When Bony Death

John Masefield's When Bony Death

John Masefield’s When Bony Death is a haunting meditation on mortality, love, and the enduring power of art to preserve beauty beyond the ravages of time. Written in the early 20th century, the poem reflects both the Romantic preoccupation with death and decay and the Victorian fascination with memorialization. Masefield, best known as a poet laureate and for his sea-faring narratives, here turns inward, crafting a lyrical yet somber reflection on the inevitable dissolution of the physical body and the hope that poetry might defy oblivion.

This essay will explore the poem’s thematic concerns, its rich use of imagery and metaphor, and its emotional resonance within the broader context of Masefield’s oeuvre and early modernist poetry. Additionally, we will consider how the poem engages with philosophical questions about legacy, the transience of human life, and the redemptive potential of artistic creation.

Themes of Mortality and Decay

The poem’s central theme is the confrontation with death—not as an abstract concept, but as a visceral, almost grotesque force. The opening line, “When bony Death has chilled her gentle blood,” immediately personifies death as a skeletal figure, a traditional representation that evokes both medieval memento mori imagery and the Danse Macabre tradition. The contrast between “gentle blood” and “bony Death” underscores the fragility of life against the relentless, unfeeling nature of mortality.

Masefield’s depiction of decay is unflinching: the beloved’s beauty is transformed into “mud” by Death’s “old skill in hateful wizardries.” This phrasing suggests that Death is not merely a natural process but an active, malevolent force, a sorcerer who perverts beauty into something repulsive. The imagery here is strikingly physical, forcing the reader to confront the corporeal reality of decomposition.

The second stanza shifts from the body’s decay to its memorialization. The “old lichened marble” of the grave marker, worn by time and weather, becomes a feeble attempt to capture the beloved’s essence. The phrase “strives to tell” implies the futility of stone to convey the vitality of the person it commemorates. Meanwhile, the “rheumy grey-beards” who claim, “I knew her well,” serve as a reminder that memory itself is fallible, subject to the distortions of age and time. The grave becomes a site of “curious worshippers,” suggesting a posthumous reverence that is both reverent and voyeuristic—a theme that resonates with Thomas Hardy’s meditations on forgotten graves and the erosion of personal legacy.

The Impermanence of Love and Nature’s Cycles

The third stanza introduces a botanical metaphor: the roses that the beloved “sowed in me” have now “dripped their crimson petals and decayed.” The heart, imagined as a garden, once flourished under her care but is now barren, “leaving no greenery.” This imagery aligns with the carpe diem tradition of 17th-century lyric poetry, where flowers often symbolize the fleeting nature of beauty and love. However, Masefield’s treatment is more despairing than celebratory—there is no exhortation to seize the day, only an acknowledgment of irrevocable loss.

The decay of the roses also evokes the myth of Persephone, whose annual return from the underworld brings spring, while her absence brings winter. Yet in Masefield’s poem, there is no promise of renewal; the garden remains lifeless, reinforcing the finality of death. This stands in contrast to the Romantic tradition, where nature often serves as a cyclical counterpoint to human mortality. Here, nature’s cycles only emphasize the beloved’s irrevocable absence.

Art as a Defiance of Time

The final couplet introduces a plea to “old Time”:

“Then grant, old Time, to my green mouldering skull,
These songs may keep her memory beautiful.”

Here, the speaker shifts from despair to a fragile hope. The phrase “green mouldering skull” is particularly striking—green suggests both decay (as in mold) and lingering life (as in vegetation), a paradoxical image that captures the tension between death and preservation. The skull, a classic memento mori symbol, is not just a relic of death but a vessel that might yet hold meaning.

The “songs” are positioned as the only force capable of resisting time’s erosion. Unlike the lichened marble or the fading memories of the grey-beards, poetry endures. This assertion aligns with the ancient Horatian notion of monumentum aere perennius (a monument more lasting than bronze), the idea that art outlasts physical memorials. Shakespeare’s sonnets, particularly Sonnet 18 (“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”), make a similar claim—that verse immortalizes beauty where nature cannot. Masefield’s poem, however, is more somber; there is no triumphant declaration of eternal fame, only a plea. The conditional “grant” suggests uncertainty, as if the speaker knows that even poetry may not be impervious to oblivion.

Historical and Biographical Context

Masefield wrote during a period of profound cultural upheaval—the early 20th century, marked by World War I and the decline of Victorian certainties. While When Bony Death does not explicitly engage with war, its preoccupation with mortality resonates with the era’s collective trauma. The poem’s tone—elegiac yet unsentimental—mirrors the modernist disillusionment with Romantic idealism.

Biographically, Masefield experienced significant personal loss early in life, including the death of his mother when he was six. His works often return to themes of grief and memory, and When Bony Death can be read as part of this broader meditation on how we cope with loss. Unlike his more narrative-driven poems, this piece is introspective, almost metaphysical in its confrontation with death.

Comparative Readings

The poem invites comparison with other works that grapple with art’s capacity to preserve memory. Keats’ Ode on a Grecian Urn presents art as a frozen moment, eternally beautiful but lifeless; Masefield’s approach is less idealized, acknowledging decay even within the act of preservation. Christina Rossetti’s Remember similarly explores memory and oblivion, though her speaker urges forgetfulness for the sake of the beloved’s happiness, whereas Masefield’s speaker clings to remembrance as the only consolation.

A more contemporary parallel might be found in Philip Larkin’s An Arundel Tomb, where the famous line “What will survive of us is love” echoes Masefield’s hope, though Larkin’s tone is more skeptical. Both poets question whether any form of legacy is truly enduring, but where Larkin’s conclusion is ambiguous, Masefield’s leans toward cautious affirmation.

Conclusion: The Fragile Triumph of Art

When Bony Death is a poem of contradictions—between decay and preservation, despair and hope, the corporeal and the artistic. Masefield does not offer easy solace; even the final plea to Time is tinged with uncertainty. Yet in its very articulation, the poem enacts its own argument: by giving voice to loss, it resists silence. The “songs” may not conquer death, but they offer a fleeting victory, a way to keep memory “beautiful” even as the body returns to dust.

In this way, Masefield’s poem speaks to a universal human longing—to be remembered, to leave something behind. Its power lies in its honesty: it acknowledges the inevitability of decay while still reaching, however tentatively, for transcendence. For readers across generations, that tension—between mortality and art, between oblivion and remembrance—remains profoundly moving. Poetry, Masefield suggests, is our frail but defiant answer to the “bony” grip of Death.