Get out the microscope, because we’re going through this poem line-by-line.
Lines 46-48
(Nor for you, for one alone,
Blossoms and branches green to coffins all I bring,
For fresh as the morning, thus would I chant a song for you O sane and sacred death.
- By Section 7, we're reminded that the speaker isn't just sharing that lilac with only one coffin. Oh no. He's sharing it with all coffins. (You get sprig of lilac, you get sprig of lilac…)So every coffin, dead person, and mourner is reminded of life's continuance.
- We even have some more alliteration in line 47: "Blossoms and branches." The speaker sounds more songlike, as if spirits are looking up at this point.
- And then again we see more alliteration in line 48: "song," "sane," "sacred." Phew, our speaker is outdoing himself. But it kind of makes sense that at this point we'd see more poetic devices since the speaker is looking to console folks. Nothing says consolation like a singsong sound.
- (Try saying that six times fast.) The symbolism of a "fresh morning" also furthers the speaker's spirit of new days and life's continuance. We're starting to get a break of dawn amid all the gloom.
- We also are beginning to see the speaker's less severe tone towards death, since he calls it "sane and sacred." It's not every day you hear death talked about in such a nice way, so we really get the sense of the speaker seeking the good amid the bad.
Lines 49-50
All over bouquets of roses,
O death, I cover you over with roses and early lilies,
- Death is pretty much being smothered by flowers here. Yeah, take that, death.
- But symbolically, the speaker is alerting us to life's resilience that will always "cover over" death. The repeated "over" tells us that death can't hide from life's persistent energy. The cycle continues and the roses and lilies come back every year to remind us of that.
- We're also getting more of the speaker speaking directly to death via apostrophe (addressing abstract ideas or things that aren't physically present). As readers, we're observers of this little dialogue (even if death isn't speaking back). But we also feel somewhat empowered by the speaker's actions here. It's as if he's covering up death for us, since we're included in the mourners' suffering at this point.
Lines 51-54
But mostly and now the lilac that blooms the first,
Copious I break, I break the sprigs from the bushes,
With loaded arms I come, pouring for you,
For you and the coffins all of you O death.)
- It looks like the speaker is really into the whole "breaking sprigs of lilacs and pouring them over death" thing. There's not just one lilac anymore, but "copious" amounts (lots of 'em) that the speaker has.
- And he's breaking them off bushes left and right. With "loaded arms" he comes pouring for everyone, including the mourners, the dead, and us. Mighty generous, eh?
- But there's more going on here than just our speaker breaking off lilacs like it's going out of style. On a more symbolic level, we sense the speaker's outpouring of empathy. He's not just rattling off useless words of consolation. He's spreading the only symbol for life's perseverance that he has at his disposal. And he's doing it all in a rather sincere way. These aren't just empty actions, in other words.
- We feel his sincerity most in the image of his "loaded arms" and the act of "pouring" lilacs in line 53. Maybe we can even imagine an eager young lover, doing the same sort of thing with roses for the one he loves dearly. There aren't enough roses around to prove his love, just like there aren't enough lilacs around for the speaker to extend his empathy. He feels that strongly for the mourners and of course his own grief.
- The repetition of "you" also serves to further the speaker's empathy and consolation. It's as if he's speaking directly to the mourners and us readers all at the same time. There's no need to distinguish a particular audience because we're all unified in this space of mourning.