The speaker remembers once striking someone she loved—maybe physically, maybe with cruel words—and feeling immediate remorse. While that person lived, forgiveness seems to have quieted the guilt for years. But now the person is dead, and the old wrong can no longer be soothed or repaired. The blow the speaker once gave comes back like a ghost and lands on her own heart. All excuses and memories of the loved one’s small faults fade, leaving only the stark fact of what she did. The poem creates a haunted, sorrowful mood: regret that cannot be put right, because the chance for forgiveness or repair has died. The repeated line “I struck you once—and now you’re lying dead” makes the guilt feel inescapable.
The Blow Returned — Summary
I STRUCK you once, I do remember well. Hard on the track of passion sorrow sped, And swift repentance, weeping for the blow ; I struck you once — and now you're lying dead !
Now you are gone the blow no longer sleeps In your forgiveness hushed through all the years ; But like a phantom haunts me through the dark, To cry, " You gave your own beloved tears."
Stript now of all excuses, stern and stark. With all your small transgressings dimmed or fled, The ghost returns the blow upon my heart. I struck you once — and now you're lying dead.