The Secret by James Russell Lowell

The secret lies in giving your idea a "tune"—essentially, setting it to music in a broad sense. Lowell suggests that the key to making an idea resonate with people is to infuse it with the natural rhythm and flow of the world around us: the sound of a brook, a gentle breeze, wildflowers swaying in the wind. It's not so much about creating a literal song; it's about capturing that quality of aliveness that makes art feel organic and inevitable rather than artificially crafted.

That's the main joke and the key truth of the poem. He mentions things that seem simple — like loving and kissing — but we all know they can be difficult and often don't work out. The word "Missing" reveals it: it introduces failure and loss right at the end. The concept is simple to explain but incredibly tough to achieve. That’s why a true Master is so hard to find.

Lowell refers to himself as the cocoon — the temporary space where the idea existed before it emerged and transformed into something greater than he is. It's a humble metaphor. The artist is merely the shell; the art is the butterfly. Once the idea is released into the world, the individual who conceived it becomes less significant.

A columbine is a wildflower that grows naturally in North America, recognized for its graceful, drooping flowers. Lowell employs it as a distinctly American natural symbol—rooting his abstract concept of "tune" in a tangible, local, sensory experience. The flower sways to a rhythm in June just like a reader might nod in agreement with a poem that resonates.

The poem features a unique and melodic rhyme scheme that varies throughout the three stanzas. The first stanza follows an AABBC pattern (bring it / sing it / wing it / ME / free), while the second is more relaxed, relying on internal rhymes like "sings you" and "brings you." In the third stanza, you'll find the words "see," "kissing," "missing," and "three" paired together. Overall, it feels like a spontaneous creation, mirroring Lowell's performance. The structure reinforces the poem's message.

Lowell intentionally leaves the names unspecified. He points to a select group of artists throughout history—like Homer, Shakespeare, or anyone else you personally consider to have made an impact—who managed to present their ideas as naturally and inevitably as the sound of running water. By not naming them, he encourages the reader to fill in those blanks.

It's about art in general, but Lowell was clearly a poet reflecting on his own craft. The word "tune" and the idea to "set it to music" can relate to any creative endeavor — whether it’s painting, storytelling, or giving a speech — where the creator needs to discover the right form to express their idea. The natural images (brook, breeze, columbines) imply that nature itself is the standard for what constitutes "good" form, rather than any specific artistic tradition.

The pause — "Easy as -- well, let me think -- as missing" — illustrates the very struggle he's talking about. He pretends to hunt for the right word, and when he finally settles on "missing," it subtly shifts the cheerful atmosphere. "Missing" can imply a disconnect or evoke the pain of absence. In both cases, it underscores that love, kissing, and art all come with the possibility of loss. That moment of hesitation makes the word resonate more when it finally comes out.