Anna Wickham’s speaker mourns pretty women who marry dull men, move to the suburbs, and slowly lose their beauty and spark. Their children only repeat old family types, not anything new. The speaker feels frustration and pity, blaming a lack of courage and organization rather than the women themselves. The mood shifts from sadness into a playful, defiant fantasy: she imagines setting the young wives loose in a sunny common, taking away their dull clothes, and letting them choose their own mates freely. Pipers would play while they dance with Love. From those joyful, chosen unions, she dreams of a new race of beautiful, thrilling people. It is a rebellious protest against respectable, passionless marriage, insisting that frank, joyful love is worth pursuing even if the world punishes it.
Meditation at Kew — Summary
Alas! for all the pretty women who marry dull men, Go into the suburbs and never come out again, Who lose their pretty faces, and dim their pretty eyes, Because no one has skill or courage to organize.
What do these pretty women suffer when they marry? They bear a boy who is like Uncle Harry, A girl, who is like Aunt Eliza, and not new, These old, dull races must breed true.
I would enclose a common in the sun, And let the young wives out to laugh and run; I would steal their dull clothes and go away, And leave the pretty naked things to play.
Then I would make a contract with hard Fate That they see all the men in the world and choose a mate, And I would summon all the pipers in the town That they dance with Love at a feast, and dance him down.
From the gay unions of choice We'd have a race of splendid beauty, and of thrilling voice. The World whips frank, gay love with rods, But frankly gaily shall we get the gods.