Love is a complex and multifaceted emotion that can take many forms. One way of experiencing love is through self-love, or the act of showing compassion, understanding, and acceptance towards oneself.
Self-love is an important foundation for healthy relationships with others. When we prioritize our own well-being and care for ourselves, we are better able to give and receive love from others. This can involve taking care of our physical and emotional needs, setting boundaries, and learning to communicate openly and honestly with ourselves and others.
Self-love also involves being kind and forgiving towards ourselves. We all make mistakes and have flaws, and it is important to recognize and accept these rather than dwelling on them or being too hard on ourselves. This means learning to let go of negative self-talk and instead focusing on our strengths and positive qualities.
One way to practice self-love is through self-care activities such as exercise, meditation, or engaging in hobbies and activities that bring us joy. It can also involve seeking support and guidance from trusted friends, family, or mental health professionals when needed.
Ultimately, self-love is about being in a healthy and positive relationship with ourselves. It allows us to have a more balanced and fulfilling life, and it can also improve our relationships with others by helping us to be more understanding, compassionate, and confident. By learning to love ourselves, we can open ourselves up to loving and being loved by others in a deeper and more meaningful way.
One Way of Love Summary
He strews roses upon the path, vainly wishing that she might notice them. Apparently they are addressed by the speaker to the speaker, as if he is engaged in a kind of one-sided conversation with himself. The crowd cheered like mad when I dragged him out. There was no waking him, it was lift him or leave him, and somehow or other I got him out; but that minute I'd given to listening to Satan had very nearly chucked us both to our death, and we only just come off by the skin of our teeth. We believe that no person is disposable. To-day I venture all I know. There she was, sure enough, in her Sunday muslin with the violet sprig, and her black silk jacket with the bugles, and her arm was round Joe Wheeler's neck--confound him! And one night there was a fire in a street off the Borough--a high house it was,--and I went up the ladder to a window where there was a woman screaming, and directly I see her face I see it was Jenny.
Then says she, 'Jenny'll never forgive me if I tell you. That fire had sobered Wheeler more than twenty thousand temperance tracts, and all the Sons of the Phoenix and Bands of Hope rolled into one. His mother was a devoutly religious woman and an accomplished pianist. Then I began to notice Jenny didn't seem to care so much about walking out, and one Sunday afternoon she said she had a headache and would rather stay at home by the fire; for it was early spring, and the days chilly. Break the string; fold music's wing: Suppose Pauline had bade me sing! In the second stanza, the young man describes his feverish attempts to learn to play the lute, hoping that the music might catch her ear and draw her to him. If the speaker knows why she rejects him, he never explicitly says so. Orphaned at a young age, she has lived with her grandmother until the old lady dies, at which point Mariana decides to move to New York.
Rather than turning bitter, however, he remains remarkably magnanimous and good-natured. The chance was they might take her eye. O Tom, forgive me, or I shall go mad, I know I shall! In them, a would-be lover describes his frustrated efforts to court a woman named Pauline. Mariana Clare, born in the Deep South of the United States, is a romantic child and a great reader of fairy tales, which convince her of the existence of eternal love. And I should have been a soldier right enough but that I fell in with a fireman, and he persuaded me to go in for that business, which is just as exciting as a soldier's, and a great deal more dangerous, most times.
One Way of Love by Robert Browning. Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. 1895. A Victorian Anthology, 1837
See eNotes Ad-Free Start your 48-hour free trial to get access to more than 30,000 additional guides and more than 350,000 Homework Help questions answered by our experts. Then I began to notice Jenny didn't seem to care so much about walking out, and one Sunday afternoon she said she had a headache and would rather stay at home by the fire; for it was early spring, and the days chilly. It is partly this mystery that gives the poem its appeal. So no more at present from your sincere well-wisher TOM. I was burned awfully bad, and such good looks as I'd had burnt off me, and I didn't know nothing plainly for many a long day. I must ask Jenny.
Then, the next thing I knew, there was a cracking under my feet and the boards giving way, and I sprang across to Wheeler all in a minute, as anxious to save him as if he'd been my own twin brother. A Victorian Anthology, 1837ā1895. Amelia and me took a turn by ourselves, and when we got back to Teesdale's farm, there was Jenny, wonderfully brisked up, talking and laughing away with young Wheeler, whose father keeps the post-office. There he was, lying on the bed, drunk. Let bygones be bygones, and marry me as soon as I come out of this, for it's worth something to be loved as you've loved me, Amelia, and I was always fond of you. Jenny was not in the house, but Amelia was.
I fetched her down the ladder right enough, and she clung round my neck she didn't know me from Adam , and said: 'Oh, go back and fetch my husband. Leave him be, and you can marry Jenny, and let bygones be bygones'; and I stood there half a minute, quite still, with the smoke getting thick round me. Now Jenny--her name was Jane, but we called her Jenny for short--she had a cousin Amelia, who was apprenticed to the millinery and dress-making in Maidstone; the two had been brought up together from little things, and they was that fond of each other it was a pleasure to see them together. But I had swore, and I turned sharp and walked away, and I never went up to Teesdale's nor to my father's farm, but I went straight back to Pound's, the man I was bound to, and I wrote a letter to Jenny and one to Amelia, and in Amelia's I only said-- 'DEAR AMELIA,--Thank you very much; you were quite right. And if this was a made-up story, Amelia would have had to drowned herself or something, and I should have gone a-weeping and a-wailing for Jenny all my born days; but as it's true and really happened, Amelia and me have been punished enough, I think; for eight years of unhappiness is only a few words of print in a story-book, but when you've got to live them, every day of them, eight years is eight years, as Amelia and I shall remember till our dying day; and eight years unhappiness is enough punishment for most of the wrong things a man can do, or a woman either for that matter. Pretty as a pink Jenny was, and neat in her ways, and would make me a good wife, every one said, even my own mother; and when a man's mother owns that about a girl he may know he's got hold of a treasure. To whom are these questions addressed? And when I come to myself I was in a hospital, and there was a sweet-faced charity sister sitting looking at me, and, by the Lord, if it wasn't Amelia! How many a month I strove to suit These stubborn fingers to the lute! This hour my utmost art I prove And speak my passionāheaven or hell? And one night there was a fire in a street off the Borough--a high house it was,--and I went up the ladder to a window where there was a woman screaming, and directly I see her face I see it was Jenny.
The citation above will include either 2 or 3 dates. Written in the early 1930s, it was accepted for publication and then withdrawn, apparently because the publishers got nervous after the successful prosecution of The Well of Loneliness. There she was, sure enough, in her Sunday muslin with the violet sprig, and her black silk jacket with the bugles, and her arm was round Joe Wheeler's neck--confound him! The chance was they might take her eye. You run away from your articles and turned fireman, and Jenny married to a drunken brute--no, Tom, no! I was in the hairdressing then, and serving my time, so it was only on Sundays or an evening that I could get out. But if I tell you where to find them, you swear you won't speak or make a fuss, because she'd know I'd told you? I must ask Jenny. He begins by relating that for the entire month of June a month often associated with love , he carefully tended to a rose bush, hoping to use its beauty to attract the affection of Pauline. So it was not till 1987 that it finally saw the light of day, published by Virago.
He never touched a drop of drink since that day, and Jenny's as happy as her kind ever is. But Jenny, she don't care for you no more; it's Joe Wheeler as she fancies now, and she's out with him this very minute, as here we stand. It was early summer by this time, and the evenings long. She died in Spain in 1968 of cancer, and is buried at the English Cemetery, Malaga. Perhaps she has good reasons; perhaps she would be indifferent to anyone; perhaps she is conceited; perhaps.
What is an analysis of "One Way of Love" by Robert Browning?
To-day I venture all I know. Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves And strew them where Pauline may pass. I was not best pleased, I can tell you, but I kept a still tongue in my head; only, as time went on, I couldn't help seeing Jenny didn't seem to be at all the same to me, and Amelia seemed sad, too. I fetched her down the ladder right enough, and she clung round my neck she didn't know me from Adam , and said: 'Oh, go back and fetch my husband. Then says she, 'Jenny'll never forgive me if I tell you. I don't deserve to be happy; but, if you forgive me, I shan't be as miserable as I was. And Wheeler wanted Jenny, and so I was tempted to play off that trick on you; I thought you would come round to me after.
Jenny was not in the house, but Amelia was. Patterns on the Sand published by The Sundial Press in 2012 recalls her South Carolina childhood; One Way of Love, accepted by Gollancz in 1930 but suppressed at the last minute because of its sexual explicitness, was published by Virago Press in 1987. I knew Jenny didn't rightly care about you, Tom, and I loved you so dear. I don't think any man need envy me what I felt as I walked about the lanes waiting till it was time to walk up to the church and find out for certain that I'd been made a fool of. I was not best pleased, I can tell you, but I kept a still tongue in my head; only, as time went on, I couldn't help seeing Jenny didn't seem to be at all the same to me, and Amelia seemed sad, too. In each case, however, his ultimate attitude is surprisingly good-natured and stoic.
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