Month: January 2025

Variant A. Sent to Sue; signed Emily; Lines 1-10 (first leaf) missing.
(ED’s alternative words in parentheses)

Nor Myself to Him, by accent
Forfeit probity.
Weariness of Him, were quainter
Than Monotony
Knew a particle, of Space’s
Vast society –
Neither if He visit other –
Do He dwell or nay
Know I – just (But) instinct esteem Him
Immortality

Variant B

Conscious am I in my Chamber –
Of a shapeless friend –
He doth not attest by Posture –
Nor confirm – by Word –

Neither Place – need I present Him –
Fitter Courtesy
Hospitable intuition
Of His Company –

Presence – is His furthest license –
Neither He to Me
Nor Myself to Him – by Accent –
Forfeit Probity

Weariness of Him, were quainter
Than Monotony
Knew a Particle – of
Space’s Vast Society –

Neither if He visit Other –
Do He dwell – or Nay – know I-
But Instinct esteem Him (Report Him)
Immortality –

Manuscripts: Two (one lost in part), variant, about late 1863. A fair copy signed “Emily” was sent to Susan Dickinson. The first leaf, now missing, carried the first ten lines; the surviving leaf begins with line 11.

Variant A   

Nor Myself to Him, by accent Forfeit probity
Weariness of Him, were quainter
Than Monotony
Knew a particle, of Space’s
Vast society –
Neither if He visit other – Do He dwell or nay
Know I – just (But) instinct esteem Him
Immortality

Variant B   

Conscious am I in my Chamber – Of a shapeless friend –
He doth not attest by Posture – Nor confirm – by Word –
Neither Place – need I present Him – Fitter Courtesy
Hospitable intuition Of His Company –

Presence – is His furthest license –
Neither He to MeNor Myself to Him – by Accent – Forfeit Probity

Weariness of Him, were quainter
Than Monotony
Knew a Particle – of Space’s Vast Society –

Neither if He visit Other –
Do He dwell – or Nay – know I- But Instinct esteem Him (Report Him)

Immortality –

I think the longest Hour of all
Is when the Cars have come —
And we are waiting for the Coach —
It seems as though the Time

Indignant — that the Joy was come —
Did block the Gilded Hands —
And would not let the Seconds by —
But slowest instant — ends —

The Pendulum begins to count —
Like little Scholars — loud —
The steps grow thicker — in the Hall —
The Heart begins to crowd —

Then I — my timid service done —
Tho’ service ’twas, of Love —
Take up my little Violin —
And further North — remove –

ED used the word:

“North” in 14 Poems,
“East” in 30 poems,
“South” in 16 poems,
“West” in 27 poems,

and sometimes she used two or more of these in one poem.

During 1850-1853, ED’s father led a small group of investors who built the Amherst and Belchertown Railroad, connecting Amherst with the American rail system. No doubt he was the one who encouraged locating the passenger station on Main Street, 200 yards east of Homestead. Perhaps Time did “block the Gilded Hands” of the clock, but not for very long. With no luggage, visitors could easily walk to Homestead in 10 minutes.

Despite ED’s impatience with Time, when she heard steps “in the Hall” she “timidly” bid hello, felt crowded in her “Heart”, and vanished to her room to play her “little violin”, that is, to compose poetry. ED often referred to composing poems as “singing”, but she used the “violin” metaphor twice, here in F607 and 20 years later in F1627 (1883), ‘The Spirit lasts — but in what mode’.

From Cocoon forth a Butterfly
As Lady from her Door
Emerged — a Summer Afternoon —
Repairing Everywhere —

Without Design — that I could trace
Except to stray abroad
On miscellaneous Enterprise
The Clovers — understood —

Her pretty Parasol be seen
Contracting in a Field
Where Men made Hay —
Then struggling hard
With an opposing Cloud —

Where Parties — Phantom as Herself —
To Nowhere — seemed to go
In purposeless Circumference —
As ’twere a Tropic Show —

And notwithstanding Bee — that worked —
And Flower — that zealous blew —
This Audience of Idleness
Disdained them, from the Sky —

Till Sundown crept — a steady Tide —
And Men that made the Hay —
And Afternoon — and Butterfly —
Extinguished — in the Sea —

F609 and F610 feel related, both about passing days, both in languid language, and actors in both, grains of sand and butterflies, vanish in time’s sea. Perhaps that’s why Franklin numbered them consecutively.

However, he dated them “summer 1863” and “last half 1863”, and ED put them in Fascicle 26 (Poem 21) and Fascicle 29 (Poem 1), respectively. Also, F609 is a love poem of patient waiting for reunion in heaven, while F610 segues from a summer day (Stanzas 1-4) to meaningless merging with the sea (Stanzas 5-6).

F609-F610 inference? Make hay while the sun shines for tomorrow the bell tolls for thee?

A Night — there lay the Days between —
The Day that was Before —
And Day that was Behind — were One —
And now — ’twas Night — was here —

Slow — Night — that must be watched away —
As Grains upon a shore —
Too imperceptible to note —
Till it be night — no more —

An interpretation of F609:

For ED, the first “Day” of this poem began in March 1855, when she heard Wadsworth preach in Philadelphia. That day ended for her on May 1, 1862 when Wadsworth “abandoned” her by sailing from New York, bound for San Francisco. She thought he had left her for the rest of her life. She hoped the “Night” between his “abandonment” and her death would end their separation and that Wadsworth would meet and marry her in Heaven, as he promised. The second “Day” of the poem presumably would begin when she died (May 15, 1886) and last for eternity.

When ED composed this poem in 1863, the looming real days between May 1, 1862 and her death (8780 days) would feel like “Grains [of sand] upon a shore”, too numerous to count. But then, like Dante, she would emerge from her dark “Night” of abandonment into the bright “Day” of Heaven.

Of course, Dante and Virgil emerged from Hell at night and “looked up at the stars”. ED would emerge from her long “Night” of abandonment into Heaven’s eternal “Day”. Also, when she wrote this poem in 1863, she did not know when Wadsworth or she would die, but he had promised to meet and marry her on the day the last one died.

In her vivid imagination, the two “Days” in the poem merged to become “One” (Line 3).

So glad we are — a stranger’d deem
‘Twas sorry – that we were —
For where the Holiday – should be –
There publishes – a Tear —

Nor how Ourselves be justified —
Since Grief and Joy are done
So similar — An Optizan
Could not decide between —

Neither ED’s Webster nor OED recognize “optizan” as a word. OED recognizes “shazam” (1940, A ‘magic’ word used like ‘abracadabra’ or ‘presto’ to introduce an extraordinary deed or story), so why not “optizam”? Google defines “optizam” with a verbatim quote of BYU’s ED Lexicon, but ED Lex disclaims any responsibility for its definition:

Optizan, n. [etymology unknown; definition not attested.] (figurative): “seer; visionary; scientist; wise man; person of discernment”

The word works wonderfully, don’t you think? An ED original or slang she picked up from her lawyer brother or father? Nowadays, “optizan” is a lost pearl in the trash heap of English woulda, coulda, shouldabeens.

An interpretation of F608:

So glad I am, a stranger would deem, from my outer demeaner, but in my heart I cried because it’s Holiday, and the one I love is not here.

No one can see my real feelings, since tears of grief and tears of joy cannot be distinguished. Even Solomon cannot tell the difference.