Emily Dickinson

“ It has been in my thought by day, and my dreams by night, ever since I heard of South Hadley Seminary. I fear I am anticipating too much, and that some freak of fortune may overturn all my airy schemes for future happiness. But it is my nature always to anticipate more than I realize.... Have you not heard that Miss Adams—dear Miss Adams—is here this term? Oh, you cannot imagine how natural it seems to see her happy face in school once more. But it needs Harriet, Sarah, and your own dear self to complete the ancient picture. I hope we shall get you all back before Miss Adams goes away again. ”

“ MY DEAR FRIEND,— What portfolios full of verses you must have! It is a cruel wrong to your "day and generation" that you will not give them light.
If such a thing should happen as that I should outlive you, I wish you would make me your literary legatee and executor. Surely after you are what is called "dead" you will be willing that the poor ghosts you have left behind should be cheered and pleased by your verses, will you not? You ought to be. I do not think we have a right to withhold from the world a word or a thought any more than a deed which might help a single soul. ”

“ RENUNCIATION.
There came a day at summer's full
Entirely for me;
I thought that such were for the saints,
Where revelations be.
The sun, as common, went abroad,
The flowers, accustomed, blew,
As if no soul the solstice passed
That maketh all things new.
The time was scarce profaned by speech;
The symbol of a word
Was needless, as at sacrament
The wardrobe of our Lord.
Each was to each the sealed church,
Permitted to commune this time,
Lest we too awkward show
At supper of the Lamb.
The hours slid fast, as hours will,
Clutched tight by greedy hands ”

“ I measure every grief I meet
With analytic eyes;
I wonder if it weighs like mine,
Or has an easier size.
I wonder if they bore it long,
Or did it just begin?
I could not tell the date of mine,
It feels so old a pain.
I wonder if it hurts to live,
And if they have to try,
And whether, could they choose between,
They would not rather die.
I wonder if when years have piled —
Some thousands — on the cause
Of early hurt, if such a lapse
Could give them any pause;
Or would they go on aching still
Through centuries above,
Enlightened to a larger pain
By contrast with the love.
The grieved are many, I am told; ”

“ Defeat means nothing but defeat,
No drearier can prevail!
And if I gain, — oh, gun at sea,
Oh, bells that in the steeples be,
At first repeat it slow!
For heaven is a different thing
Conjectured, and waked sudden in,
And might o'erwhelm me so!
V. Glee! The great storm is over!
Four have recovered the land;
Forty gone down together
Into the boiling sand.
Ring, for the scant salvation!
Toll, for the bonnie souls, —
Neighbor and friend and bridegroom,
Spinning upon the shoals!
How they will tell the shipwreck
When winter shakes the door,
Till the children ask, "But the forty? ”

“ Mortality is fatal
Gentility is fine
Rascality, heroic
Insolvency, sublime
Our Fathers being weary
Laid down on Bunker Hill
And though full many a morn'g
Yet they are sleeping still
The trumpet sir, shall wake them
In streams I see them rise
Each with a solemn musket
A marching to the skies!
A coward will remain, Sir,
Until the fight is done;
But an immortal hero
Will take his hat and run. ”

“ I dwelt, as if Myself, were out,
My Body but within
Until a Might detected me
And set my kernel in.
And Spirit turned unto the Dust
"Old Friend, thou knowest me,"
And Time went out to tell the News
And met Eternity. ”

“ In her innocent love of mystery and intrigue Aunt Emily reminds one of Stevenson. She would have played at "lantern bearers" with him, and given the stealthy countersign under her breath, as no other living urchin!
She was "eternally preoccupied with death" as any of Pater's giant Florentines, but though the supernatural had the supreme hold on her imagination and conjecture, every lesser mystery was a panic and an ecstasy. If she could contrive to outwit domestic vigilance and smuggle a box of fresh-laid eggs to my Mother, on the sly, it savored to her of piracy and brigandage. ”

“ There is a flower that bees prefer,
There is a shame of nobleness
There is a word
There is no frigate like a book
There's a certain slant of light,
There's been a death in the opposite house
There's something quieter than sleep
These are the days when birds come back,
They dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars,
They say that 'time assuages,' —
They won't frown always, — some sweet day
This is my letter to the world,
This is the land the sunset washes,
This merit hath the worst, —
This was in the white of the year,
This world is not conclusion ”

“ I Years had been from Home
And now before the Door
I dared not enter, lest a Face
I never saw before
Stare solid into mine
And ask my Business there —
"My Business but a Life I left
Was such remaining there?" ”

“ She stopped — a Traveller's privilege — for Rest —
And there upon
I gazed — as at a stranger —
The Lady in the Town
Doth think no incivility
To lift her Glass — upon —
But never Stranger justified
The Curiosity
Like Mine — for not a Foot — nor Hand —
Nor Formula — had she —
But like a Head — a Guillotine
Slid carelessly away —
Did independent, Amber —
Sustain her in the sky ”

“ I'd brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.
If I could see you in a year,
I'd wind the months in balls,
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls. ”

“ Beyond my power to deem —
To have a smile for Mine — each Day,
How better, than a Gem!
At least, it solaces to know
That there exists — a Gold —
Altho' I prove it, just in time
Its distance — to behold ”

“ We are far too grand —
But we bolt the door tight
To prevent a friend —
Then we hide our brave face
Deep in our hand —
Not to cry — Tim and I —
We are far too grand —
Nor to dream — he and me —
Do we condescend —
We just shut our brown eye
To see to the end ”

“ Why, God, would be content
With but a fraction of the Life —
Poured thee, without a stint —
The whole of me — forever —
What more the Woman can,
Say quick, that I may dower thee
With last Delight I own! ”

“ Can pierce an armed man -
It hurls it's barbed syllables
And is mute again -
But where it fell
The saved will tell
On patriotic day,
Some epauletted Brother
Gave his breath away.
Wherever runs the breathless sun -
Wherever roams the day -
There is it's noiseless onset -
There is it's victory!
Behold the keenest marsman!
The most accomplished host!
Time's sublimest target
Is a soul "forgot"! ”

“ Her face be rounder than the Moon
And ruddier than the Gown
Or Orchis in the Pasture —
Or Rhododendron — worn —
She doth not wait for June —
Before the World be Green —
Her sturdy little Countenance
Against the Wind — be seen ”

“ Most — I love the Cause that slew Me.
Often as I die
Its beloved Recognition
Holds a Sun on Me —
Best — at Setting — as is Nature's —
Neither witnessed Rise
Till the infinite Aurora
In the other's eyes. ”

“ I have a King, who does not speak —
So — wondering — thro' the hours meek
I trudge the day away —
Half glad when it is night, and sleep,
If, haply, thro' a dream, to peep
In parlors, shut by day. ”

“ How long a Day I could endure
Though thine attention stop not on me
Nor the least signal, Me assure —
Wert Thou but Stranger in ungracious country —
And Mine — the Door
Thou paused at, for a passing bounty —
No More ”

“ I never told the buried gold
Opon the hill that lies -
I saw the sun, his plunder done -
Crouch low to guard his prize -
He stood as near
As stood you hear -
A pace had been between -
Did but a snake bisect the brake
My life had forfeit been. ”

“ Could waste the Snow before their Gate —
And knew One Bird a Tune —
Could thrill their Mortised Ear
Of all the Birds that be —
This One — beloved of Mankind
Henceforward cherished be —
What care the Dead for Winter? ”

“ At last — the Grace in sight —
I shout unto my feet —
I offer them the Whole of Heaven
The instant that we meet —
They strive — and yet delay —
They perish — Do we die —
Or is this Death's Experiment —
Reversed — in Victory? ”

“ I pushed my dimples by, and waited —
If they — twinkled back —
Conviction might, of me —
I told myself, "Take Courage, Friend —
That — was a former time —
But we might learn to like the Heaven,
As well as our Old Home!" ”

“ That dull — benumbing time
There is in Fever or Event —
And now the Chance had come —
The instant holding in its claw
The privilege to live
Or warrant to report the Soul
The other side the Grave. ”

“ The Sun — just touched the Morning —
The Morning — Happy thing —
Supposed that He had come to dwell —
And Life would all be Spring!
She felt herself supremer —
A Raised — Ethereal Thing!
Henceforth — for Her — What Holiday! ”

“ Did I not take it from the ways,
And lift it up to thee!
Only a bee will miss it;
Only a butterfly,
Hastening from far journey,
On it's breast to lie.
Only a bird will wonder;
Only a breeze will sigh ”