Critical Review - Dickinson

39

I never lost as much but twice -

And that was in the sod.

Twice have I stood a beggar

Before the door of God!

Angels - twice descending

Reimbursed my store -

Burglar! Banker - Father!

I am poor once more!

112

Success is counted sweetest

By those who ne’er succeed.

To comprehend a nectar

Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple Host

Who took the Flag today

Can tell the definition

So clear of Victory

As he defeated - dying -

On whose forbidden ear

The distant strains of triumph

Burst agonized and clear!

124

Safe in their Alabaster Chambers -

Untouched by Morning -

And untouched by noon -

Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection,

Rafter of Satin and Roof of Stone -

Grand go the Years,

In the Crescent above them -

Worlds scoop their Arcs -

And Firmaments - row -

Diadems - drop -

And Doges - surrender -

Soundless as Dots,

On a Disc of Snow.

202

“Faith” is a fine invention

For Gentlemen who see!

But Microscopes are prudent

In an Emergency!

207

I taste a liquor never brewed -

From Tankards scooped in Pearl -

Not all the Frankfort Berries

Yield such an Alcohol!

Inebriate of air - am I -

And Debauchee of Dew -

Reeling - thro’ endless summer days -

From inns of molten Blue -

When “Landlords” turn the drunken Bee

Out of the Foxglove’s door -

When Butterflies - renounce their “drams” -

I shall but drink the more!

Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats -

And Saints - to windows run -

To see the little Tippler

Leaning against the - Sun!

225

I’m “wife” - I’ve finished that -

That other state -

I’m Czar - I’m “Woman” now -

It’s safer so -

How odd the Girl’s life looks

Behind this soft Eclipse -

I think that Earth feels so

To folks in Heaven - now -

This being comfort - then

That other kind - was pain -

But Why compare?

I’m “Wife”! Stop there!

236

Some keep the Sabbath going to Church -

I keep it, staying at Home -

With a Bobolink for a Chorister -

And an Orchard, for a Dome -

Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice

I, just wear my Wings -

And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,

Our little Sexton - sings.

God preaches, a noted Clergyman -

And the sermon is never long,

So instead of getting to Heaven, at last -

I’m going, all along.

269

Wild nights - Wild nights!

Were I with thee

Wild nights should be

Our luxury!

Futile - the winds -

To a Heart in port -

Done with the Compass -

Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden -

Ah - the Sea!

Might I but moor - tonight -

In thee!

320

There’s a certain Slant of light,

Winter Afternoons -

That oppresses, like the Heft

Of Cathedral Tunes -

Heavenly Hurt, it gives us -

We can find no scar,

But internal difference -

Where the Meanings, are -

None may teach it - Any -

’Tis the Seal Despair -

An imperial affliction

Sent us of the Air -

When it comes, the Landscape listens -

Shadows - hold their breath -

When it goes, ’tis like the Distance

On the look of Death –

339

I like a look of Agony,

Because I know it’s true -

Men do not sham Convulsion,

Nor simulate, a Throe -

The eyes glaze once - and that is Death -

Impossible to feign

The Beads opon the Forehead

By homely Anguish strung.

340

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners to and fro

Kept treading - treading - till it seemed

That Sense was breaking through -

And when they all were seated,

A Service, like a Drum -

Kept beating - beating - till I thought

My mind was going numb -

And then I heard them lift a Box

And creak across my Soul

With those same Boots of Lead, again,

Then Space - began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,

And Being, but an Ear,

And I, and Silence, some strange Race

Wrecked, solitary, here -

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down -

And hit a World, at every plunge,

And Finished knowing - then –

353

I’m ceded - I’ve stopped being Their’s -

The name They dropped opon my face

With water, in the country church

Is finished using, now,

And They can put it with my Dolls,

My childhood, and the string of spools,

I’ve finished threading - too -

Baptized, before, without the choice,

But this time, consciously, Of Grace -

Unto supremest name -

Called to my Full - The Crescent dropped -

Existence’s whole Arc, filled up,

With one - small Diadem -

My second Rank - too small the first -

Crowned - Crowing - on my Father’s breast -

A half unconscious Queen -

But this time - Adequate - Erect,

With Will to choose,

Or to reject,

And I choose, just a Crown –

359

A Bird, came down the Walk -

He did not know I saw -

He bit an Angle Worm in halves

And ate the fellow, raw,

And then, he drank a Dew

From a convenient Grass -

And then hopped sidewise to the Wall

To let a Beetle pass -

He glanced with rapid eyes,

That hurried all abroad -

They looked like frightened Beads, I thought,

He stirred his Velvet Head. -

Like one in danger, Cautious,

I offered him a Crumb,

And he unrolled his feathers,

And rowed him softer Home -

Than Oars divide the Ocean,

Too silver for a seam,

Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon,

Leap, plashless as they swim.

372

After great pain, a formal feeling comes -

The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs -

The stiff Heart questions ‘was it He, that bore,’

And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’?

The Feet, mechanical, go round -

A Wooden way

Of Ground, or Air, or Ought -

Regardless grown,

A Quartz contentment, like a stone -

This is the Hour of Lead -

Remembered, if outlived,

As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow -

First - Chill - then Stupor - then the letting go –

409

The Soul selects her own Society -

Then - shuts the Door -

To her divine Majority -

Present no more -

Unmoved - she notes the Chariots - pausing -

At her low Gate -

Unmoved - an Emperor be kneeling

Opon her Mat -

I’ve known her - from an ample nation -

Choose One -

Then - close the Valves of her attention -

Like Stone –

448

I died for Beauty - but was scarce

Adjusted in the Tomb

When One who died for Truth, was lain

In an adjoining Room -

He questioned softly “Why I failed”?

“For Beauty”, I replied -

“And I - for Truth - Themself are One -

We Bretheren, are”, He said -

And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night -

We talked between the Rooms -

Until the Moss had reached our lips -

And covered up - Our names –

479

Because I could not stop for Death -

He kindly stopped for me -

The Carriage held but just Ourselves -

And Immortality.

We slowly drove - He knew no haste

And I had put away

My labor and my leisure too,

For His Civility -

We passed the School, where Children strove

At Recess - in the Ring -

We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain -

We passed the Setting Sun -

Or rather - He passed Us -

The Dews drew quivering and Chill -

For only Gossamer, my Gown -

My Tippet - only Tulle -

We paused before a House that seemed

A Swelling of the Ground -

The Roof was scarcely visible -

The Cornice - in the Ground -

Since then - ’tis Centuries - and yet

Feels shorter than the Day

I first surmised the Horses’ Heads

Were toward Eternity –

519

This is my letter to the World

That never wrote to Me -

The simple News that Nature told -

With tender Majesty

Her Message is committed

To Hands I cannot see -

For love of Her - Sweet - countrymen -

Judge tenderly - of Me

591

I heard a Fly buzz - when I died -

The Stillness in the Room

Was like the Stillness in the Air -

Between the Heaves of Storm -

The Eyes around - had wrung them dry -

And Breaths were gathering firm

For that last Onset - when the King

Be witnessed - in the Room -

I willed my Keepsakes - Signed away

What portion of me be

Assignable - and then it was

There interposed a Fly -

With Blue - uncertain - stumbling Buzz -

Between the light - and me -

And then the Windows failed - and then

I could not see to see –

598

The Brain - is wider than the Sky -

For - put them side by side -

The one the other will contain

With ease - and You - beside -

The Brain is deeper than the sea -

For - hold them - Blue to Blue -

The one the other will absorb -

As Sponges - Buckets - do -

The Brain is just the weight of God -

For - Heft them - Pound for Pound -

And they will differ - if they do -

As Syllable from Sound –

620

Much Madness is divinest Sense -

To a discerning Eye -

Much Sense - the starkest Madness -

’Tis the Majority

In this, as all, prevail -

Assent - and you are sane -

Demur - you’re straightway dangerous -

And handled with a Chain –

656

I started Early - Took my Dog -

And visited the Sea -

The Mermaids in the Basement

Came out to look at me -

And Frigates - in the Upper Floor

Extended Hempen Hands -

Presuming Me to be a Mouse -

Aground - opon the Sands -

But no Man moved Me - till the Tide

Went past my simple Shoe -

And past my Apron - and my Belt

And past my Boddice - too -

And made as He would eat me up -

As wholly as a Dew

Opon a Dandelion’s Sleeve -

And then - I started - too -

And He - He followed - close behind -

I felt His Silver Heel

Opon my Ancle - Then My Shoes

Would overflow with Pearl -

Until We met the Solid Town -

No One He seemed to know -

And bowing - with a Mighty look -

At me - The Sea withdrew –

706

I cannot live with You -

It would be Life -

And Life is over there -

Behind the Shelf

The Sexton keeps the key to -

Putting up

Our Life - His Porcelain -

Like a Cup -

Discarded of the Housewife -

Quaint - or Broke -

A new Sevres pleases -

Old Ones crack -

I could not die - with You -

For One must wait

To shut the Other’s Gaze down -

You - could not -

And I - Could I stand by

And see You - freeze -

Without my Right of Frost -

Death’s privilege?

Nor could I rise - with You -

Because Your Face

Would put out Jesus’ -

That New Grace

Glow plain - and foreign

On my homesick eye -

Except that You than He

Shone closer by -

They’d judge Us - How -

For You - served Heaven - You know,

Or sought to -

I could not -

Because You saturated sight -

And I had no more eyes

For sordid excellence

As Paradise

And were You lost, I would be -

Though my name

Rang loudest

On the Heavenly fame -

And were You - saved -

And I - condemned to be

Where You were not

That self - were Hell to me -

So we must meet apart -

You there - I - here -

With just the Door ajar

That Oceans are - and Prayer -

And that White Sustenance -

Despair –

764

My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -

In Corners - till a Day

The Owner passed - identified -

And carried Me away -

And now We roam in Sovreign Woods -

And now We hunt the Doe -

And every time I speak for Him

The Mountains straight reply -

And do I smile, such cordial light

Opon the Valley glow -

It is as a Vesuvian face

Had let it’s pleasure through

And when at Night - Our good Day done -

I guard My Master’s Head -

’Tis better than the Eider Duck’s

Deep Pillow - to have shared -

To foe of His - I’m deadly foe -

None stir the second time -

On whom I lay a Yellow Eye -

Or an emphatic Thumb -

Though I than He - may longer live

He longer must - than I -

For I have but the power to kill,

Without - the power to die –

1096

A narrow Fellow in the Grass

Occasionally rides -

You may have met him? Did you not

His notice instant is -

The Grass divides as with a Comb -

A spotted Shaft is seen,

And then it closes at your Feet

And opens further on -

He likes a Boggy Acre -

A Floor too cool for Corn -

But when a Boy and Barefoot

I more than once at Noon

Have passed I thought a Whip Lash

Unbraiding in the Sun

When stooping to secure it

It wrinkled And was gone -

Several of Nature’s People

I know and they know me

I feel for them a transport

Of Cordiality

But never met this Fellow

Attended or alone

Without a tighter Breathing

And Zero at the Bone.

1263

Tell all the truth but tell it slant -

Success in Circuit lies

Too bright for our infirm Delight

The Truth’s superb surprise

As Lightning to the Children eased

With explanation kind

The Truth must dazzle gradually

Or every man be blind –

1668

Apparently with no surprise

To any happy Flower

The Frost beheads it at it’s play -

In accidental power -

The blonde Assassin passes on -

The Sun proceeds unmoved

To measure off another Day

For an Approving God –

1773

My life closed twice before it’s close;

It yet remains to see

If Immortality unveil

A third event to me,

So huge, so hopeless to conceive

As these that twice befell.

Parting is all we know of heaven,

And all we need of hell.

Poems by Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

Reference

Baym, Nina. (11/2011). The Norton Anthology of American Literature, Volume 2, 8th Edition. [VitalSource Bookshelf Online]. Retrieved from https://bookshelf.vitalsource.com/#/books/9780393522761/