Felicia Hemans

Felicia Hemans provides a stark contrast to Dorothy Wordsworth, the other female writer we have studied in the Romantic era. While Dorothy never planned for any of her work to be published, Hemans wanted her work to be visible to others in order to draw personal fame, which is evident in some of her writings.

In “The Homes of England”, Hemans provides a very traditional view of the female role during this time period. She celebrates this domestic role as she describes the different levels of classes. In the first stanza, she focuses on the homes of aristocracy and the second stanza describes a slightly poorer set of homes. Hemans shows that a woman's purpose does not necessarily change through social classes. Even though these homes may not be like those of the aristocracy, the “woman’s voice flows forth in song” still. The third stanza celebrates the holy homes of England, such as churches.
Solemn, yet sweet, the church-bell's chime/ Floats through their woods at morn;/
All other sounds, in that still time,/ Of breeze and leaf are born.

Finally, the fourth stanza describes the peasant homes. Women in all classes of life still share the same domestic role, which Hemans is celebrating in this poem. She shows great love for England. I feel like she sets all levels of homes as equal because they are the starting points for English people to grow and love their country. Hemans says that English people can learn about patriotism, starting at home. These homes are supposed to be the foundations for English lives.
Where first the child’s glad spirit loves/ Its country and its God!

Hemans provides a very Romantic feel to this work as she describes each set of houses with its surrounding elements of nature. I felt like her descriptions help the reader see the English landscape, which helps to see these important houses she is describing. She gives a vivid picture of the land, making the houses sound enchanting, such as when describing the cottages:
They are smiling o'er the silvery brooks,/ And round the hamlet-fanes./ Thro' glowing
orchards forth they peep,/ Each from its nook of leaves,/ And fearless there the lowly
sleep,/ As the bird beneath their eaves.