Unknown Worth: A Poetic Experience of Love and Truth (draft)

Shakespeare’s Sonnet 116 is a well-written, much-loved, and highly praised piece of classic literature, but to a young girl ignorant of literary intricacies, simply watching a Jane Austen movie with her dad, it was none of those things—it was magic. The words danced and swirled and moved in her heart like she’d never felt words do before. That child was me.

When I watched Ang Lee’s 1995 version of Sense and Sensibility as a little girl and heard Marianne quote Shakespeare’s beautiful words, I certainly wasn’t thinking about his use of syntax, rhyme, or sonnet structure. Shakespeare’s craft with words allowed me to experience the power of poetry without any knowledge of why it worked. However, I was moved to tears at the pure beauty of what he had created. His words entered the deepest parts of my heart. Even now, the words come to me almost unbidden: 

Let me not to the marriage of true minds 

Admit impediments. Love is not love 

Which alters when it alteration finds, 

Or bends with the remover to remove. 

These are the words I would find myself whispering alone in my room at night during my high school days, searching for something more, praying that love was real and that all men were not as ignorant or selfish as the boy who had just dropped me off. Poetry helped me form an idea of what true love was long before my time—causing me to skip the girlish giggles and swoons, and cling to my belief that love could be true when it was caring and considerate. Was I fanciful and childish? Carried off in a Cinderella dream? Maybe, but to me it felt deeper than that. This poem had set off in me the beginnings of wisdom; a yearning for what I wanted most in this life. It became a kind of rebellion against the lust, conflict, and brokenness that I saw all around me. I believed that love was possible, and I believed that it was powerful.

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark 

That looks on tempests and is never shaken; 

Shakespeare’s meticulous diction awakened me to the power of words. His use of the traditional sonnet structure somehow gave the poem a dependability and consistency that seemed symbolic itself. His beautiful lyricism swept me away to another world—a better world—a world where kindness ruled the day. These words gave me permission to feel; I began to believe that empathy was strength, and that emotion was not weakness. I have forgotten this many times, but always this poem always brings me right back. Even as a child, my heart could feel the truth of the words, and it gave me hope for the future. For my own future, and the future of the world.

It is the star to every wand'ring bark, 

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. 

What a beautiful sentiment! “It is the star to every wand’ring bark,/ Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.” I felt like my height had been taken, and I’d come up short. But maybe my worth was yet unknown—maybe I didn’t know my own worth, and maybe those around me didn’t either. Maybe finding my worth would be a journey; the symbolism of a guiding star hinting that maybe this journey would take some faith.

Imagine my delight when I stumbled upon the same poem in what would become a beloved book. The book is Blackmoore by Julianne Donaldson. In this story the protagonist hears her best friend reading this poem to his elderly grandfather who is losing his memory. With this impactful scene, the poem became even more meaningful to me:

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 

Within his bending sickle's compass come; 

Love cannot be tricked by time. The personification of both Love and Time makes these subjects real and tangible. Somehow, giving them names and personalities helps us understand their intricacies in new light. “Love’s not Time’s fool,” although “Within his bending sickle’s compass come,” and “Love alters not with brief hours and weeks.” Real Love is not diminished or controlled by Time, even as beauty fades, Love grows stronger.

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, 

But bears it out even to the edge of doom. 

Love is a journey, just as life is a journey. Words like “wand’ring,” “bears it out,” “hours and weeks,” and “edge of doom” tell a story. We can almost see the hero’s arc within the poem as Love itself voyages on.

Poetry such as this reveals our earnest emotions—as if the use of a dance-like rhythm deliberately shakes it out of us, all while alliteration like “alters not when it alteration finds” and “remover to remove” sticks it into our minds for good. In addition, poetry often says what we cannot say. What this poem said for me was undeniable—I felt that Love was true and somehow these words had proven it.

If this be error and upon me prov'd, 

I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.

In these closing words Shakespeare wrenches you out of the spell he has previously cast. He calls us to reality by bringing in a first person narrative, which he hasn’t used since the very beginning of the poem. He references himself—and swears on the authenticity of his many works of literature and the love of all men everywhere that what he says is true. Could there be a more profound promise than that? These closing words connected poet and reader like nothing else could have. I felt like I knew him—as if we could commune across time and space to say the same words and feel the same sentiments. Ultimately, this is what I believe all poetry can do. It is a powerful medium that I believe can foster connection, understanding, and communication—in other words, it can foster Love—in unparalleled ways. Just as this one did for me, poems have the power to slice through the trifling and mundane things of everyday life, and connect our very hearts.