goblin fruits.

 Lizzie is "warbling," or singing to herself like a bird, just because she's happy and it's a
beautiful day out, but Laura can't stop wishing for nightfall so she can get some more of
that sweet, sweet goblin fruit.

Lines 215-218
At length slow evening came:
They went with pitchers to the reedy brook;
Lizzie most placid in her look,
Laura most like a leaping flame.

 That evening, Laura and Lizzie head down to the brook to fill their "pitchers" with water.

 Lizzie is calm, or "placid," as usual, but Laura's all hot and bothered, like "a leaping
flame."

Lines 219-227
They drew the gurgling water from its deep;
Lizzie pluck'd purple and rich golden flags,
Then turning homeward said: "The sunset flushes
Those furthest loftiest crags;
Come, Laura, not another maiden lags.
No wilful squirrel wags,
The beasts and birds are fast asleep."
But Laura loiter'd still among the rushes
And said the bank was steep.

 After they've gathered the water they need, Lizzie pauses to pick some flowers ("flags"
are a kind of flower).

 Lizzie also takes the time to notice the beautiful sunset – it makes the distant "crags," or
cliffs, glow.

 Then Lizzie reminds Laura that it's time to go in. They're the last "maidens" out, and it's
not good for young women to loiter by the brook after sunset.

 Even the "squirrel[s]," "beasts and birds" have all gone in for the night.

 Laura's not interested in the sunset, the flowers, or the "beasts and birds." She can't see
the details Lizzie appreciates anymore.

 Laura "loiters" along the stream, making up excuses for staying. She says the "bank" of
the brook is too "steep" to climb back up with the pitcher of water.
Lines 253-259
Laura turn'd cold as stone
To find her sister heard that cry alone,
That goblin cry,
"Come buy our fruits, come buy."
Must she then buy no more such dainty fruit?
Must she no more such succous pasture find,
Gone deaf and blind?

 Laura freaks out when Lizzie tells her that she can hear the goblins. Why can Lizzie hear
them, while she can't? Does that mean she won't be able to eat anymore of that tasty,
tasty goblin fruit?

 It's still not clear why Laura can't hear the goblins anymore, and it's probably supposed
to stay a mystery. Lines 257-258 are phrased as questions, so if you're wondering what's
going on, don't worry: you're supposed to.

Lines 260-268
Her tree of life droop'd from the root:
She said not one word in her heart's sore ache;
But peering thro' the dimness, nought discerning,
Trudg'd home, her pitcher dripping all the way;
So crept to bed, and lay
Silent till Lizzie slept;
Then sat up in a passionate yearning,
And gnash'd her teeth for baulk'd desire, and wept
As if her heart would break.

 Laura's so depressed when she finds out that she's been cut off from that delicious,
drug-like goblin fruit that she gets all weak—her "tree of life" (AKA her health) gets
droopy.

 Laura doesn't say anything to Lizzie about what's upsetting her, she just "trudges" home
and goes straight to bed and sulks, like any angsty teenager might do.

 But after Lizzie's asleep, Laura sits up in bed – she's jonesing pretty hard for that goblin
fruit.

 The "desire" she feels for the goblin fruit is described in almost erotic terms – her
"passionate yearning" and "baulked" (i.e., unsatisfied) "desire."

 Laura cries and cries, and doesn't sleep.

Lines 269-280
Day after day, night after night,
Laura kept watch in vain
In sullen silence of exceeding pain.
She never caught again the goblin cry:
"Come buy, come buy;" -
She never spied the goblin men
Hawking their fruits along the glen:
But when the noon wax'd bright
Her hair grew thin and grey;
She dwindled, as the fair full moon doth turn
To swift decay and burn
Her fire away.

 Time passes. It's not clear how much time – it's just "day after day, night after night."

 Laura still yearns for the goblin fruit, and still can't even hear the goblin men as they
pass.

 The "sullen silence" of line 271 could have a double meaning. Laura can't hear the
goblin men, and everything is "silent" around her, and she's "silent" herself, in that she
hasn't told Lizzie what the problem is.

 Even though she "kept watch," Laura can't hear or see the goblin men.

 By the time of the next full moon (i.e., "when the moon waxed bright"), Laura's hair
suddenly goes gray.

 Apparently, eating the goblin fruit somehow tied Laura's life to the moon, so that by the
time the moon wanes away, Laura will die.