FIGURINES IN OLD SAXE by Amy Lowell: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
A woman dressed in a richly embroidered gown strolls through the formal garden paths of her estate, lost in thoughts of the lover she was soon to marry — until she comes across a letter revealing he has been killed in war.
The poem
Patterns I walk down the garden paths, And all the daffodils Are blowing, and the bright blue squills. I walk down the patterned garden-paths In my stiff, brocaded gown. With my powdered hair and jewelled fan, I too am a rare Pattern. As I wander down The garden paths. My dress is richly figured, And the train Makes a pink and silver stain On the gravel, and the thrift Of the borders. Just a plate of current fashion, Tripping by in high-heeled, ribboned shoes. Not a softness anywhere about me, Only whalebone and brocade. And I sink on a seat in the shade Of a lime tree. For my passion Wars against the stiff brocade. The daffodils and squills Flutter in the breeze As they please. And I weep; For the lime-tree is in blossom And one small flower has dropped upon my bosom. And the plashing of waterdrops In the marble fountain Comes down the garden-paths. The dripping never stops. Underneath my stiffened gown Is the softness of a woman bathing in a marble basin, A basin in the midst of hedges grown So thick, she cannot see her lover hiding, But she guesses he is near, And the sliding of the water Seems the stroking of a dear Hand upon her. What is Summer in a fine brocaded gown! I should like to see it lying in a heap upon the ground. All the pink and silver crumpled up on the ground. I would be the pink and silver as I ran along the paths, And he would stumble after, Bewildered by my laughter. I should see the sun flashing from his sword-hilt and the buckles on his shoes. I would choose To lead him in a maze along the patterned paths, A bright and laughing maze for my heavy-booted lover, Till he caught me in the shade, And the buttons of his waistcoat bruised my body as he clasped me, Aching, melting, unafraid. With the shadows of the leaves and the sundrops, And the plopping of the waterdrops, All about us in the open afternoon-- I am very like to swoon With the weight of this brocade, For the sun sifts through the shade. Underneath the fallen blossom In my bosom, Is a letter I have hid. It was brought to me this morning by a rider from the Duke. "Madam, we regret to inform you that Lord Hartwell Died in action Thursday se'nnight." As I read it in the white, morning sunlight, The letters squirmed like snakes. "Any answer, Madam," said my footman. "No," I told him. "See that the messenger takes some refreshment. No, no answer." And I walked into the garden, Up and down the patterned paths, In my stiff, correct brocade. The blue and yellow flowers stood up proudly in the sun, Each one. I stood upright too, Held rigid to the pattern By the stiffness of my gown. Up and down I walked, Up and down. In a month he would have been my husband. In a month, here, underneath this lime, We would have broke the pattern; He for me, and I for him, He as Colonel, I as Lady, On this shady seat. He had a whim That sunlight carried blessing. And I answered, "It shall be as you have said." Now he is dead. In Summer and in Winter I shall walk Up and down The patterned garden-paths In my stiff, brocaded gown. The squills and daffodils Will give place to pillared roses, and to asters, and to snow. I shall go Up and down, In my gown. Gorgeously arrayed, Boned and stayed. And the softness of my body will be guarded from embrace By each button, hook, and lace. For the man who should loose me is dead, Fighting with the Duke in Flanders, In a pattern called a war. Christ! What are patterns for? Pickthorn Manor I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round clouds, blown away, Let drop the yellow sunshine to gleam through And tip the edges of the waves with shifts And spots of whitest fire, hard like gems Cut from the midnight moon they were, and sharp As wind through leafless stems. The Lady Eunice walked between the drifts Of blooming cherry-trees, and watched the rifts Of clouds drawn through the river's azure warp. II Her little feet tapped softly down the path. Her soul was listless; even the morning breeze Fluttering the trees and strewing a light swath Of fallen petals on the grass, could please Her not at all. She brushed a hair aside With a swift move, and a half-angry frown. She stopped to pull a daffodil or two, And held them to her gown To test the colours; put them at her side, Then at her breast, then loosened them and tried Some new arrangement, but it would not do.
A woman dressed in a richly embroidered gown strolls through the formal garden paths of her estate, lost in thoughts of the lover she was soon to marry — until she comes across a letter revealing he has been killed in war. The poem concludes with her understanding that she will be confined for the rest of her life within the strict "patterns" of society, fashion, and mourning. Her final exclamation, "Christ! What are patterns for?" questions the value of the rules we follow in life.
Line-by-line
I walk down the garden paths, / And all the daffodils
My dress is richly figured, / And the train
And the plashing of waterdrops / In the marble fountain
I would be the pink and silver as I ran along the paths,
Underneath the fallen blossom / In my bosom,
In a month he would have been my husband.
In Summer and in Winter I shall walk / Up and down
Tone & mood
The tone develops in a distinct progression: it starts with a restless, ironic self-awareness (the speaker recognizes she is merely a decorative object and feels resentment about it), transitions into a sensual longing during the fantasy sequences, and then becomes cold and controlled when the death announcement is made. The final stanza feels bleak and resigned — until the last two lines burst forth with raw, almost shocking grief and anger. Lowell maintains precise and vivid language throughout, which intensifies the emotional impact of the ending by contrast.
Symbols & metaphors
- The brocaded gown — The gown symbolizes social constraint at the heart of the poem. Its whalebone, buttons, hooks, and lace restrict the body's movement and touch. It represents the rules of class, gender, and propriety that dictate the speaker's life — stunning on the outside, yet confining on the inside.
- The garden paths — The formal, patterned garden paths symbolize the set paths society creates for individuals—particularly women. The speaker is restricted to walking along these paths; she can’t stray from them. By the end, they reflect her whole future: a life of monotonous, expected movements without a clear destination.
- The fallen blossom — The single flower that falls onto the speaker's bosom is a gentle gesture of nature touching a tough exterior. It symbolizes the soft, vibrant world of life pushing against the hard edges of society — and it’s where she conceals the death notice, making it a symbol of both affection and grief.
- The marble fountain — The fountain's steady dripping echoes the passage of time and unfulfilled desire. Its water sparks fantasies of bathing, connecting sensory enjoyment with the freedom that eludes the speaker. Marble feels cold and hard—much like the social world—but the flowing water is warm and vibrant.
- The death letter — The military notification brings the public and political realm—war, duty, the Duke's campaign—into the personal and sensory experience of the garden. Its formal, impersonal wording ("we regret to inform you") starkly showcases how rigid structure can overshadow genuine human emotion.
- War as pattern — In the closing lines, Lowell clearly identifies war as a 'pattern'—a system as strict and arbitrary as a dress code or garden layout, yet one that takes lives. This shifts the entire perspective of the poem: the personal patterns that confine the speaker and the military-political patterns that lead to her lover's death are fundamentally similar, just functioning on different levels.
Historical context
Amy Lowell published "Patterns" in 1915, later including it in *Men, Women and Ghosts* (1916), right in the midst of World War One. As a prominent figure in the Imagist movement, she valued sharp, vivid imagery over the sentimental style typical of the Victorian era. The poem's 18th-century backdrop—complete with brocaded gowns, powdered hair, and a lord fighting for a duke—provides a sense of historical distance. Yet, its anti-war sentiment and critique of the societal constraints on women resonate deeply with contemporary issues. Lowell, a wealthy Boston Brahmin, lived openly with her partner Ada Dwyer Russell, and her own struggles with strict social expectations likely influenced the speaker's sense of frustration. The poem employs free verse, featuring irregular line lengths and a loose rhythm that reflects the speaker's restless pacing, showcasing how form and content align perfectly as intended by Imagism.
FAQ
Lowell uses 'patterns' to refer to any rigid system that dictates human behavior — such as the layout of a formal garden, the brocaded gown complete with corset and buttons, the social rules that outline a lady's conduct, and even war itself. These are all patterns in that they are pre-designed structures into which people are expected to conform, regardless of their true feelings or desires.
Lord Hartwell is the speaker's fiancé. He served as a colonel in Flanders, a key battleground during WWI, under 'the Duke.' The letter she receives informs her that he died in action the Thursday before last — 'se'nnight' is an old term for seven nights, indicating a week ago. They had just one month left until their wedding.
The gown symbolizes all the things that hold her back — societal norms, class expectations, and the tightness of a corset. In her daydream, discarding it would mean letting go of those constraints and just being a free, physical, emotional being. There’s an erotic element to this as well: she envisions her lover catching her, free of the barrier that her dress creates.
Yes, definitely. The final lines refer to war as 'a pattern called a war' — placing it alongside something as mundane as a dress code or garden design. This suggests that war, like those other patterns, is a human creation that takes real lives in order to uphold a system. The closing question, 'Christ! What are patterns for?' addresses all of these systems at once, including war.
The poem is in free verse—lacking a fixed rhyme scheme or metre—but Lowell incorporates irregular rhymes and repeated phrases ('up and down,' 'patterned garden-paths') to instill a feeling of limitation within the seeming freedom. This structure reflects the content: the speaker navigates her thoughts with ease, yet continually circles back to the same paths, the same images, the same trap.
The bathing scene unfolds as a fantasy inspired by the sound of the fountain. The woman in the water can't see her lover, yet she feels his presence close by, as the water on her skin mimics his touch. This moment embodies everything the speaker is denied by her gown and social position: physical freedom, sensory pleasure, and intimate connection. The hedge concealing her lover reflects the social barriers that keep desire obscured and indirect.
It’s a burst of pure grief and anger — the one moment in the poem where the speaker completely loses her composure. She has maintained a 'rigid to the pattern' demeanor throughout, even after reading the death notice. That one word shatters all of that. It's less a religious shout and more a scream of pain and frustration at the absurdity of it all — the gown, the war, the rules, the loss.
No. The speaker is a fictional aristocratic woman from the 18th century, created by Lowell along with her circumstances. However, the emotional heart of the poem—a woman constrained by societal norms, mourning a man who died in war—reflects the genuine sorrow of women during World War One, as well as Lowell's own experiences in a society with strict gender roles and expectations.