Phillis Wheatley

Phillis Wheatley

1753–1784 · lived 31 years -- --

Phillis Wheatley was an enslaved African woman who became the first African American author of a published book of poetry in the United States. Despite the immense limitations imposed by slavery and societal prejudice, her work demonstrated remarkable literary skill and intellectual depth. Her poems, often neoclassical in style, explored themes of freedom, religion, and the African experience, challenging prevailing racist notions of the time and paving the way for future Black writers.

n. 1753-05-08, Senegal · m. 1784-12-05, Boston

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To the Rt. Hon. William, Earl of Dartmouth

To the Rt. Hon. William, Earl of Dartmouth
Hail, happy day, when, smiling like the morn,
Fair Freedom rose New-England to adorn:
The northern clime beneath her genial ray,
Dartmouth, congratulates thy blissful sway:
Elate with hope her race no longer mourns,
Each soul expands, each grateful bosom burns,
While in thine hand with pleasure we behold
The silken reins, and Freedom's charms unfold.
Long lost to realms beneath the northern skies
She shines supreme, while hated faction dies:
Soon as appear'd the Goddess long desir'd,
Sick at the view, she languish'd and expir'd;
Thus from the splendors of the morning light
The owl in sadness seeks the caves of night.
No more, America, in mournful strain
Of wrongs, and grievance unredress'd complain,
No longer shalt thou dread the iron chain,
Which wanton Tyranny with lawless hand
Had made, and with it meant t' enslave the land.
Should you, my lord, while you peruse my song,
Wonder from whence my love of Freedom sprung,
Whence flow these wishes for the common good,
By feeling hearts alone best understood,
I, young in life, by seeming cruel fate
Was snatch'd from Afric's fancy'd happy seat:
What pangs excruciating must molest,
What sorrows labour in my parent's breast?
Steel'd was that soul and by no misery mov'd
That from a father seiz'd his babe belov'd:
Such, such my case. And can I then but pray
Others may never feel tyrannic sway?
For favours past, great Sir, our thanks are due,
And thee we ask thy favours to renew,
Since in thy pow'r, as in thy will before,
To sooth the griefs, which thou did'st once deplore.
May heav'nly grace the sacred sanction give
To all thy works, and thou for ever live
Not only on the wings of fleeting Fame,
Though praise immortal crowns the patriot's name,
But to conduct to heav'ns refulgent fane,
May fiery coursers sweep th' ethereal plain,
And bear thee upwards to that blest abode,
Where, like the prophet, thou shalt find thy God.
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Bio

Identification and basic context

Phillis Wheatley Peters, commonly known as Phillis Wheatley, was an American poet of African descent. She was born in West Africa, likely in the Gambia region, around 1753. She was brought to America as a slave and purchased by the Wheatley family of Boston. She died in Boston on December 5, 1784. Her family background is unknown due to her enslavement, but she was of Senegambian origin. She was enslaved for most of her life and wrote in English. Her life and work took place during the pre-Revolutionary and Revolutionary periods of American history, a time of intense debate over liberty and enslavement.

Childhood and education

Wheatley was kidnapped from her home in West Africa at a young age, likely around seven years old. She was transported across the Atlantic in the Middle Passage and sold into slavery to John Wheatley in Boston. The Wheatley family, particularly Susanna Wheatley, recognized her intelligence and provided her with an exceptional education, including Latin and Greek, literature, and the Bible. This education was highly unusual for an enslaved person at the time. Her early influences were the classical texts she studied and the religious teachings of her enslavers.

Literary trajectory

Wheatley began writing poetry at a young age. Her first published poem appeared in the *Newport Mercury* in 1767. Her literary success culminated in the publication of 'Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral' in London in 1773, making her the first African American to publish a book of poetry. This achievement was extraordinary, as she had to prove her authorship to skeptical white audiences. She also contributed poems to newspapers and other publications. She did not engage significantly in literary criticism or translation.

Works, style, and literary characteristics

Her major work is 'Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral' (1773). Dominant themes include religious faith, virtue, liberty, the African experience, and reflections on life and death. Her style is largely neoclassical, characterized by rhyming couplets, iambic pentameter, and formal diction, reflecting her classical education. Her poetic voice is often eloquent and reasoned, though it carries the implicit critique of slavery through its very existence and intellectual merit. Her language is refined and elevated. Wheatley's innovation lay in her existence as a Black poet in America, challenging racial stereotypes through her literary accomplishments.

Cultural and historical context

Wheatley's life and work are inextricably linked to the context of colonial America and the growing abolitionist sentiment. She lived during a period when the hypocrisy of fighting for American liberty while upholding slavery was becoming increasingly apparent. Her ability to publish a book of poetry was a significant event that drew attention to the intellectual capabilities of enslaved people. She was a contemporary of figures like Benjamin Franklin and George Washington, with whom she corresponded. She belonged to no specific literary movement but operated within the broader Neoclassical tradition.

Personal life

Wheatley's personal life was defined by her enslaved status, though she experienced a degree of freedom and intellectual engagement within the Wheatley household. She formed a close bond with Susanna Wheatley. After gaining her freedom, she married John Peters, a free Black man. Her later life was marked by hardship, including financial struggles and the loss of her children. Her personal experiences of enslavement, the yearning for freedom, and her religious convictions profoundly shaped her poetry.

Recognition and reception

Wheatley received considerable recognition during her lifetime, both in America and Great Britain. Her trip to London was facilitated by the Wheatleys to promote her book. She received praise from prominent figures, including Benjamin Franklin and the Earl of Dartmouth. However, she also faced skepticism about her authorship, necessitating a document signed by prominent Bostonians attesting to her abilities. Her place in American literature is foundational as the first African American poet. Her reception has evolved from an anomaly to a celebrated literary figure.

Influences and legacy

Wheatley was influenced by classical poets like Homer and Virgil, as well as Enlightenment thinkers and the Bible. Her legacy is immense as a pioneering figure who broke racial barriers in American literature. She inspired subsequent generations of African American writers and poets, proving that Black individuals possessed intellectual and artistic capabilities. Her work continues to be studied for its literary merit and its historical significance.

Interpretation and critical analysis

Wheatley's poetry is often analyzed for its subtle critiques of slavery, its exploration of religious themes, and its engagement with the ideals of the American Revolution. Critical debates sometimes focus on the extent to which her work directly challenged the institution of slavery versus her more restrained expressions.

Curiosities and lesser-known aspects

A curious aspect of Wheatley's life is the extraordinary educational opportunities afforded to her while enslaved. Her journey to London to publish her book was a significant undertaking. Despite gaining freedom, her later years were marked by poverty, a stark contrast to the intellectual acclaim she had received earlier.

Death and memory

Phillis Wheatley died in poverty in Boston in 1784, shortly after giving birth to her third child, who also died. Her memory is honored through her enduring literary work, which has been revived and celebrated, ensuring her place as a crucial figure in American literary history.

Poems

33

A Funeral Poem On The Death Of C. E. An Infant Of Twelve Months

A Funeral Poem On The Death Of C. E. An Infant Of Twelve Months
THROUGH airy roads he wings his instant flight
To purer regions of celestial light;
Enlarg'd he sees unnumber'd systems roll,
Beneath him sees the universal whole,
Planets on planets run their destin'd round,
And circling wonders fill the vast profound.
Th' ethereal now, and now th' empyreal skies
With growing splendors strike his wond'ring eyes:
The angels view him with delight unknown,
Press his soft hand, and seat him on his throne;
Then smilling thus: "To this divine abode,
"The seat of saints, of seraphs, and of God,
"Thrice welcome thou." The raptur'd babe replies,
"Thanks to my God, who snatch'd me to the skies,
"E'er vice triumphant had possess'd my heart,
"E'er yet the tempter had beguil d my heart,
"E'er yet on sin's base actions I was bent,
"E'er yet I knew temptation's dire intent;
"E'er yet the lash for horrid crimes I felt,
"E'er vanity had led my way to guilt,
"But, soon arriv'd at my celestial goal,
"Full glories rush on my expanding soul."
Joyful he spoke: exulting cherubs round
Clapt their glad wings, the heav'nly vaults resound.
Say, parents, why this unavailing moan?
Why heave your pensive bosoms with the groan?
To Charles, the happy subject of my song,
A brighter world, and nobler strains belong.
Say would you tear him from the realms above
By thoughtless wishes, and prepost'rous love?
Doth his felicity increase your pain?
Or could you welcome to this world again
The heir of bliss? with a superior air
Methinks he answers with a smile severe,
"Thrones and dominions cannot tempt me there."
But still you cry, "Can we the sigh borbear,
"And still and still must we not pour the tear?
"Our only hope, more dear than vital breath,
"Twelve moons revolv'd, becomes the prey of death;
"Delightful infant, nightly visions give
"Thee to our arms, and we with joy receive,
"We fain would clasp the Phantom to our breast,
"The Phantom flies, and leaves the soul unblest."
To yon bright regions let your faith ascend,
Prepare to join your dearest infant friend
In pleasures without measure, without end.
250

And veil her charms around.

And veil her charms around.
X.
Why, Phoebus, moves thy car so slow?
So slow thy rising ray?
Give us the famous town to view,
Thou glorious king of day!
XI.
For thee, Britannia, I resign
New-England's smiling fields;
To view again her charms divine,
What joy the prospect yields!
XII.
But thou! Temptation hence away,
With all thy fatal train,
Nor once seduce my soul away,
By thine enchanting strain.
XIII.
Thrice happy they, whose heav'nly shield
Secures their souls from harms,
And fell Temptation on the field
Of all its pow'r disarms!
199

A Farewell to America

A Farewell to America
I.
Adieu, New-England's smiling meads,
Adieu, the flow'ry plain:
I leave thine op'ning charms, O spring,
And tempt the roaring main.
II.
In vain for me the flow'rets rise,
And boast their gaudy pride,
While here beneath the northern skies
I mourn for health deny'd.
III.
Celestial maid of rosy hue,
O let me feel thy reign!
I languish till thy face I view,
Thy vanish'd joys regain.
IV.
Susanna mourns, nor can I bear
To see the crystal show'r,
Or mark the tender falling tear
At sad departure's hour;
V.
Not unregarding can I see
Her soul with grief opprest:
But let no sighs, no groans for me,
Steal from her pensive breast.
VI.
In vain the feather'd warblers sing,
In vain the garden blooms,
And on the bosom of the spring
Breathes out her sweet perfumes.
VII.
While for Britannia's distant shore
We sweep the liquid plain,
And with astonish'd eyes explore
The wide-extended main.
VIII.
Lo! Health appears! celestial dame!


Complacent and serene,
With Hebe's mantle o'er her Frame,
With soul-delighting mien.
IX.
To mark the vale where London lies
With misty vapours crown'd,
Which cloud Aurora's thousand dyes,
And veil her charms around.
X.
Why, Phoebus, moves thy car so slow?
So slow thy rising ray?
Give us the famous town to view,
Thou glorious king of day!
XI.
For thee, Britannia, I resign
New-England's smiling fields;
To view again her charms divine,
What joy the prospect yields!
XII.
But thou! Temptation hence away,
With all thy fatal train,
Nor once seduce my soul away,
By thine enchanting strain.
XIII.
Thrice happy they, whose heav'nly shield
Secures their souls from harms,
And fell Temptation on the field
Of all its pow'r disarms!
413

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