609.1863.A Night — there lay the Days between —

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 —

How could anyone torture line structure into such powerful words of love? A comma clarifies Line 1, but I’m glad ED left it out: “A Night — there lay, the Days between —”

Shakespeare would be proud had a sleepily anxious Juliet said Lines 5-8, especially that last one: “Till it be night — no more —”. To paraphrase Anonymous (F605, 6/16/2015), “The poem ends with exact rhymes (“Before”, “shore”, “more”) — almost like the end of a scene from Shakespeare where exact rhymes signal the transition to a new scene.”

Reading Stanza 2, we want to hear “Washed away” as grains of sand slowly vanish, one-by-one, night-by-night, out to sea. Instead, we get “Watched away”, an active/passive verb that reassures the poet; when the last grain is gone, Heaven’s light will flood Earth’s night, and she will meet and marry the man she loves, Charles Wadsworth. Until then, time slowly passes,

“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).

608.1863.So glad we are — a stranger’d deem

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.

606.163.Except the smaller size

606.1863.Except the smaller size

Except the smaller size
No lives are round —
These — hurry to a sphere
And show and end —
The larger — slower grow
And later hang —
The Summers of Hesperides
Are long.

Our neighbor has an incredibly productive yellow-apple tree that holds its apples until first frost. She lets us pick and we’ve noticed that apples on inner branches are smaller than those farther out. These small apples stay roundish and lack rich sweetness of larger, outer-hanging, late-season apples. ED would probably know this from her family’s orchard.

Perhaps Lines 7-8, “The Summers of Hesperides / are long”, acknowledge that exceptional poems bake longer in ED’s white-hot subconscious.

 

There are three variants of F606, dating from about 1863 and 1866.

Variant A (summer 1863, Fascicle 26, Alternate words in parentheses):

Except the smaller size –
No Lives – are Round –
These hurry to a Sphere –
And show and end –

The Larger – slower grow –
And later – hang –
The Summers of (in) Hesperides
Are long-

Hugest (The Huge) of Core
Present the awkward Rind –
Yield Groups of Ones –
No Cluster – ye (you) shall find –

But far after Frost –
And Indian Summer Noon – (Sun –)
Ships – offer These –
As West – Indian –

Variant B (The first two stanzas of Variant A, signed “Emily,” were sent to Susan Dickinson about the second half of 1863.

Variant C (A later fair copy, substantively identical to Variant B, though without stanza division, was incorporated in 1866 into a letter to T. W. Higginson postmarked 17 March 1886 (L484):

“If I still entreat you to teach me, Are you much displeased? I will be patient – constant, never reject your knife and should my slowness goad you, you knew before myself that”:

Except the smaller size
No lives are round –
These – hurry to a sphere
And show and end –
The larger – slower grow
And later hang –
The Summers of Hesperides
Are long.

ED incorporated this one-stanza octave, Variant C, into Letter 484 to T. W. Higginson, postmarked 17 March 1886.

 

An interpretation of F606:

Except for ordinary poets, no poets’ lives are smooth (L1-2).
Ordinary poets quickly become predictable and showy and temporary (L3-4).
Great poets grow slower and deeper, and their poems become immortal (L5-6).
Their fame is eternal (L7-8).

772.1863.Essential Oils – are wrung –

772.1863.Essential Oils – are wrung –

Essential Oils – are wrung –
The Attar from the Rose
Be not expressed by Suns – alone –
It is the gift of Screws –

The General Rose – decay –
But this – in Lady’s Drawer Make Summer –
When the Lady lie
In Ceaseless Rosemary –

 

An interpretation of ‘Essential Oils – are wrung –’, Fr772:

 

Great poems, like attar from the rose, are not composed by inspiration alone, they are the gift of pain and toil.

Ordinary poems die young, but great poems shed warm light after their poet dies.

 

ED probably composed ‘Essential Oils – are wrung –’ to honor her favorite poet, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, who died in 1861.

771.1863.We miss her not because we see

771.1863.We miss her not because we see
(Possessive pronoun, it’s, corrected in Line 3. ED’s alternative words used in Lines 4, 5, 8.)

We miss Her, not because We see –
The Absence of an Eye –
Except (its) Mind accompany
(Deprive) Society

As slightly as the (Flights) of Stars –
Ourselves – asleep below –
We know that their superior Eyes
(Convey Us -) – as they go –

An interpretation:

We miss Her not because we notice the absence of her Eye (Body), but because her death has deprived Society of her Mind (Soul).

We miss her Eye (body) as slightly as the Flights of Stars passing overhead while we sleep. We know that their superior Eyes convey our souls (Minds) as they go.

This poem (F771) is probably about Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861), ED’s favorite poet.

770 1863.Strong draughts of their refreshing minds

Strong Draughts of Their Refreshing Minds
To drink – enables Mine
Through Desert or the Wilderness
As bore it sealed Wine

To go elastic – Or as One
The Camel’s trait – attained –
How powerful the stimulus
Of an Hermetic Mind –

The “it” in Line 4 refers to “Mine” (my mind) in Line2. Line 4 translates as “As if my mind bore sealed Wine”. The “Hermetic Mind” in Line 8 refers to and slant rhymes with “sealed Wine” in Line 4.

“Hermetic” in Line 4 implies a mind sealed in both directions, in and out. ED probably did not mean a closed mind, but that’s what her words imply. Possibly she meant a mind resistant to the latest fashions in public discourse, poetic styles, or religious dogma. David Preest lists Elizabeth Barrett Browning and George Eliot as likely leaders on Emily’s List of “Hermetic Minds”.

 ED has convinced me that virtually all of her poems have two or more levels of meaning: poetic and historical. These levels cannot be separated into two ivory towers, as most academics do.

The reason for her instant and continuing public adulation (1890-present) was and is, by far, poetic. She is one of the “Greats” that she always dreamed to be, despite her lifelong refusal to publish. That refusal freed her from criticism and allowed her to explore the outer boundaries of poetic power.

Her refusal to publish was only possible because of the lifelong financial and daily social/housekeeping support of her family, especially her father and sister, respectively. Throughout her life, the Dickinsons hired servants, first Negro and later Irish, some of whom became much more than housekeepers for ED.

My point is that our appreciation and love of ED’s poems can be enriched by understanding both poetic and historical levels of her sound and sense. We impoverish ourselves if we ignore their historical base.

769.1863.These saw visions

769.1863.These saw visions
(ED’s alternative words accepted)

These – saw Visions –
(Bind) them softly –
These – held Dimples –
Smooth them slow –
This – addressed departing accents –
(Soon) – Sweet Mouth – to miss thee so –

This – we stroked –
Unnumbered – Satin –
These – we (fondled in) our own –
Fingers of the Slim Aurora –
Not so arrogant – this Noon –

These – adjust – that ran to meet Us –
Pearl – (the) stocking – Pearl (the) Shoe –
Paradise – the only Palace
Fit for Her reception – now –

Amazing prescience. In 1886 Sue prepared ED’s body for funeral and burial. ED described her body as she would like Sue to see it.

Her eyes had seen visions, her cheeks shown dimples, her lips had said goodbye. “Sweet Mouth”, I’ll miss thee so.

This hair I stroked like satin, these fingers I fondled in my own. They aren’t arrogant this noon.

These feet that ran to meet me wear pearl stockings and pearl shoes, fit only for heaven now.