ON A PORTRAIT OF DANTE BY GIOTTO by James Russell Lowell: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
Lowell gazes at Giotto's renowned portrait of Dante, reflecting on the true cost of being a poet.
The poem
Can this be thou who, lean and pale, With such immitigable eye Didst look upon those writhing souls in bale, And note each vengeance, and pass by Unmoved, save when thy heart by chance Cast backward one forbidden glance, And saw Francesca, with child's glee, Subdue and mount thy wild-horse knee And with proud hands control its fiery prance? With half-drooped lids, and smooth, round brow, And eye remote, that inly sees Fair Beatrice's spirit wandering now In some sea-lulled Hesperides, Thou movest through the jarring street, Secluded from the noise of feet By her gift-blossom in thy hand, Thy branch of palm from Holy Land;-- No trace is here of ruin's fiery sleet. Yet there is something round thy lips That prophesies the coming doom, The soft, gray herald-shadow ere the eclipse Notches the perfect disk with gloom; A something that would banish thee, And thine untamed pursuer be, From men and their unworthy fates, Though Florence had not shut her gates, And Grief had loosed her clutch and let thee free. Ah! he who follows fearlessly The beckonings of a poet-heart Shall wander, and without the world's decree, A banished man in field and mart; Harder than Florence' walls the bar Which with deaf sternness holds him far From home and friends, till death's release, And makes his only prayer for peace, Like thine, scarred veteran of a lifelong war!
Lowell gazes at Giotto's renowned portrait of Dante, reflecting on the true cost of being a poet. He shifts from the youthful, idealistic Dante in the painting to the older, exiled Dante who endured hardship for his craft. He contends that every genuine poet is an exile at heart, even if they haven't been formally banished from a city. The poem concludes with Lowell addressing Dante directly as a fellow traveler, a "scarred veteran" of the relentless struggle that a serious commitment to art requires.
Line-by-line
Can this be thou who, lean and pale, / With such immitigable eye
With half-drooped lids, and smooth, round brow, / And eye remote, that inly sees
Yet there is something round thy lips / That prophesies the coming doom,
Ah! he who follows fearlessly / The beckonings of a poet-heart
Tone & mood
The tone of the poem is meditative and elegiac, with a quiet intensity growing through each stanza. Lowell begins with a sense of curious, almost tender examination—looking closely at a painting—and concludes in a place of solidarity and grief. Although there’s admiration present, it’s a straightforward kind; Lowell doesn’t romanticize Dante’s suffering but instead calls it what it is: a war. The final "Ah!" stands out as the only moment of raw emotion, making its impact strong because the rest of the poem maintains such control.
Symbols & metaphors
- The portrait itself — Giotto's painting marks a transition between two aspects of Dante — the youthful dreamer and the seasoned exile. Through this visual image, Lowell can explore both versions simultaneously and question how one transforms into the other.
- The gift-blossom and palm branch — These objects in the painted Dante's hand symbolize his devotion—to Beatrice and to his spiritual journey. They indicate that he is already immersed in an inner world distinct from the bustling street around him, hinting at the isolation he will experience later.
- The eclipse — The "soft, gray herald-shadow" moving across the sun before the eclipse represents Lowell's view of the doom that was already present in Dante's young face. It indicates that suffering and exile weren't just random events but were part of his nature from the very beginning.
- Florence's gates / walls — Florence closing its gates represents a literal historical exile, but Lowell uses this event to make a broader argument: the true barriers preventing the poet from feeling a sense of belonging are internal and universal, more formidable than any stone walls a city can construct.
- The scarred veteran — The closing military metaphor reinterprets the entire poetic journey as a prolonged campaign. It removes any romantic notions about artistic dedication and acknowledges it frankly as harm — injuries, fatigue, and a desire for the struggle to finally conclude.
Historical context
James Russell Lowell wrote this poem in the mid-nineteenth century, a time when Dante was being enthusiastically rediscovered by readers in England and America. Lowell was one of the leading American scholars on Dante and even lectured about the *Divine Comedy* at Harvard. Giotto's portrait of Dante—a fresco in the Bargello chapel in Florence that was rediscovered in 1840—created quite a stir because it was thought to depict Dante as a young man, before the hardships of exile took their toll. This rediscovery provided Lowell with a central dramatic tension: the contrast between the youthful figure in the fresco and the gaunt, bitter legend we know. Additionally, Lowell drew from his own experiences as a serious literary artist in a society that didn’t fully appreciate that role, which adds an autobiographical edge to the final stanza.
FAQ
On the surface, this piece focuses on Lowell observing Giotto's portrait of a young Dante and noticing how different he appears from the stern poet in the *Inferno*. However, the deeper theme is the price of being a poet — how a commitment to art can isolate someone from everyday life, turning them into an exile even without any formal exile.
Francesca da Rimini stands out as a well-known character in Dante's *Inferno* — a noblewoman sent to Hell for committing adultery. Dante's reaction to her tale is profound; he weeps and faints, marking one of the few instances in the *Commedia* where his emotional facade falters. Lowell envisions her playfully perched on Dante's knee like a child, illustrating the one vulnerable aspect of an otherwise stoic observer.
It is a fresco located in the Bargello chapel in Florence, painted around 1337 and traditionally credited to Giotto, although some scholars have questioned this attribution. The fresco was covered up and then rediscovered in 1840, sparking significant excitement as it was believed to be the earliest surviving image of Dante, depicting him as a young man with a smooth, rounded face—quite unlike the hook-nosed, serious profile seen in later portraits.
Lowell suggests that a true poet's isolation doesn't stem from external factors, such as political exile. Instead, it arises from the inherent nature of pursuing a "poet-heart" — fully dedicating oneself to an artistic vision — which naturally sets a person apart from others. Florence merely formalized what was bound to occur regardless.
Lowell observes a subtle hint of the future suffering etched in the young Dante's face — similar to how a solar eclipse starts with a faint gray shadow creeping over the sun before it completely obscures the light. The sense of impending doom was already present in the portrait, for those who knew where to look.
It intentionally removes any romantic ideas about the life of a poet. War brings real destruction, fatigue, and loss — it's not about noble suffering but relentless weariness. Lowell suggests that Dante's creative and personal life was truly harsh, leaving only the hope that death would offer some peace.
In Greek mythology, the Hesperides were nymphs who cared for a garden at the far western edge of the world—a paradise across the sea. Lowell uses this imagery to capture where Dante's thoughts drift as he walks the street: to a place that feels impossibly beautiful and distant, where he envisions Beatrice's spirit now resides.
Both. The final stanza moves from addressing "thou" (Dante) to a broader "he who follows fearlessly the beckonings of a poet-heart," allowing for any poet — including Lowell himself — to be included. He was writing during a period when he experienced the tension between serious literary endeavors and the expectations of public and academic life, so the poem holds personal significance while also paying tribute to Dante.