The Poetry Woodland Series: "The Building"
Public domain poetry readings & analysis. Vol. 2 | Frances Ellen Watkins Harper's poems 🪶
The Building*
by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
"Build me a house," said the Master,
"But not on the shifting sand,
Mid the wreck and roar of tempests,
A house that will firmly stand.
"I will bring thee windows of agates,
And gates of carbuncles bright,
And thy fairest courts and portals
Shall be filled with love and light.
"Thou shalt build with fadeless rubies,
All fashioned around the throne,
A house that shall last forever,
With Christ as the cornerstone.*This poem is in the public domain!
Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (September 24, 1825 - February 22, 1911) was a poet, journalist, teacher, activist, and fiction writer born free in Baltimore. Frequently thought of as the mother of Black journalism in the US, she wrote for many anti-slavery and abolitionist newspapers and published several books and collections. This blurb hardly scratches the surface, so please read more about her incredible work and life here and here.
When I first read this poem, I had to research what carbuncle meant (specifically for a building) and was met with The Carbuncle Cup: “Raising a toast to the worst new building in Britain.” I literally laughed out loud. What are the odds? Of course, there’s Frances Ellen Watkins Harper’s version of an ugly building and then there is Britain’s version…a tangent for another day…
As always, there’s so much depth beneath the surface/first reading of her poems. “Shifting sands” are a potential reference to colonialism’s impact in the SWANA/MENA region, but more specifically, they note a reluctance to change and preference for consistent control “all fashioned around the throne.” I think of fascism, dictatorships, empires, and how this poem continues to echo the global political climate 150 years after it was written (this is a rough figuring—I can’t seem to find when exactly the poem was published).
Supposedly, this type of house will last forever, which is why the poem is brilliantly titled The Building. Further, intriguingly, there is subtle blame toward (or perhaps a punting to) Christ as an everlasting cornerstone—a Simon Says—acknowledging how religions are weaponized.
On somewhat of a tangent, this poem reminded me of how biomimicry can inspire architecture, cityscapes, and urban planning, including the vast difference between this and other forms of mimicry (check out this epic class with Adib Dada: Living Systems: Planting Liberation).
An insulative building that only stands to provide ignorance, portals, and escapism amidst roaring tempests (not just climate change-related storms but protests, pain, and suffering) is the one that will fall, no matter how many countries it simultaneously sits upon adorned with rubies and the “love and light” that doesn’t disrupt ‘high frequency/vibration.’ Kim Saira posts about and explains this concept exceptionally well, alongside how we can invite/call people into these conversations rather than impulsively cancel them.