Year: 2025

ED’s alternate word in parentheses. My word interpretations in brackets.

There is a June when Corn is cut
And Roses in the Seed—
A Summer briefer than the first
But tenderer indeed

As should a Face supposed the Grave’s
Emerge a single Noon
In the Vermilion that it wore
Affect us, and return—

Two Seasons, it is said, exist—
The Summer of the Just
And this of Ours, diversified
With Prospect [Expected joy], and with Frost [Pain] —

May not our Second with its First
So infinite compare
That We but recollect the one
The other to prefer (adore)?

Stanza 1

In western Massachusetts, corn (maize) was harvested in late summer/early autumn, not June, which is the clue that this poem is about Indian Summer, a period of warm, sunny, and dry weather that occurs in the autumn, usually after the first frost. Though brief, Indian Summer resurrects fleeting feelings of summertime, which ED described as “tenderer indeed”.

Stanza 2

A memory of a ruddy-cheeked face that ED thought she’d never see again appeared for a single “Noon”, woke memories of a “summer’s day” (perhaps Fr325, 1862?) in 1860, then vanished into time. For ED, that face was Wadsworth’s.

So much for Stanzas 1-2, but then along comes Stanza 3, which adds some boundaries to our interpretations [brackets mine]:

Stanza 3

Two Seasons, it is said, exist—
The Summer of the Just
And this of Ours, diversified
With Prospect [Expected joy], and with Frost [Pain] —

ED’s “First” summer was her “Summer of the Just” (Line 10), where “Just” means “perfected ones; those made whole” [EDLex, Definition 2 of “Just”].

ED realized that Indian Summer, her earthly “Second” summer, would be “diversified / With Prospect [Expected Joy], and with Frost [Pain]”, but she felt that “Frost” on Earth would be worth enduring when she finally arrives at her Heavenly “Second” summer with Wadsworth:

“. . . we shall rise—
Deposed—at length—the Grave—
To that new Marriage—
Justified—through Calvaries of Love!”

‘There came a Day—at Summer’s full’, Fr325, Stanza 7

Stanza 4

“May not our Second [“Summer”] with its First
So infinite compare
That We but recollect the one [the first summer]
The other to prefer?”

 

This poem, ‘There is a June when Corn is cut’ (F811), got me wondering how many “Indian Summer” poems ED composed. The answer is at least nine:

1. F122 ‘These are the days when Birds come back’
   2. F265 ‘It cant be “Summer”!’
   3. F363 ‘I know a place where Summer strives’
   4. F408 ‘Like some Old fashioned Miracle’
   5. F520 ‘God made a little Gentian’
   6. F811 ‘There is a June when Corn is cut’
   7. F1412 ‘How know it from a Summer’s Day?’
   8. F1419 ‘A – Field of Stubble, lying sere’
   9. F1457 ‘Summer has two Beginnings‘

My primary source for finding eight of these poem titles was ‘Emily Dickinson: Notes on All Her Poems’ by David Preest, which was available free on the Internet until a few years ago. Tom C added the ninth in his comment of October 1, 2025, on The Prowling Bee ( ‘There is a June when Corn is cut’, F811)

Love reckons by itself—alone
“As large as I”—relate the Sun
To One who never felt it blaze—
Itself is all the like it has—

I feel the aloneness of the speaker. The poem is I-oriented, not we-oriented. Knowing ED’s preference for isolation in her bedroom and her inclination for self-absorption, Lines 3 and 4 seem pseudo-wise words based on limited personal experience.

Sewall (1974), ED’s premier biographer, put it bluntly:

“[ED’s] failures, certainly, were with people. Throughout her life, she never achieved a single, wholly satisfying relationship with anybody she had to be near, or with, for any length of time. Vinnie was the closest, perhaps; but even she spoke of her family as living together like “friendly and absolute monarchs” (Higginson, we recall, likened them to federated states in a commonwealth, where “each member runs his or her own selves”). . . . .

“All her life she demanded too much of people. Her early girl friends could hardly keep up with her tumultuous letters or, like Sue, could not or would not take her into their lives as she wanted to be taken. They had other concerns. The young men, save for a few who had amusing or edifying intellectual exchanges with her, apparently shied away. Eliza Coleman’s fear that her friends in Amherst  “wholly misinterpret” her, was a polite way of saying, perhaps, that they would not respond with the intensity she apparently demanded of everyone. She seemed unable to take friendship casually, nor could she be realistic about love. The result was excessive tension at every meeting, so that meetings themselves became ordeals. One such meeting was enough for Higginson (“I am glad not to live near her”); in her own economy, she found that she had to ration them very carefully. And when she fell in love, all this was further intensified. The one meeting recorded in this letter, when she asked her Master for Redemption, spelled at once her joy and her tragedy. It exalted her-she bloomed like the rose, she soared like the bird-but it plunged her into “Chillon,” the captive of her own soaring fantasy about love.”

Sewall, Richard B., 1974. The Life of Emily Dickinson, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA, pp 517-518

How well I knew Her not
Whom not to know has been
A Bounty in prospective, now
Next Door to mine the Pain.

Miller (1924) tells us ED sent this poem to Maria Whitney, about February 11, 1864. Austin visited Whitney in Northampton on February 11 before she sailed for California on the 13^th to look after the six children of her sister, Elizabeth Whitney Putnam, who died June 1863 in San Francisco.

I think the personal level of Fr813 runs deep, especially enjambed Lines 3 & 4: “now / Next Door to mine the Pain”. In her own way, ED empathizes with Maria’s loss of a sister because she has also lost a sister. In fact, ED’s “dead sister” lives “Next Door”, which daily “mine[s] the Pain”.

In March 1853 Susan and Austin became engaged after a tryst at the Revere Hotel in Boston. For obvious reasons, Sue had to cool her relationship with Emily, and on April 1, 1854, ED responded sharply to Sue (L172): “You can go or stay”.

In late 1858, perhaps as a birthday greeting on Sue’s birthday, 19 December, ED tried to mend bridges with ‘One Sister have I’ (Fr5, 1858), but the rift never healed.

“One Sister have I in our house,
And one, a hedge away.
There’s only one recorded,
But both belong to me.

One came the road that I came —
And wore my last year’s gown —
The other, as a bird her nest,
Builded our hearts among.

She did not sing as we did —
It was a different tune —
Herself to her a music
As Bumble bee of June.

Today is far from Childhood —
But up and down the hills
I held her hand the tighter —
Which shortened all the miles —

And still her hum
The years among,
Deceives the Butterfly;
Still in her Eye
The Violets lie
Mouldered this many May.

I spilt the dew —
But took the morn —
I chose this single star
From out the wide night’s numbers —
Sue – forevermore!

Those last two stanzas are among the most poignant ED ever wrote. She “spilt the dew” and has been ruing it for 10 years (1854-1864).

Soto! Explore thyself!
Therein thyself shalt find
The “Undiscovered Continent”—
No Settler, had the Mind.

We have three variants of this poem in ED’s handwriting.

About 1864, ED sent Variant A to Austin as a letter with a comma after “Mind” and her signature immediately following the comma. I think the comma at the end of this variant is simply the traditional way to close a letter, with a comma followed by a signature, e.g., “Cheers, Emily”.

Apparently, ED sent or intended to send Variant B to someone else because it also has a comma immediately after “Mind” and is signed.

Variant C is obviously for retention because it is on a page with another poem, has a period immediately after “Mind”, and is not signed.

ED’s imperative “Explore thyself!” might have been alluding to Luke 4: 23-24 (“Physician, heal thyself”) or the Delphic Oracle of Apollo’s command to, “Know Thyself!” Possibly, Austin complained to his sister about some personal problem, and this poem was her answer. ED was well aware that his marriage with Susan was not made in heaven, particularly with regard to sexual matters.

 

To this World she returned.
But with a tinge of that—
A Compound manner,
As a Sod
Espoused a Violet,
That chiefer to the Skies
Than to himself, allied,
Dwelt hesitating, half of Dust,
And half of Day, the Bride.

“There are two copies, about 1864 and 1865. The earlier one, addressed “Mrs Gertrude,” was sent to Gertrude Lefferts Vanderbilt about September 1864. Wounded on 20 March 1864 by her maid’s rejected suitor, she had not been expected to survive. In September, when Susan Dickinson was able to write of Vanderbilt’s recovery, ED responded: “I am glad Mrs – Gertrude lived – I believed she would – Those that are worthy of Life are of Miracle, for Life is Miracle, and Death, as harmless as a Bee, except to those who run -” (Franklin 1998 Work Metadata)

 

“That” is one weird get-well poem.

I wonder whether Mrs. Vanderbilt had any inkling of ED’s intent, any vague idea this poem had anything to do with her being shot by an irate rejected suitor of her maid or her recovery from said shot.

Weird. Only Emily.

It can’t be “Summer”!
That – got through!
It’s early – yet – for “Spring”!
There’s that long town of White – to cross –
Before the Blackbirds sing!
It can’t be “Dying”!
It’s too Rouge –
The Dead shall go in White –
So Sunset shuts my question down
With Cuffs of Chrysolite!

In biblical times and ancient history, “chrysolite” referred to various yellowish and greenish stones, a versatile term for expensive and prized gems. Olivine (Chrysolite) is considered a hard mineral, ranking between 6.5 and 7 on the Mohs hardness scale, which means it is harder than glass and can scratch it.

Nice to see a fun poem amid the pain and introspection. ED manages to sneak in “Summer”, “Spring”, and “Dying” with caps and quotes, usually signals of metaphors, but they aren’t obvious here.

“So Sunset shuts my question down” begs a question mark somewhere, but it’s only implied.

ED poses a riddle: What season is it?

One by one she tells us the season is not summer, spring, fall, or winter, in that order. Lines 1-3 imply the weather is warm and the sunset gorgeous. So, what’s the answer to ED’s riddle?

She got us! It’s Indian Summer, of course.

These are the days when Birds come back—
A very few—a Bird or two—
To take a backward look.

These are the days when skies resume
The old—old sophistries of June—
A blue and gold mistake.

Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee—
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief.

Till ranks of seeds their witness bear—
And softly thro’ the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf.

Oh sacrament of summer days,
Oh Last Communion in the Haze—
Permit a child to join.

Thy sacred emblems to partake—
Thy consecrated bread to take
And thine immortal wine!

Apparently, ED never took communion at church, as a child because of Christian custom or as an adult because of agnostic honesty. But both children and agnostics can joyously partake in the Sacrament of Indian-Summer, its bread and wine the golden hues and crisp cool air.