THREE FRIENDS OF MINE by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
Longfellow writes two sonnets mourning three close friends who have passed away, expressing sorrow that only memories remain in place of their once-vibrant presence.
The poem
I When I remember them, those friends of mine, Who are no longer here, the noble three, Who half my life were more than friends to me, And whose discourse was like a generous wine, I most of all remember the divine Something, that shone in them, and made us see The archetypal man, and what might be The amplitude of Nature's first design. In vain I stretch my hands to clasp their hands; I cannot find them. Nothing now is left But a majestic memory. They meanwhile Wander together in Elysian lands, Perchance remembering me, who am bereft Of their dear presence, and, remembering, smile. II In Attica thy birthplace should have been, Or the Ionian Isles, or where the seas Encircle in their arms the Cyclades, So wholly Greek wast thou in thy serene And childlike joy of life, O Philhellene! Around thee would have swarmed the Attic bees; Homer had been thy friend, or Socrates, And Plato welcomed thee to his demesne. For thee old legends breathed historic breath; Thou sawest Poseidon in the purple sea, And in the sunset Jason's fleece of gold! O, what hadst thou to do with cruel Death, Who wast so full of life, or Death with thee, That thou shouldst die before thou hadst grown old!
Longfellow writes two sonnets mourning three close friends who have passed away, expressing sorrow that only memories remain in place of their once-vibrant presence. The second sonnet focuses on one of these friends, celebrating his vivacity, joyfulness, and profound love for ancient Greek culture, making death seem like an unfair twist for someone so lively. Together, the poems pose a poignant question: how can people so full of life just disappear?
Line-by-line
When I remember them, those friends of mine, / Who are no longer here, the noble three,
Who half my life were more than friends to me, / And whose discourse was like a generous wine,
I most of all remember the divine / Something, that shone in them,
In vain I stretch my hands to clasp their hands; / I cannot find them.
They meanwhile / Wander together in Elysian lands,
In Attica thy birthplace should have been, / Or the Ionian Isles,
So wholly Greek wast thou in thy serene / And childlike joy of life, O Philhellene!
Around thee would have swarmed the Attic bees; / Homer had been thy friend, or Socrates,
For thee old legends breathed historic breath; / Thou sawest Poseidon in the purple sea,
O, what hadst thou to do with cruel Death, / Who wast so full of life, or Death with thee,
Tone & mood
The tone in both sonnets is mournful and gentle, but never wallowing in self-pity. Longfellow expresses his grief openly, without shame, yet he consistently leans toward warmth — like the Elysian smile at the close of Sonnet I and the vibrant tribute to his friend's happiness in Sonnet II. There’s a subtle anger in the last couplet of Sonnet II, a brief protest against the timing of death, but even that leans more towards sorrow than bitterness. The overall impression is of someone who has experienced enough loss to feel deeply for those he cared about, striving to honor them in a genuine way rather than a sentimental one.
Symbols & metaphors
- Generous wine — The friends' conversation is likened to wine that flows freely and nourishes the soul. This implies that their discussion was enjoyable, engaging, and shared openly — much like how fine wine enhances a meal, it enriched Longfellow's life.
- Elysian lands — In Greek mythology, Elysium is the paradise where the virtuous go after death. By placing his friends there, Longfellow honors their goodness and envisions them as still alive, still together, and still able to remember him — which eases the harsh reality of death.
- Poseidon in the purple sea / Jason's fleece of gold — These mythological visions reflect the friend's remarkable imagination. He didn't just understand the myths on an intellectual level—he experienced them in the world around him. The sea and the sunset serve as gateways to ancient times, demonstrating how deeply he engaged with the Greek spirit.
- Attic bees — Bees have long been a symbol for poets and philosophers, representing eloquence and the sweetness of wisdom. Longfellow suggests that his friend would have drawn in the greatest minds of ancient Greece, much like flowers attract bees.
- Stretching hands — The act of reaching out to grasp a hand that isn't there serves as the poem's clearest symbol of grief. It turns absence into a physical experience — not just an abstract loss, but something that can be felt in the arms and hands.
- Cruel Death — Death is depicted as an agent with intentions, and Longfellow refers to it as "cruel" for taking someone who was vibrant and full of life before reaching old age. By personifying death, Longfellow channels his grief outward, portraying the loss as an act against his friend rather than just an event that occurred.
Historical context
Longfellow wrote these sonnets to mourn three close friends: poet and professor Cornelius Conway Felton, novelist Nathaniel Hawthorne, and senator and scholar Charles Sumner. By the time he created this sequence in the 1870s, Longfellow was in his sixties and had faced significant personal loss, including the tragic death of his second wife in a fire in 1861. The second sonnet is often thought to be about Felton, a Harvard professor of Greek known for his passionate enthusiasm for classical antiquity. Longfellow, who was deeply immersed in European literary tradition and wrote extensively in classical forms, found the Petrarchan sonnet structure—where the octave presents a problem and the sestet explores resolution or complication—perfectly suited to his reflective, elegiac intent.
FAQ
The three friends are usually recognized as Cornelius Conway Felton, a Harvard professor of Greek; Nathaniel Hawthorne, the novelist; and Charles Sumner, the senator and abolitionist. All three passed away before Longfellow, who expressed his grief for them in this sonnet sequence composed in the 1870s.
Sonnet II is likely addressed to Cornelius Conway Felton, known at Harvard for his enthusiastic and joyful appreciation of ancient Greek culture. The portrayal of someone who glimpsed Poseidon in the sea and Jason's fleece in the sunset aligns perfectly with Felton's knack for making Greek mythology come alive.
It refers to someone who loves or admires Greek culture, language, and history. Longfellow uses it to express deep affection and respect, implying that his friend embodied the spirit of Greece, even if he wasn't born there.
Elysium, also known as the Elysian Fields, is the paradise in Greek mythology where virtuous souls find rest after death. By envisioning his friends wandering there together, Longfellow taps into the classical tradition they cherished — it's an ideal afterlife for men who held ancient Greece in high regard.
He's saying that his friend embodied the essence of Greek culture and values so completely that ancient Greece would have felt like home to him. Attica is the area surrounding Athens, while the Ionian Isles and Cyclades are groups of Greek islands — all central to classical civilization. This is the greatest compliment Longfellow can give to someone who cherished that world.
Both are Petrarchan (Italian) sonnets — each consisting of 14 lines, with an octave (8 lines) followed by a sestet (6 lines). In Sonnet I, the octave honors the friends, while the sestet shifts to themes of grief and consolation. In Sonnet II, the octave highlights the friend's Greek spirit, and the sestet addresses his untimely death. The rhyme scheme adheres to the classic Petrarchan structure.
It's a tangible expression of grief — Longfellow instinctively reaches out for those who are no longer present. This gesture illustrates how loss is experienced physically, not just emotionally. You stretch out for someone out of habit or yearning, and the emptiness you encounter brings the loss into sharp focus.
The rhetorical question — 'what hadst thou to do with cruel Death?' — doesn’t seek an answer as none would be satisfactory. It conveys the sense that the death of his friend was fundamentally unjust, highlighting the contrast between a life brimming with vitality and the reality of dying young. By leaving it as a question, the injustice lingers with the reader instead of being neatly resolved.