Edward Shanks’s speaker begins with an idealized picture: a well-made sonnet as a graceful, confident ship sailing a calm blue sea, built from chosen words and filled with melody. Then he turns to his own writing, which he sees as a clumsy, leaky boat barely staying afloat on rough water. The contrast sharpens when an “arrogant great wave” swamps the bow and leaves him drifting into a storm. The speaker feels humble and anxious, admitting he has patience and endurance but no real courage or strength. The mood is uneasy and self-critical, yet not entirely hopeless—he does not know how far his fragile craft will carry him, but he keeps moving across the huge, angry sea. That uncertainty creates a quiet, worried tension throughout the poem.
The Complaints X — Summary
The well-made sonnet takes the azure sea Proud in her beauty as a halcyon, Her timbers chosen words, and melody Filling her sails of rhyme. She passes on In majesty and calm, but these my lines Are like a crazy and a leaky boat, Clumsily made of warped and twisted pines That hardly on the troubled waters float. Now comes an arrogant great wave ahead That swamps the blunted bow and spumes along ; Into the storm I drift in doubt and dread, Patient, not brave, enduring but not strong. I know not on this huge and angry sea How far my wretched ship can carry me.