842.1864.Patience—has a quiet Outer—

842.1864.Patience—has a quiet Outer—

Patience—has a quiet Outer—
Patience—Look within—
Is an Insect’s futile forces
Infinites—between—

‘Scaping one—against the other
Fruitlesser to fling—
Patience—is the Smile’s exertion
Through the quivering—
……………………………………………………………………..

My biographical interpretation of ‘Patience—has a quiet Outer—’ (F842):

Stanza 1

Patience—has a quiet Outer—
Patience—Look within—
Is an Insect’s futile forces
Infinites—between—

S1

My family sees my outward quiet appearance, but that is superficial. If they could look within, they would see a futile struggle between infinite forces.

‘Scaping one—against the other
Fruitlesser to fling—
Patience—is the Smile’s exertion
Through the quivering—

S2

If I escape the pain of living life, the pain of separation from Him descends, ripping open my healing wound. He told me we would meet and marry in Heaven, so I force a smile, though my lips are quivering.
……………………………………………………………………………..

ED suggested two alternate words in Line 7 and two alternate Lines 7-8 {in curly brackets}. I prefer her originals.

Stanza 2

‘Scaping one—against the other
Fruitlesser to fling—
Patience—is the Smile’s {Mouth’s; Love’s} exertion
Through the quivering—

Lines 7-8:

Patience — is the {Mean of forces —
Stand by Her Wing}

I prefer all her originals
.………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Background of F842, as if told by ED:”

“Now that I’ve been dead for 140 years {May 15, 1886}, I’d like to explain this poem for my 2026 readers {F842}:

“In my Master Letter 1 {JL187, draft, spring 1858}, I invited Reverend Wadsworth to visit me in Amherst:

“Listen again, Master. I did not tell you that today had been the Sabbath Day.

“Each Sabbath on the Sea, makes me count the Sabbaths, till we meet on shore ­­─ and {will the} whether the hills will look as blue as the sailors say. I cannot talk any more {stay any longer} tonight {now}, for this pain denies me.

“How strong when weak to recollect, and easy, quite, to love. Will you tell me, please to tell me, soon as you are well.”

“I knew that he was nationally known for his powerful, pew-filling sermons, and I did not expect him to come to Amherst. He knew from our previous letters that I had heard Him deliver a sermon in March 1855, and probably guessed correctly that His astonishing oratorical skills and deep bass voice had stolen my heart.

Wadsworth was the love of my life. I think He knew how I felt because my feelings were obvious in my letters. My poems honor Him by capitalizing all His pronouns, just as I do God’s. In fact, I thought of Wadsworth as God’s doppelgänger on Earth. Poem context separates Them.

“Fruitlesser” {Line 6} is my original word and I think it’s a humdinger comparative adjective, don’t you?