RICHARD HENRY DANA by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
Longfellow offers a brief yet impactful tribute to Richard Henry Dana Sr., a fellow poet and critic, capturing the moment of his burial on a snowy day.
The poem
In the old churchyard of his native town, And in the ancestral tomb beside the wall, We laid him in the sleep that comes to all, And left him to his rest and his renown. The snow was falling, as if Heaven dropped down White flowers of Paradise to strew his pall;-- The dead around him seemed to wake, and call His name, as worthy of so white a crown. And now the moon is shining on the scene, And the broad sheet of snow is written o'er With shadows cruciform of leafless trees, As once the winding-sheet of Saladin With chapters of the Koran; but, ah! more Mysterious and triumphant signs are these.
Longfellow offers a brief yet impactful tribute to Richard Henry Dana Sr., a fellow poet and critic, capturing the moment of his burial on a snowy day. The snow, moonlight, and the silhouettes of bare trees cast on the ground serve as symbols of something sacred and beyond our usual grasp. This poem reflects on honoring the life of a good man and discovering significance in the natural surroundings at the graveside.
Line-by-line
In the old churchyard of his native town, / And in the ancestral tomb beside the wall,
We laid him in the sleep that comes to all, / And left him to his rest and his renown.
The snow was falling, as if Heaven dropped down / White flowers of Paradise to strew his pall;--
The dead around him seemed to wake, and call / His name, as worthy of so white a crown.
And now the moon is shining on the scene, / And the broad sheet of snow is written o'er
With shadows cruciform of leafless trees, / As once the winding-sheet of Saladin
With chapters of the Koran; but, ah! more / Mysterious and triumphant signs are these.
Tone & mood
The tone remains solemn and respectful throughout, yet it doesn’t descend into grief or despair. Longfellow maintains control over his emotions — it feels more like a dignified tribute than a lament. By the sestet, a quiet sense of wonder emerges, shifting the poem from mourning to something resembling awe. The final lines resonate with a note of triumph that feels genuinely earned rather than contrived.
Symbols & metaphors
- Falling snow — The snow serves as a natural occurrence and a divine sign—white flowers from Paradise sprinkled over Dana's coffin. It symbolizes purity, honor, and the notion that Heaven is paying its respects.
- White crown — The crown of snow brings to mind a martyr's or saint's crown, as well as the quiet dignity of a life well lived. It signifies that Dana is seen as worthy, not just by those who mourn him, but also by the dead surrounding him.
- Cruciform shadows — The cross-shaped shadows of leafless trees etched on the snow create a natural scripture—a sacred text made by moonlight and winter. They express the notion that nature communicates a spiritual language that goes deeper than any human writing.
- Saladin's winding-sheet — The historical detail of Saladin's burial shroud, which is inscribed with Koranic verses, highlights death as a moment of deep faith and declaration. Longfellow uses this as a comparison to suggest that the natural signs at Dana's grave carry even greater significance.
- The ancestral tomb — The family tomb next to the churchyard wall grounds Dana in continuity — connecting him to his lineage, community, and place. It suggests that his death isn’t an ending but a return.
Historical context
Richard Henry Dana Sr. (1787–1879) was an influential American poet and critic, known as a founding contributor to *The North American Review* and an important figure in early American literature. He and Longfellow were part of the same literary scene in Boston that influenced Longfellow's work. Dana passed away in February 1879 at the age of 92, prompting Longfellow to write this Petrarchan sonnet in his memory. The poem appeared in Longfellow's last collection, *In the Harbor* (1882), the same year Longfellow died. The mention of Saladin highlights the Victorian era's intrigue with the medieval Islamic world, a fascination partly fueled by popular Crusades literature. Longfellow was consistently interested in cross-cultural comparisons, and in this poem, he uses one to illustrate the universal language of nature in the face of death.
FAQ
Richard Henry Dana Sr. was an American poet and literary critic who reached the age of 92 and gained respect in Boston's literary circles. Longfellow knew him well and penned this sonnet as a tribute following Dana's death in 1879. It's the sort of poem that one writer shares with another — a public gesture to honor a colleague and friend.
It's a Petrarchan (Italian) sonnet, consisting of 14 lines split into an octave (8 lines) and a sestet (6 lines). The octave paints a picture of the burial scene, while the sestet transitions to a contemplative moment under the moonlight in the snow-covered churchyard. The rhyme scheme adheres to the traditional Petrarchan format: ABBAABBA for the octave, with a different pattern in the sestet.
"Cruciform" refers to something that is shaped like a cross. Longfellow illustrates how the bare winter trees create shadows on the snow resembling crosses—this aligns with the Christian burial context and enhances the notion of the landscape as a sacred, written text.
Saladin was a 12th-century Muslim sultan known for recapturing Jerusalem during the Crusades. Historical tradition holds that his burial shroud featured verses from the Koran, symbolizing his final declaration of faith. Longfellow draws on this image to liken Dana's snow-covered grave to a sacred text, suggesting that the natural signs surrounding Dana's burial carry even deeper meaning.
He refers to the cross-shaped shadows of trees cast by moonlight on the snow. His argument is that, at this graveside, nature is creating something deeper and more triumphant than the Koran inscribed on Saladin's shroud. It’s a daring assertion — that the natural world communicates a spiritual message that goes beyond human scripture.
It's a way of transforming a natural occurrence into a sacred act. In many cultures, flowers are strewn over a coffin as a sign of respect and goodbye. By referring to the snowflakes as white flowers from Paradise, Longfellow implies that Heaven is carrying out this ritual for Dana — a significant tribute to a man he clearly held in high regard.
The octave unfolds right in the midst of the burial — lively, immediate, filled with mourners and the soft touch of falling snow. In contrast, the sestet pulls back to a later, more tranquil moment: the mourners have departed, the moon is shining, and everything has grown quiet. The mood transitions from deep sorrow to a sense of wonder and awe, as Longfellow discovers profound meaning in the moonlit snow.
Almost certainly both. Longfellow published this poem in *In the Harbor* in 1882, the year he died, and he was in his mid-70s when he wrote it. Reflecting on a contemporary's burial, with such careful attention to the imagery and meaning of death, is difficult to separate from his own sense of mortality. The poem serves as a tribute to Dana and, subtly, as Longfellow's way of coming to terms with his own inevitable end.