Sonnet 44: If the Dull Substance of My Flesh Were Thought
Sonnet 44: If the Dull Substance of My Flesh Were Thought - form Summary
A Volta Drives the Turn
This Shakespearean sonnet contrasts the mind’s ability to traverse distance with the body’s physical limits. The speaker imagines thought as instantaneous travel to a beloved, then undergoes a sharp turn: thought itself becomes a source of pain because it cannot substitute for presence. The poem closes on the bodily reality of waiting and sorrow, where tears replace the imagined immediacy thought promised.
Read Complete AnalysesIf the dull substance of my flesh were thought, Injurious distance should not stop my way; For then despite of space I would be brought, From limits far remote, where thou dost stay. No matter then although my foot did stand Upon the farthest earth removed from thee; For nimble thought can jump both sea and land As soon as think the place where he would be. But, ah, thought kills me that I am not thought, To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone, But that, so much of earth and water wrought, I must attend time’s leisure with my moan, Receiving nought by elements so slow, But heavy tears, badges of either’s woe.
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