Creeds: Here used in the broad sense of convictions, by James Russell Lowell: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
This entry consists of editorial notes on a poem by James Russell Lowell, rather than the poem itself.
The poem
principles, beliefs. 115-118. The construction is faulty in these lines. The two last clauses should be co-ordinated. The substance of the meaning is: Peace has her wreath, while the cannon are silent and while the sword slumbers. Lowell's attention was called to this defective passage by T.W. Higginson, and he replied: "Your criticism is perfectly just, and I am much obliged to you for it--though I might defend myself, I believe, by some constructions even looser in some of the Greek choruses. But on the whole, when I have my choice, I prefer to make sense." He then suggested an emendation, which somehow failed to get into the published poem: "Ere yet the sharp, decisive word Redden the cannon's lips, and while the sword."
This entry consists of editorial notes on a poem by James Russell Lowell, rather than the poem itself. It clarifies the meaning of "creeds" in context and highlights a grammatical issue in lines 115–118. A critic, T.W. Higginson, noted the faulty construction to Lowell, who acknowledged the error and even proposed a solution. However, that solution never made it into the published version. This exchange offers a candid glimpse into how even well-regarded poets can leave flawed lines in their work.
Line-by-line
principles, beliefs.
115-118. The construction is faulty in these lines.
Lowell's attention was called to this defective passage by T.W. Higginson...
"Ere yet the sharp, decisive word / Redden the cannon's lips, and while the sword."
Tone & mood
The tone of these notes is honest and slightly ironic. Lowell doesn't get defensive when confronted — he acknowledges the mistake with a sense of humor, makes a clever reference to Greek choruses to show he’s given it some thought, and then gets right to the point: making sense. There's a refreshing absence of ego in the exchange.
Symbols & metaphors
- The cannon's lips — A personification of the cannon as a talking mouth. When the 'sharp, decisive word' colors those lips, Lowell merges the act of issuing a military command with the act of firing — language and violence become one and the same movement.
- The sword slumbering — The sheathed sword symbolizes the pause between conflicts — a delicate peace that exists not because the war is over, but because it hasn't begun yet.
- Peace's wreath — The laurel or olive wreath is a classical symbol of victory and honor. In this case, it represents Peace, but only under certain conditions—she holds it in the quiet before the guns fire, hinting that peace is always fleeting and achieved during borrowed time.
Historical context
James Russell Lowell (1819–1891) was a leading figure in American literature during the nineteenth century. He was a poet, critic, editor of *The Atlantic Monthly*, and eventually a diplomat. His writing coincided with a tumultuous time in the United States, as it moved toward and through the Civil War, making issues of conscience, conviction, and the cost of peace very personal for him. T.W. Higginson, who pointed out a grammatical mistake, was also from New England and involved in the same reform movements—he led a Black regiment during the Civil War and later mentored Emily Dickinson. Their correspondence about these lines reflects the literary culture of their time: serious, collaborative, and willing to challenge even well-known poets. Lowell's correction, which never saw publication, serves as a subtle reminder that published poems often capture a moment of imperfection.
FAQ
Lowell uses it in a broad sense to refer to any strongly held convictions or principles — encompassing not only religious faith but also the beliefs that influence how someone behaves in the world.
The last two clauses in those lines are not grammatically balanced — they should have a parallel structure (coordinated), but they don't match as written. The meaning is understandable, but the grammar is somewhat loose.
Thomas Wentworth Higginson was a poet, abolitionist, and reformer, but he’s likely most recognized today as the person Emily Dickinson turned to for literary guidance. He and Lowell were part of the same literary circles in New England.
He quickly agreed and thanked Higginson. He jokingly defended his point by mentioning that Greek choruses often have even looser constructions, but he then added that he'd prefer to be clear — and suggested a revised version of the lines.
The notes mention it 'somehow failed to get into the published poem' — but there's no dramatic explanation provided. This sort of editorial oversight occurs often: a correction is decided upon but doesn’t make it into the final version.
It's a personification—the cannon is given a mouth, and the 'sharp, decisive word' (the order to fire) reddens those lips, merging the violence of speech with the violence of artillery. It's a vivid, powerful image.
The poem reflects on peace, war, and the beliefs that people hold. The specific lines illustrate the delicate calm that exists just before armed conflict erupts.
Lowell was recognized for his ambitious and often unwieldy long poems—*The Biglow Papers* and *A Fable for Critics* are his best-known works. The grammatical complexities found in his longer pieces align with his inclination to strive for intricate effects, which sometimes leads to overextension.