T h e Ps a l m o f
N e p h i :
A Ly r i c R e a d
i n g
BYU Studies
copyright 1981
The Psalm of Nephi:
A Lyric Reading
Steven P. Sondrup
The Book of Mormon, like the
Bible, is far from a generically unified
work. Although the narratives,
the epistles, the sermons, the exhortations,
and the poems may well
constitute a specialized encyclopedic form with a
thoroughgoing figurative unity
of the sort that Northrup Frye associates
with the Bible, each section
can profitably be read in terms of its own
generic conventions in such a
way that the understanding of the parts as
well as the comprehension of
the whole will be significantly enhanced.1
The question of specific
generic types within sacred writ is not simply an
academic exercise in literary
taxonomy, but rather a problem at the very
heart of scriptural exegesis.
One of the reasons, for example, that Isaiah
appears particularly difficult
to many readers may derive from the rather
futile attempt to read the book
as a simple linear narrative rather than as a
collection of thematically
related oracles. Much of the meaning of the Song
of Solomon, moreover, depends
directly on the generic assumptions that
are initially made about the
book.2 Similarly, many
passages from the Book
of Mormon become more
immediately and fully accessible when their
study is guided by accurate
generic inferences which facilitate interpretation
in terms of appropriate
conventions. To be sure, much can be said
without any reference to the
question of genre, but generic insights can
heighten both the understanding
and the appreciation of many passages.
It might be argued that the use
of generic concepts as a heuristic tool is
tantamount to the inappropriate
application of profane categories to the
study of sacred texts and
consequently in itself a violation of generic
norms. The genre of sacred
text, though, is very general, and sacred texts
consist demonstrably of many
more specific literary types involving various
conventions and norms. Surely
texts held to be religious in nature
should be read with an eye to
religious values while at the same time admitting
of study in terms of
appropriate generic practices which in turn add
new levels and dimensions of
meaning.3
Because by far the greatest
portion of the Book of Mormon is narrative
—though admittedly in several
different ways—other literary modes
embedded in the narrative flow
are less obvious and consequently less
easily identified and read in
terms of their own unique generic conventions.
One such passage occurs in the
fourth chapter of 2 Nephi, verses 16
though 35, a passage that is
often referred to as the ¡°Psalm of Nephi,¡± at
least since Sidney Sperry
provided this formulation in his commentary on
BYU Studies ??, no. ? (????) 1
the Book of Mormon.4 The question to be
discussed with reference to these
verses is not whether they are
a psalm in the biblical sense of the term but
rather the nature and extent of
their poetic qualities and some of the most
central interpretive
implications inextricably connected with their lyricism.
It may at first seem fatuous to
argue for the presence of accomplished
poetry in a volume identifying
itself as a translation, particularly if one remembers
Shelley¡¯s caveat that it is
impossible to translate poetry5 or Robert Frost¡¯s
quip that poetry is what gets
lost in translation. Although Shelley¡¯s and
Frost¡¯s objection may well
apply to the lyric mode they knew best—that
based in formal terms on
acoustical patterning like rhythm, rhyme, and
alliteration and that which
relies heavily on subtle connotations and associations
of individual words—it does not
necessarily apply in general.
Poetry can be viewed more
broadly and taken to include all those
utterances in which language
artfully and significantly draws attention to
itself by the intensification
of its own linguistic and formal properties;
poetry, thus, celebrates
language as its medium of communication and as
at least part of its raison
d¡¯être.6 While rhythm,
meter, alliteration, assonance,
and rhyme are some of the ways
most familiar to modern readers in
which the poet can foreground
his language, they are by no means the only
possibilities at his disposal.
In other epochs and in other cultures many different
linguistic devices have been
used. In the ¡°Psalm of Nephi¡± just as in
Hebrew poetry, an intricately
patterned system of ideatonal parallels is the
essence of lyricism. Logical,
formal, or conceptual units are set parallel to
one another rather than
acoustic properties as is the case with rhythm,
rhyme, alliteration, and
assonance. Formal construction also survive, it
should be noted, the process of
translation far more readily than purely
acoustic properties.7
This use of ideational
parallelism in Hebrew poetry was first noticed
by medieval Jewish biblical
scholars and was given its technical name—
parallelismus
membrorum—during the eighteenth century by the Anglican
bishop and scholar Robert
Lowth. The basic principle is that ¡°every verse
must consist of at least two
¡®members,¡¯ the second of which must, more or
less completely, satisfy the
expectation raised by the first.¡±8 A third member
may on occasion be present, but
if there are more than three, it is usually
possible using some rationale to
group the members into twos or threes.
Parallelism may exist, though,
in many forms. The first and simplest is synonymous
parallelism which occurs when
the first member states an idea
that is restated with variation
by the second member:
I am like a pelican of the
wilderness;
I have become like an owl of
the ruins. [Psalm 102:7]9
The second kind is antithetic
parallelism in which the second member states
the idea of the first but in
negative or contrasting form:
2 BYU Studies
A time to weep,
And a time to laugh.
[Ecclesiastes 3:4]
The third kind involves a
certain parallelism of form but continuous rather
than balanced thought. It
remains questionable, though, whether this synthetic
or formal parallelism should be
counted as parallelism at all. Further
subordinate and specialized
forms of parallelism also are attested, the most
important, perhaps, being that
known as introverted in which the first
member is parallel to the
fourth and the second to the third.
The Bible, though, is by no
means the only example of parallelism
being used as an organizing
poetic principle: parallel structural arrangements
of varied kinds play an
important role in the poetry of many folk
traditions as well as in works
of highly divergent modern poets. Walt
Whitman, for example,
frequently uses parallelism as a structural device as
in Song of Myself.
I too am not a bit tamed. I too
am untranslatable.
I sound my barbaric yawp over
the roofs of the world.10
Whitman is not alone in his
interest in exploiting the poetic potential of
formal parallelism: Charles
Péguy, a French poet of the Third Republic, also
makes extensive use of poetic
parallelism, as does Augusto Frederico Schmidt,
a Brazilian modernist who
frequently drew on Péguy¡¯s stylistic innovations.
11 The poetry of Dylan Thomas abounds in parallelism of a particularly
subtle and refined sort, as she
first stanza of the poem ¡°A Process in
the Weather of the Heart¡±
illustrates.
A process in the weather of the
heart
Turns damp to dry; the golden
shot
Storms in the freezing tomb.
A weather in the quarter of the
veins
Turns night to day; blood in
their suns
lights up the living worm.12
Modern poets not only have used
parallelism as a particularly effective poetic
device but have also on
occasion sought to explain its importance. Gerard
Manley Hopkins, for example, in
an early essay which seeks to define the essence
of poetic expression suggests
that it is ultimately the use of parallelism on
many levels that distinguishes
poetry from other modes of discourse.
But what the character of
poetry is will be found best by looking at the
structure of verse. The
artificial part of poetry, perhaps we shall be right to say
all artifice, reduces itself to
the principle of parallelism. The structure of
poetry is that of continuous
parallelism, ranging form the technical so-called
Parallelisms of Hebrew poetry
and the antiphons of Church music up to the
intricacy of Greek or Italian
or English verse. . . . Now the force of this recurrence
is to beget a recurrence or
parallelism answering to it in the words or
thought and, speaking roughly
and rather for the tendency than the invariable
result, the more marked
parallelism in structure whether of elaboration
Psalm of Nephi: A
Lyric Reading 3
or of emphasis begets more
marked parallelism in the words and sense. And
moreover parallelism in
expression tends to beget or passes into parallelism
in thought. This point reached
we shall be able to see and account for the
peculiarities of poetic
diction.13
Against the background of this
assessment of the importance of parallelism
as well as that of its rich and
venerable tradition extending at least
from the Old Testament through
Dylan Thomas, the arresting formal parallelism
of the ¡°Psalm of Nephi¡± invites
particular attention. Although
comparisons between this
passage and other poems making use of parallelism
—biblical psalms, for
example—may help to isolate and identify the
nature of the passage¡¯s lyric
impact, the issue in question is emphatically
not the proximity per se of
Book of Mormon poetics to any other specific
system but rather the inherent
lyric qualities of the ¡°Psalm of Nephi.¡±
The basic characteristics of
the parallelism of the ¡°Psalm of Nephi¡± can
easily be seen in what may well
serve as the first of the four stanzas of the
Psalms.14 The parallelism here is introverted or chiastic: the
first member is
antithetically parallel to the
fourth, and the second synonymously to the
third. In the first and the
fourth members, the soul of the lyric I expresses
two emotional effects—delight
and grief respectively—and the source of
the delight and grief are the
antithetical poles in the individual¡¯s search for
salvation, ¡°the things of the
Lord¡± and ¡°mine iniquities.¡± The parallelism of
the second and third elements
is somewhat more complex: the heart of the
lyric I (in distinction to
soul) engages in activities—pondering and exclaiming
—which directly involve
activities of the lyric I: ¡°my heart pondereth
continually upon the things
which I have seen and heard¡± and ¡°my heart
4 BYU Studies
Behold, my soul delighteth
in the things of the Lord; and
My heart pondereth
continually upon the things which
I have seen and heard.
Nevertheless, notwithstanding
the great goodness of the
Lord in showing me his great
and marvelous work
My heart exclaimeth: O
wretched man that I am!
Yea my heart sorroweth
because of my flesh;
My soul grieveth because
of mine iniquities.
exclaimeth: O wretched man that I am.¡± The second element of the
chiastic
pair is itself a synonymously
parallel couplet: ¡°my heart exclaimeth¡± and
¡°Yea my heart sorroweth.¡± This
sort of doubling of one element is found
throughout the psalm and has
the effect of conceptual reinforcement or
expansion. The phrase in the
middle of this stanza—¡°Nevertheless, notwithstanding
the great goodness of the Lord
in showing me his great and
marvelous works¡±—is an
introduction to the third member and the pivot
at the center of the
introverted parallelism. The lines of this stanza may be
organized not only in this
introverted parallelism but also in terms of a secondary
synonymous couplet and triplet.
The delight of the soul and the
pondering of the heart are
spiritual virtues that are extensions of one
another whereas the heart¡¯s
declaiming its wretchedness, the heart¡¯s sorrowing
because of the flesh, and the
soul¡¯s grieving because of iniquity are
linked by their common concern
with sin. It should be noted, moreover,
that the soul, a relatively
abstract notion, is appropriately concerned with
abstractions—¡°the things of the
Lord¡± and ¡°mine iniquities,¡± whereas the
heart, a metaphorical but more
concrete figure, deals with similarly concrete
realities—¡°the things which I
have seen and heard,¡± ¡°[the] wretched
man that I am,¡± and ¡°my flesh.¡±
The verbs of each parallel structure also
function in a telling way: the
soul in delighting and grieving is engaging in
essentially emotional
activities, while the heart in pondering and exclaiming
is performing more or less physical
actions. The spiritual nature of the
soul is, thus, emphasized by
its emotive properties, and the corporality of
the heart is suggested by its
tendency toward action. The second element
of the inner chiastic pair,
though, describes the heart sorrowing, an obviously
emotional quality. Rather than
a contradiction or an anomaly within
the structure, this line is a
synthesis of the two poles and provides a carefully
wrought transition from the
inner chiastic pair to the outer.
The lines constituting the second
stanza of the psalm present a far
more complex but basically
similar organization. Three chiastic pairs surround
a nucleus of two sets of six
parallel members with each set further
divisible into sets of parallel
couplets. The outermost structure (1 / 23–25)
is defined by the use of the
first person singular pronoun I as the subject of
the sentence. The second
element of the pair consists of three parallel
members all in the form of a
rhetorical question: ¡°Why should I yield to
sin?¡± ¡°Why should I give way to
temptations?¡± and ¡°Why am I angry?¡±
While the lexical parallelism
of this outer pair is synonymous, the grammatical
parallelism is antithetic. The
second pair (2–19) is defined by the
use of the heart as the subject
of the sentence: ¡°my heart groaneth¡± and ¡°my
heart weeps.¡± The parallelism
is further established by the conceptual proximity
of ¡°groaning¡± and ¡°weeping.¡± As
with the first pair, the second element
of this pair is composed of
multiple members (19–22) in the form of
Psalm of Nephi: A
Lyric Reading 5
I am encompassed about, because of the temptations and the
sins
which do so easily beset me.
And when I desire to rejoice,
my heart groaneth of my sins;
Nevertheless, I know in whom I
have trusted.
My God hath been my support;
He hath led me through mine
afflictions in e wilderness;
And he hath preserved me upon
the waters of the great deep.
He hath filled me with his
love, even unto the consuming of my flesh.
He hath confounded mine
enemies, unto the causing of them to quake
before me.
Behold, he hath heard my cry by
day, and
He hath given me knowledge by
visions in the nighttime.
And by day, have I waxed bold
in mighty prayer before him;
Yea, my voice have I sent up on
high;
And angels have come down and
ministered unto me.
And upon the wings of his
Spirit hath my body been carried away
upon exceeding high mountains.
And mine eyes have beheld great
things, yea, even too great for man;
Therefore I was bidden that I
should not write them.
O then, If I have seen so great
things,
If the Lord in his
condescension unto the children of men hath visited
men in so much mercy,
Why should my heart weep
and
my soul linger in the valley of
sorrow, and
my flesh waste away, and
my strength slacken, because of
mine afflictions?
And why should I yield
to sin, because of my flesh?
Yea, why should I give
way to temptations, that the evil one have place
in my heart to destroy my peace
and afflict my soul?
Why am I angry because
of mine enemy?
6 BYU Studies
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
a question: here, though, two
couplets replace the triplet of the first pair.
The first of the two deals
metaphorically with the afflictions of the heart
and soul—the principal elements
of the preceding stanza—while the second
is concerned with the more
concrete concepts of atrophying flesh and
strength. In addition to this
relatively obscure stanza—while the second is
concerned with the more
concrete concepts of atrophying flesh and strength.
In addition to this relatively
obscure introverted parallelism, the last seven
members (19–25)—the couplets
and the concluding triplet—are all parallel
to one another in terms of
their rhetorically interrogative form and their
implied antipathy toward that
which would detract from a rich relationship
with God. Similarly, the first
two lines of the stanza (1–2), which were
respectively the first elements
of the two chiastic pairs, are synonymously
parallel in describing what
alienates man from God. The inner nucleus of
the stanza (5–16) is introduced
by a couplet announcing the subject of the
next six lines: ¡°Nevertheless,
I know in whom I have trusted. / My God hath
been my support¡± (3–4). This
introductory couplet is in turn balanced by
another couplet which is a kind
of summary of the last six lines and the
bridge to what follows: ¡°If I
have seen so great things, / If the Lord in his
condescension unto the children
of men hath visited me in so much
mercy¡± (17–18). The first six
of the twelve-line nucleus are all parallel in
that they specifically detail
how God has been a support and in that all have
parallel structures beginning,
¡°He hath . . .¡± (5–10). The first two of the six
(5–6) are linked by their
description of God¡¯s protection from environmental
dangers, ¡°the wilderness¡± and
¡°the waters of the great deep¡±; the
second two (7–8) by detailing
God¡¯s love for the righteous and the confounding
of the enemies of
righteousness; and the third (9–10) by the play
on the antithesis of day and
night. The second set of six lines (11–16) turns
from the actions of God to
those of man but can similarly be divided into
three couplets. The first
(11–12) portrays the ways in which the poetic
voice has been raised to God;
the second (13–14) discusses the ministrations
of divine messengers; and the
last (15–16) mentions the results of
these ministrations. The
parallelism of this last couplet, it must be admitted,
is certainly not as that of the
others, but it is similar to the synthetic or
formal parallelism common in
Hebrew verse.
The third stanza is the
simplest, yet, perhaps, the most elegant of the
entire poem and parallels,
moreover, as a stanza the first stanza of the psalm.
The outer chiastic pair is
defined by the awakening and rejoicing of the
soul, while the inner pair is
characterized by the rejoicing of the heart. The
first member of the inner pair
is supported by a subordinate couplet that
expands the meaning of the
line. The chiastic pairing of statements about
the heart and the soul is,
thus, the structural foundation of both stanzas
and provides a formal
parallelism of a new order.
Psalm of Nephi: A
Lyric Reading 7
This strophic parallelism is
continued in the fourth stanza in that it
generally reflects the
structure of the second stanza. The outer chiastic shell
around the conceptual nucleus
of the second stanza is missing in the
fourth, but the structural
pattern of the nucleus itself still obtains. The
stanza consists of two parts,
each introduced by the parallel exclamatory
expressions, ¡°O Lord.¡± As in
the second stanza, the first part describes the
actions of the Lord, albeit
those for which the lyric I is praying, while in the
second part the actions of the
lyric I itself are evoked. In both sections the
lines are even more intimately
associated in conceptual couplets and
triplets. In the first part,
lines one and two are synonymously parallel, and
line two forms an outer
chiastic pair with line eleven, both centering on the
escape from enemies. Line three
and line ten form the inner chiastic pair in
that they deal with the
antithesis of sin and righteousness. Lines four and
seven are related by the
opening or not opening of gates and are supported
by a subordinate pair, lines
eight and nine, based on the image of walking
the path of life. This image is
taken up again in the couplet consisting of
lines twelve and thirteen and
enlarged in another subordinate couplet also
based on the same image.
In the second part, lines
sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen constitute a
triplet defined by the trust of
the lyric I in the Lord and expanded by a subordinate
couplet evincing the curse upon
those who trust in the arm of
flesh, lines nineteen and
twenty. Lines twenty-one and twenty-two form a
parallel couplet in their
description of the manner in which God will give
liberally. The final three
lines—twenty-three through twenty-five—are a
triplet which enumerate the
ways in which the lyric I will raise his voice to
God. The second part is thus
symmetrical in that the central couplet is surrounded
by two triplets.15
The representation of this
passage in poetic lines and stanzas rather
than in the usual narrow,
newspaper-like columns leads unavoidably to the
8 BYU Studies
Awake my soul! No longer
droop in sin.
Rejoice, O my heart, and
give place no more for the enemy of my soul.
Do no anger again because of
mine enemies.
Do not slacken y strength
because of mine afflictions.
Rejoice, O my heart, and
cry unto the lord, and say: O Lord, I will praise thee
forever;
Yea, my soul will
rejoice in thee, my God, and the rock of my salvation.
O Lord, wilt thou redeem my
soul?
Wilt thou deliver me out of the
hands of mine enemies?
Wilt thou make me that I may
shake at the appearance of sin?
May the gates of hell be shut
continually before me,
Because that my heart is broken
and
my spirit is contrite!
O Lord, wilt thou not shut the
gates of thy righteousness before me,
That I may walk in the path of
the low valley,
That I may be strict in the
plain road!
O Lord, wilt thou encircle me
around in the robe of thy righteousness!
O Lord, wilt thou make a way
for mine escape before mine enemies!
Wilt thou make my path straight
before me!
Wilt thou not place a stumbling
block in my way—
But that thou wouldst clear my
way before me,
And hedge not up my way, but
the ways of mine enemy.
O Lord, I have trusted in thee,
and
I will trust in thee forever.
I will not put my trust in the
arm of flesh;
For I know that cursed is he
that putteth his trust in the arm of flesh.
Yea, cursed is he that putteth
his trust in man or maketh flesh his arm.
Yea, I know that God will give
liberally to him that asketh.
Yea, my God will give me, If I
ask not amiss;
Therefore, I will lift up my
voice unto thee:
Yea, I will cry unto thee, my
God, the rock of my righteousness.
Behold, my voice shall forever
ascend up unto thee, my rock and mine
everlasting God. Amen.
Psalm of Nephi: A
Lyric Reading 9
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
insight that this passage is
extraordinarily tightly structured in linguistic
and conceptual terms and
differs substantially from the surrounding narrative
sections.16 Its balanced
ideational patterns are unlike the exhortations,
the prayers, the epistles, and
the epic narrative that constitute most
of the Book of Mormon. This
careful and obviously intentional structuring
certainly seems to invite—if
not to demand—interpretation on its own
terms, and the terms that the
passages seem to suggest are those that easily
accommodate the arresting
emphasis given to language as language, to formal
structure as structure. The
poet—a designation entirely appropriate for
the author of this
passage—seems intent upon drawing the careful reader¡¯s
attention to the aesthetic
fulfillment that intricate formal balance can provide
and, in so doing, creates a
text that is at least in part self-referential.
Although debate continues on
the definition of poetry and, indeed, whether
a generic category as large as
poetry can be defined in any meaningful way,
many critics could agree that
the extensive parallelism of the passage would
warrant at least a tentative
reading in terms of general poetic conventions.
A lyric convention which very
significantly distinguishes a poetic reading
of the passage from one
determined by the norms and expectations of
expository prose, for example,
is the lyric practice of concentrating and
symbolizing meaning. The
delight of the soul in the things of the Lord is,
thus, an animating and
vivifying attitude rather than a prosaic report on
psychic health; the grief
because of iniquity is a soul-searing regret rather
than a relatively passive
evocation of guilt. And similarly, the final resolve
to cry unto God eternally is
heightened and amplified by the power of lyrical
articulation to the level of an
all-consuming passion. The joy in righteousness,
the grief for sin, and the
resolve to praise God are, moreover, all
universalized and, within the
poetic framework, all generally accessible.
The text does not evince a
historical time in the same sense as the ambient
narrative with its specific
temporal references, but rather evokes a heightened,
eternal lyric present. The past
events are only prior to the enduring
poetic present and the future
tenses suggest more a logical consequence
than a chronological ordering.
By recognizing the non-temporal lyric time,
the reader engages the mind of
the lyric I in a highly intimate yet universalizing
way which is notably different
from the reader¡¯s contact with the
epic narrator.
In all verbal structures
identified as literary, or more especially as lyric,
meaning and value ultimately
depend not on descriptive accuracy but
rather on conformity with the
postulates implied by the work itself. The
poem does not literally
describe nor does it directly assert: as poetry, the
¡°Psalm of Nephi¡± cannot
necessarily be taken to provide reliable information
about Nephi¡¯s actions or
attitudes.17 The psalm rather
evokes a lyric
world responsive to its own
internal rhythm and having only an indirect
10 BYU Studies
relationship with the world of
externality. The inward striving for heightened
reality must, perforce, take
precedence over the outward motion
toward empirical reality. In
this rarefied world of lyric intensity, truth
becomes, at least in part, a
question of poetic (poietic) coherence rather
than referential veracity.
When the ¡°Psalm of Nephi¡± is
read with attention to its lyric qualities,
it may be subsumed within the
lyric genre and thus be in a position to
enrich and to be enriched by
other poems. Although it can be esteemed
and valued in aesthetic
isolation, its significance and appreciation expand
when read in relation to and
comparison with other works. Other poems
may also conceivably emerge in
new light as their poetic context is expanded
to accommodate this poem.18 It is true that in
the sciences the discovery of
a new example of a given
species as a whole. Yet in matters aesthetic concern,
this is not the case: each new
example necessarily not only extends
and enlarges but also subtly
and invariably changes the genre.19
A particularly good example of
this kind of intertextual enrichment
with regard to the ¡°Psalm of
Nephi¡± can be seen in its comparative juxtaposition
to thematically similar Old
Testament psalms. Psalm 51, which
tradition holds was occasioned
by Nathan the prophet¡¯s visit to David after
David had sinned with
Bathsheba, like the ¡°Psalm of Nephi¡± express profound
grief for sin and transgression
and looks forward to God¡¯s righteousness.
David¡¯s pleas to ¡°create . . .
a clean heart, O God and renew a
right spirit¡± (v. 10) evoke the
sympathetic vibrations of Nephi¡¯s heart that
sorrows because of his flesh
and of his soul that grieves because of his iniquities
but nonetheless knows in whom
to trust and upon whom to rely.
Although Nephi¡¯s sorrow for sin
is certainly genuine and sincere, the gravity
and immediacy of David¡¯s
transgression emerges with harrowing power
in contract. David yearns for
deliverance, so that his tongue can sing aloud
of the righteousness of God (v.
14); yet in comparison, Nephi¡¯s resolve to
lift his voice forever to the
rock of his righteousness, to his everlasting God,
is at once more ecstatic and
more compelling. When Nephi exclaims, ¡°May
the gates of hell be shut
continually before me, because that my heart is
broken and my spirit is
contrite!¡± he echoes David¡¯s assertion that ¡°the sacrifices
of God are a broken spirit: a
broken and a contrite heart, O God,
thou wilt not despise¡± (v. 17).
And with this poetic echo comes some of the
urgency and tragedy of David¡¯s
penitence that shapes and colors the aesthetic
impact of the line in such a
subtle yet important way that it could be
missed if the generic
similarity of the two statements were not explicit.
Similarly, the avowal of the
poet of the eighty-fourth psalm that ¡°my
soul longeth, yea, even
fainteth for the courts of the LORD; my heart and
my flesh crieth out for the
living God¡± (v. 2) and Nephi¡¯s affirmation that
¡°my soul delighteth in the
things of the Lord and my heart pondereth
Psalm of Nephi: A
Lyric Reading 11
continually upon things which I
have seen and heard¡± mutually provide
enriching and broadening
interpretive contexts which potentially render
the broadest meaning of both
passages more accessible and more fully real.
Yet one further and more
distant comparison may well serve to illustrate
the point. In the thirty-first
canto of ¡°Purgatorio,¡± Dante¡¯s weakness
and shortcomings are brought
fully and painfully to his mind. He stands
conscience-stricken and
penitent with his eyes cast toward the ground as
Beatrice rehearses his
transgressions; he is then told that the grief at hearing
is not sufficient, so he must
lift his eyes to behold and to experience
even greater pain. Eventually
the suffering is too great for Dante to endure;
he collapses exclaiming: ¡°Tanta
riconoscenza il cor mi morse/ ch¡¯io caddi
vinto¡± (So much recognition
[i.e., self-recognition, self-condemnation] bit
at my heart, that I feel
overcome).20 By means of a
sensitivity to certain
broadly shared generic
conventions coupled with even the vaguest memory
of Dante¡¯s penitential collapse
at the sight of his weakness, the experience
of hearing Nephi¡¯s heart
exclaim, ¡°O wretched man that I am,¡± of
seeing the poet come to an
awareness of his own shortcomings to the
extent that his heart groans
and weeps, can be heightened, extended, and
enriched and, more
significantly, moved one step closer perhaps, to full
poetic universality. The two
passages partake of the same traditions, and
the lyric strength of one,
consequently, poetically reinforces the other.
Neither the enrichment nor,
indeed, the aesthetic fulfillment it produces
in itself justifies the
application of lyric conventions to the reading of
the ¡°Psalm of Nephi.¡±
Ultimately, the reason for reading this text as a poem
is that the complex system of
parallelisms suggests the author intended, at
least in part, to call
attention to language, his medium of expression, to
write a text which was, at
least to a degree, self-referential, and to celebrate
the essence and power of the
word as such: he intended his text should be
read as a poem. By reading
these words as they were intended to be read, by
engaging the poetic mind,
indeed the prophetic mind, on its own terms,
the reader is warranted the
most profound understanding of the meaning
of the text and the richest
appreciation of its significance.21
Steven P. Sondrup, an associate
professor of Humanities, Classics, and Comparative
Literature, Brigham Young
University, presented this paper 28 April 1979 at the
Association for Mormon Letters
Symposium, held at the University of Virginia, Charlottesville.
It was published in Proceedings
of the Symposia of the Association for Mormon
Letters, 1978–79, ed. Steven P. Sondrup (Salt Lake City:
Association for Mormon Letters,
1979), pp. 35–41.
1. Northrop Frye, Anatomy of
Criticism (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University
Press, 1957), pp. 315–16.
12 BYU Studies
2. See The Anchor bible: The
Song of Songs, ed. and trans., with commentary,
Marvin H. Pope (New York:
Doubleday, 1977), as an example of the problem of
generic identification.
3. See E. D. Hirsch, Jr., Validity
in Interpretation (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University
Press, 1967), pp. 68–126, for a
detailed description of the importance of accurate
generic definition in the
process of interpretation. See also Hans Robert Jauss, Literaturgeschichte
als Provocation (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 1970), pp. 173–83.
4. Book of Mormon Compendium
(Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1968), pp. 152–53.
Although Professor Sperry may
be right in his unsubstantiated argument that ¡°this is a
true psalm in both form and
ideas,¡± he seems to have misunderstood the basic poetic
structure of this passage, at
least insofar as his arrangement of lines and stanzas allows
inference. Reynolds and Sjodahl
in George Reynolds and Janne M. Sjodahl, Commentary
on the Book of
Mormon, ed. Philip C. Reynolds, 7 vols. (Salt Lake City:
Deseret
News Press, 1955), 1:264–71,
describe the passage as ¡°A Song of Nephi¡± and call attention
to some of its poetic
qualities. The proximity of the passage to Hebrew poetry is
also emphasized. At times the
analysis is rather superficial, and many of the central lyric
elements seem to have been
misunderstood.
5. ¡°It was as wise to cast a
violet into a crucible that you might discover the formal
principle of its colour spring
again from its seed, or it will bear no flower—and this is
the burthen of the curse of
Babel.¡± (¡°A Defense of Poetry,¡± The Complete Works of Percy
Bysshe Shelley, ed. Roger Ingpen and Walter E. Peck, 10 vols. [New York:
Gordian Press;
London: Ernest Benn, 1965],
7:114.)
6. This view of poetry is based
on insights of the Prague School aestheticians and
structuralist approaches to
poetry. Jan Mukarovsky argues, for example, that ¡°in poetic
language foregrounding achieves
maximum intensity to the extent of pushing communication
into the background as the
objective of expression and of being used for its
own sake; it is not used in the
services of communication, but in order to place in the
foreground the act of
expression, the act of speech itself¡± (¡°Standard Language and
Poetic Language,¡± A Prague
School Reader on Esthetics, Literary Structure, and Style,
ed. and trans. Paul L. Garvin
[Washington D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 1964],
p. 19). Roman Jakobson makes a
similar point: ¡°The set (Einstellung) toward the MESSAGE
as such, focus on the message
for its own sake, is the POETIC function of language.
. . . Poetic function is not
the sole function of verbal art but only its dominant,
determining function, whereas
in all other verbal activities it Acts as a subsidiary, accessory
constituent. This function, by
promoting the palpability of signs, deepens the fundamental
dichotomy of signs and
objects.¡± (¡°Closing Statement: Linguistics and
Poetics,¡± Style in Language,
ed. Thomas Sebeok [Cambridge: Technology Press of
Massachusetts Institute of
Technology, 1960], p. 356.)
7. See Ruth apRoberts, ¡°Old
Testament Poetry: The Translatable Structure,¡±
PMLA 92 (1979): 987–1004.
Matthew Arnold was also aware of the translatable potential
of Old Testament poetry:
And the effect of Hebrew poetry
can be preserved and transferred in a foreign
language, as the effect of
other great poetry cannot. The effect of Homer, the
effect of Dante, is and must be
in great measure lost in translation, because
their poetry is a poetry of
metre, or of rhyme, or both; and the effect of these
is not really transferable. A
man may make a good English poem with the matter
and thoughts of Homer or Dante,
may even try to reproduce their metre,
or to reproduce their rhyme;
but the metre and rhyme will be in truth is own,
and the effect will be his, not
the effect of Homer or Dante. Isaiah¡¯s, on the
other hand, is a balance of
thought, conveyed by a corresponding balance of
Psalm of Nephi: A
Lyric Reading 13
sentence; and the effect of
this can be transferred to another language. (¡°Introduction
to Isaiah of Jerusalem,¡± The
Works of Matthew Arnold, 15 vols. [New
York: AMS Press, 1970],
11:333–34.
8. Theodore H. Robinson, The
Poetry of the Old Testament (London: Duckworth,
1947), p. 21. See also Stanley
Gevirtz, Patterns in the Early Poetry of Israel (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press,
1963, 1963), and Freedman, New York: Ktav Publishing
House, 1972). James Muilenburg
provides a useful description of the value and limits
of form criticism and Gattungforschung
in ¡°Form Criticism and Beyond,¡± Journal
of Biblical
Literature, vol. 88, pt 1 (March 1969), pp.
1–18. James L. Kugel¡¯s The Idea of
Biblical Poetry:
Parallelism and Its History (New Haven: Yale
University Press, 1981) did
not appear soon enough to be
considered in this study.
9. All biblical quotations are
form the Kind James Version.
10. Walt Whitman, ¡°Song of
Myself,¡± stanza 52, Leaves of Grass, ed. Harold W.
Blodgett and Sculley Bradley,
vol. 9 of The Collected Writings of Walt Whitman, ed. Gay
Wilson Allen and Sculley
Bradley (New York: New York University Press, 1965), p. 89.
11. See Joseph Barbier, Le
Vocabulaire le Syntaxe et le Style des Poemes Reguliers de
Charles Peguy (Paris: Editions Berger-Levrault, 1957), especially pp.
434–56 for a discussion
of Peguy¡¯s use of parallelism.
See Jon M. Tolman, ¡°A. F. Schmidt and C. Peguy:
A Comparative Stylistic
Analysis,¡± Comparative Literature Studies 11 (December 1974):
277–305, for a discussion of
Schmidt¡¯s use of parallelism and Peguy¡¯s influence on him.
12. The Collected Poems of
Dylan Thomas (New York: New Directions, 1957), p. 6.
13. ¡°Poetic Diction,¡± The
Journals and Papers of Gerard Manley Hopkins, ed.
Humphrey House and completed by
Graham Storey (London: Oxford University
Press, 1959), pp. 83–84. For a
discussion of the import of parallelism in poetry from a
linguistic point of view, see
Roman Jakobson, ¡°Grammatical Parallelism and Its Russian
Facet,¡± Language 42
(1966): 399–429. See also Paul Kiparsky, ¡°The Role of Linguistics
in a Theory of Poetry,¡± Daedalus
102 (Summer 1973): 231–44.
14. The stanza divisions used
in this analysis are, of course, not in the printed text
of the Book of Mormon, nor are
they even suggested. They are, rather, divisions that
the structure of the passage
itself seems to dictate and have been used here to facilitate
analysis. The line Numbers
refer to lines within the stanza. The terms line and member
are used more or less
synonymously. In the course of this discussion, several passages
will be described as exhibiting
introverted or chiastic parallelism. The term and concept
of chiasmus have been widely
discussed and have invited considerable speculation in
certain circles; in the context
of what follows, chiasmus is to be understood only in the
sense of a rhetorical figure
similar to antimetabole which has been used by writers—
both religious and
secular—since antiquity. The essential feature is an abba pattern in
which the second part of the
structure is balanced against the first but in reverse order
as in the poetic line ¡°Flowers
are lovely, love is flowerlike.¡± In the ¡°Psalm of Nephi,¡±
it will be noted, chiastic
structures are much more extended. (See the article on chiasmus
in Alex Preminger, ed., Princeton
Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, enlarged ed.
[Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 1974], p. 116.)
15. These embedded chiastic
patterns could also well be considered in terms of the
rhetorical principle associated
with ring composition, a technique with a long and
extensive history in which the
final element in a series reflects or echoes the first in
some way, the penultimate the
second, and so on. This procedure was first investigated
by W. A. A. van Otterlo in Untersuchungen
über Begriff, Anwendung und Entstebung der
griechischen
Ringkomposition, Mededelingen der Nederlandsche Akademie van Wetenschappen,
Afdeling
Letterkunde, NS 7, no. 3 (Amsterdam:
Noord-Hollandsche Uitgevers
14 BYU Studies
Maatschappij, 1944); ¡°Ein
merkwürdige Kompositions form der älteren griechischen
Literatur,¡± Mnemosyne, 3d
ser. 12 (1944); and De Ringcompositie als Opbouwprincipe in
de epische
Gedichten van Homerus, Verhandelingen der Koninklijke Nederlandsche
Akademie van
Wetenschappen, Afdeling Letterkunde, NS 51, no. 1 (Amsterdam: Noord-
Hollandsche Uitgevers
Maatschappij, 1948). Cederic H. Whitman extends and ampli-
fies this approach in Homer
and the Heroic Tradition (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard
University Press, 1958). (See
especially the detailed foldout chart at the back of the
book. See also Julia Haig
Gaisser, ¡°A Structural Analysis of the Digressions in the Iliad
and the Odyssey,¡± Harvard
Studies in Classical Philology 73 [1969]: 1–44.) This method
of analysis has also been
applied to literary traditions other than the ancient Greek (see
David Buchan, The Ballad and
the Folk [London: Routledge, 1972]; John D. Niles,
¡°Ring-Composition in La Chanson
de Roland and La Chancun de Willame,¡± Olifant 1
[December 1973]: 4–12; John D.
Niles, ¡°Ring Composition and the Structure of
Beowulf,¡± PMLA 94
[1979]: 924–35.) Of particular interest in conjunction with the
¡°Psalm of Nephi¡± is Michael
Fishbane, ¡°Composition and Structure in the Jacob Cycle
(Gen. 25:19–35:22),¡± Journal
of Jewish Studies 26 (1975): 15–38.
16. The present arrangement in
poetic lines and stanzas does not alone create,
determine, or define per se the
lyricism of the passage but rather makes more obvious
the inherent lyric elements
obscured by printing conventions. For an exchange of letters
concerning the implications of
typographical rearrangements, see the TLS of 4 February
1965, p. 87, for the beginning
of the controversy which continues in the issues
of 11 February 1965, p.107, and
18 February 1965, p. 127, the latter touching on the
question of biblical poetry.
Finally, in a brief article in the issue of 25 February 1965,
p. 147, an earlier (27
September 1928) letter of T. S. Eliot discussing the question is published.
The question is also discussed
by Hirsch, Validity in Interpretation, pp. 94–98.
Jonathan Culler raises the
issue with regard to the generic expectations that typographical
rearrangements can imply (see
Structuralist Poetics [Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell
University Press, 1975], pp.
161–62; see also Gerard Genette, Figures II [Paris: Seuil,
1969], pp. 150–51).
17. Hans-Georg Gadamer argues
convincingly that the essential difference
between literary and
nonliterary texts resides in their fundamentally different claims to
veracity. ¡°. . . der
Unterschied zwischen einem literarischen Kunstwerk und irgendeinem
anderen literarischen Text
[ist] kein so grundsätzlicher. Gewiss besteht ein
Unterschied zwischen der
Sprache der dichterischen Prosa und der ¡®wissenschaftlichen¡¯
Prosa. Man kann diese
Unterschiede gewiss auch vom Gesichtspunkt der literarischen
Formung aus betrachten. Aber
der wesentliche Unterschied solcher verschiedener
¡®Sprachen¡¯ liegt offenbar
woanders, nämlich inder Verschiedenheit des Wahrheitsanspruches,
der von ihnen erhoben wird.¡± (Wahrheit
und Methode: Grundzüge einer
philosophischen
Hermeneutic, 3. erweiterte Auflage [Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr (Paul
Siebeck), 1972], p.155.) It is,
thus, questionable whether the ¡°Psalm of Nephi¡± gives the
reader any reliable information
about Nephi¡¯s actions or attitudes. This view is contrary
to that represented by Reynolds
and Sjodahl and more recently by Steve Gilliland,
¡°¡®Awake My Soul!¡¯: Dealing
Firmly with Depression,¡± Ensign 8 (August 1978): 37–41.
(See also Frye, Anatomy of
Criticism, pp. 74–76.) Gadamer¡¯s view of poetry, however
has not gained universal
acceptance. Among the opposing theories, for example, is that
advanced by Kate Hamburger in Die
Logik der Dichtung (Stuttgart: Ernst Klett Verlag,
1957) in which lyric poetry is
approached as a ¡°real utterance¡± (Wirklichkeitsaussage)
having the same status as a
historical narrative.
18. T. S. Eliot advances this
general arguments in ¡°Tradition and the Individual
Talent,¡± Selected Essays, new
ed. (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and World, 1964),
Psalm of Nephi: A
Lyric Reading 15
pp. 3–11. Though working within
a very different framework, that of Russian formalism
and semiotic theory, Julia
Kristeva makes a similar point. ¡°. . . tout texte se construit
comme mosaîque de citations,
tout texte est absorption et transformation d¡¯un
autre texte. A la place de la
notion d¡¯intersubjectivité s¡¯installe celle d¡¯intertextualité, et
le langage poétique se lit, au
moins, comme double.¡± (¥Ò¥ç¥ì¥å¥é¥ø¥ó¥é¥ê¥ç Recherches pour une
Sémanalyse [Paris: Editions du Seuil, 1969], p.146).
19. ¡°. . . toute oeuvre
modifie l¡¯ensemble des possibles, chague nouvel example
change l¡¯espèce. . . . Plus exactement,
nous ne reconnaissons à un texte le droit de figurer
dans l¡¯histoire de la
literature ou dans celle de la science, que pour autant qu¡¯il
apporte un changement à l¡¯idee
qu¡¯on se faisait jusqu¡¯ alors de l¡¯une ou de l¡¯autre acrivite.
Les textes que ne remplissent
pas cette condition passent automatiquement dans
une autre categorie: celle de
la literature dite ¡®populaire,¡¯ ¡®de masse,¡¯ là; celle de l¡¯exercise
scolaire, ici.¡± (Tzvetan
Todorov, Introduction à la litterature fantastique [Paris:
Seuil, 1970], p. 10.)
20. Dante Purgatorio 11.
88–89. (The edition cited is that edited by Giorgio Petrocchi
[Rome: A. Mondadori for the
Società Dantesca Italiana, 1966–68]. The translation
is my own. I side with
Singleton against Grandgent in taking Dante¡¯s collapse to result
from his contrition, the last
stage of the sacrament of penance, rather than satisfaction.
(See Charles S. Singleton, ed.,
The Divine Comedy, Purgatorio, 2. Commentary, Bollingen
Series 80 [Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 1973], p. 767.)
21. To regard Nephi as a poet
is entirely consistent with what is otherwise known
about him. Hugh Nibley in An
Approach to the Book of Mormon, 2d ed. (Salt Lake City:
Deseret Book, 1964), pp.
220–21, notes that ¡°in Lehi¡¯s day an inspired leader had to be
a poet.¡± Nephi, moreover, of
all other figures in the Book of Mormon, seems most concerned
with questions of language and
is the most moved by the difficult yet lyrical
mode of Isaiah.
16 BYU Studies
Psalm of Nephi: A
Lyric Reading 17