Poets And Poetry Of New England
Emily Dickinson: Selected Poems
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"249"
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!
1861
"199"
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 the Earth feels to
To folks in Heaven---now---
this being comfort---then
The other kind---was pain---
But why compare?
I'm "Wife"! Stop there!
1860
"1670"
In Winter in my Room
I came upon a Worm---
Pink, lank and warm---
But as he was a worm
And worms presume
Not quite with him at home---
Secured him by a string
To something neighboring
And went along.
A Trifle afterward
A thing occurred
I'd not believe it if I heard
But state with creeping blood---
A snake with mottles rare
Surveyed my chamber floor
In feature as the worm before
But ringed with power---
The very string with which
I tied him---too
When he was mean and new
That string was there---
I shrank---"How fair you are!"
Propitiation's claw---
"Afraid," he hissed
"Of me?"
"No cordiality"---
Then to a Rhythm Slim
Secreted in his Form
As Patterns Swim
Projected him.
That time I flew
Both eyes his way
Lest he pursue
Nor ever ceased to run
Till a distant Town
Towns on from mine
I set me down
This was a dream.
"937"
I felt a Cleaving in my Mind---
As if my Brain had split---
I tried to match it---Seam by Seam---
But could not make them fit.
The thought behind, I strove to join
Unto the thought before---
But Sequence raveled out of Sound
Like Balls---upon a Floor.
1854
"1732"
My life closed twice before its 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.
"650"
Pain---has an Element of Blank---
It cannot recollect
When it begun---or if there were
A time when it was not---
It has no Future---but itself---
Its Infinite contain
Its Past---enlightened to perceive
New Periods---of Pain.
1862
"327"
Before I got my eye put out
I liked as well to see---
As other Creatures, that have Eyes
And knew no other way---
But were it told to me---Today---
That I might have the sky
For mine---I tell you that my Heart
Would split, for size of me---
The Meadows---mine---
The mountains---mine---
All Forests---Stintless Starts---
As much of Noon as I could take
Between my finite eyes---
The Motions of the Dipping Birds---
The Morning's Amber Road---
For mine---to look at when I liked---
The News would strike me dead---
So safer guess---with just my soul
Upon the Window pane---
Where other Creatures put their eyes---
Incautious---of the Sun---
1862
"280"
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 were all 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,
The 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---
1861
"443"
I tie my Hat---I crease my Shawl---
Life's little duties do---precisely---
As the very least
Were infinite---to me---
I put new blossoms in the Glass---
And throw the old---away---
I push a petal from my Gown
That anchored there---I weigh
The time 'twill be till six o'clock
I have so much to do---
And yet Existence---some way back---
Stopped---struck---my ticking---through---
We cannot put Ourself away
As a completed Man
Or Woman---When the errands done
We came to Flesh upon---
There may be---Miles on Miles of Naught---
Of Action---sicker far---
To simulate---is stinging work---
To cover what we are
From Science---and from Surgery---
Too telescopic Eyes
To bear on us unshaded---
For their sake---not for Ours---
T'would start them---
We---could tremble---
But since we got a bomb---
And held it in our Bosom---
Nay---Hold it---it is calm---
Therefore---we do life's labor---
Through life's Reward be done
With scrupulous exactness---
To hold our senses---on---
1862
"341"
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---
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought---
A wooden way
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---the Stupor---then the letting go---
"640"
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 newer 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 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---
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