Some candle clear burns somewhere I come by.
I muse at how its being puts blissful back
With yellowy moisture mild night's blear-all black,
Or to-fro tender trambeams truckle at the eye.
By that window what task what fingers ply,
I plod wondering, a-wanting, just for lack
Of answer the eagerer a-wanting Jessy or Jack
There God to aggrándise, God to glorify.—
Come you indoors, come home; your fading fire
Mend first and vital candle in close heart's vault:
You there are master, do your own desire;
What hinders? Are you beam-blind, yet to a fault
In a neighbour deft-handed? Are you that liar
And cast by conscience out, spendsavour salt?
Gerard Manley Hopkins’ The Candle Indoors is a meditation on spiritual longing, human distraction, and the tension between external observation and internal reflection. Written in Hopkins’ characteristic sprung rhythm and dense with his idiosyncratic diction, the poem exemplifies his preoccupation with the interplay between the physical and the divine. At its core, the poem grapples with the human tendency to seek fulfillment outside oneself—whether in the lives of others or in material distractions—while neglecting the inner spiritual flame that requires tending. Through vivid imagery, syntactical complexity, and a shifting perspective, Hopkins crafts a work that is both introspective and admonitory, urging the reader (and perhaps himself) to turn inward and rekindle the "vital candle" of faith and purpose.
To fully appreciate The Candle Indoors, one must consider Hopkins’ life as a Jesuit priest and poet. His religious vocation profoundly shaped his writing, which often explores themes of divine presence, human frailty, and the struggle for spiritual discipline. Hopkins converted to Catholicism in 1866 and entered the Society of Jesus in 1868, a decision that estranged him from his Anglican family and placed him in a life of rigorous self-examination. His poetry frequently reflects this tension between worldly beauty and ascetic devotion.
Written in 1879, The Candle Indoors belongs to Hopkins’ middle period, a time when he was deeply engaged in parish work yet struggling with creative and spiritual dryness. The poem’s concern with distraction—gazing at another’s light rather than tending one’s own—may reflect Hopkins’ own frustrations with his pastoral duties, which often left him little time for poetry. The poem’s abrupt shift from observation to self-address suggests an internal dialogue, a moment of chastisement where the speaker recognizes his own neglect of the "close heart’s vault."
The poem opens with an external scene: the speaker notices a candle burning in a window and muses on its effect on the surrounding darkness. The candle’s "yellowy moisture" softens the "blear-all black" of night, creating a contrast between warmth and obscurity. This imagery evokes both physical and spiritual illumination—a recurring motif in Hopkins’ work (seen also in The Lantern Out of Doors and God’s Grandeur). The candle’s glow is not merely aesthetic; it symbolizes human activity, purpose, and perhaps even divine grace cutting through existential darkness.
Yet the speaker’s fascination with this external light quickly becomes a distraction. He "plod[s] wondering, a-wanting," his curiosity morphing into restless longing. The abrupt enjambment between lines 6 and 7 ("just for lack / Of answer the eagerer a-wanting Jessy or Jack") mimics the speaker’s spiraling thoughts, his mind leaping to imagined figures (Jessy or Jack) who might be engaged in some meaningful task. This projection reveals the speaker’s own sense of lack—he is searching for meaning outside himself rather than within.
The volta in line 9—"Come you indoors, come home"—marks a decisive shift from observation to self-rebuke. The speaker turns inward, addressing his own soul (or perhaps the reader) with urgent imperatives. The "fading fire" and "vital candle" are metaphors for spiritual vitality, which must be "mend[ed]" rather than neglected. The heart is described as a "vault," suggesting something both precious and enclosed—a sacred space that requires attention.
The rhetorical questions that follow ("What hinders? Are you beam-blind, yet to a fault / In a neighbour deft-handed?") imply that the obstacle to spiritual fulfillment is not external but internal. "Beam-blind" alludes to the Biblical admonition against noticing the speck in another’s eye while ignoring the plank in one’s own (Matthew 7:3-5). The speaker accuses himself of being overly concerned with others’ actions ("a neighbour deft-handed") while neglecting his own soul.
The final line—"Are you that liar / And cast by conscience out, spendsavour salt?"—intensifies the self-accusation. The reference to salt is particularly potent, evoking both Matthew 5:13 ("You are the salt of the earth... but if the salt loses its savor, how shall it be salted?") and the idea of moral decay. To be "spendsavour salt" is to have lost one’s purpose, to be spiritually inert. The abrupt, almost harsh conclusion leaves the reader with a sense of unresolved tension, underscoring the difficulty of true self-examination.
Hopkins’ use of sprung rhythm—a metrical system that emphasizes stressed syllables while allowing varying numbers of unstressed ones—creates a muscular, urgent cadence. The poem’s rhythm mirrors the speaker’s restless mind, moving from contemplative observation to abrupt self-interrogation. Additionally, Hopkins employs dense consonance and assonance (e.g., "yellowy moisture mild night’s blear-all black") to create a textured sonic landscape that reinforces the poem’s tactile imagery.
Hopkins’ coinages ("blear-all," "to-fro tender trambeams," "spendsavour") compress multiple meanings into single units, demanding active engagement from the reader. "Blear-all black" suggests a darkness that obscures everything, while "trambeams" (possibly a fusion of "transient" and "beams") conveys the flickering, unstable nature of external lights that distract the observer. These linguistic innovations reflect Hopkins’ belief that poetry should capture the "inscape"—the unique, dynamic essence of a thing.
The poem’s movement from third-person observation to second-person command creates a dramatic interior monologue. The speaker is both observer and observed, highlighting the duality of human consciousness—the self that wanders and the self that calls the wanderer back. This technique draws the reader into the poem’s moral urgency, making the rebuke feel personal and immediate.
Hopkins’ concern with distraction and spiritual negligence resonates with broader Victorian anxieties about secularization and the loss of faith. Unlike many of his contemporaries, however, Hopkins does not lament external societal changes so much as internal wavering. In this sense, The Candle Indoors aligns with the Ignatian spiritual exercises, which emphasize rigorous self-examination and the cultivation of inner devotion.
Comparatively, the poem can be read alongside George Herbert’s The Collar, which similarly depicts a moment of spiritual crisis and self-rebuke. Both poems employ abrupt shifts in tone and direct address to convey inner turmoil. Yet where Herbert’s speaker ultimately submits to divine call ("Me thought I heard one calling, Child! / And I replied, My Lord"), Hopkins’ conclusion is more unresolved, leaving the reader with a challenge rather than a resolution.
The Candle Indoors is a poem of profound spiritual tension, capturing the human tendency to seek meaning outside oneself while neglecting the inner flame that truly sustains. Hopkins’ dense imagery, rhythmic intensity, and sudden shifts in perspective create a work that is both visually vivid and psychologically penetrating. The poem does not offer easy consolation; rather, it serves as a stark reminder of the necessity of introspection and the dangers of spiritual complacency.
Ultimately, the poem’s power lies in its universality. Though rooted in Hopkins’ specific religious worldview, its central concern—the struggle to maintain inner light amid external distractions—resonates across secular and spiritual contexts. In an age of constant stimulation and outward focus, The Candle Indoors remains a compelling admonition to turn inward, to tend the "vital candle" before it flickers out.
Click the button below to print a cloze exercise of the poem critique. This exercise is designed for classroom use.