All Poems

001.1850.Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine

Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,
Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine!

Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain,
For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain.
All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air,
God hath made nothing single but thee in His world so fair!
The bride, and then the bridegroom, the two, and then the one,
Adam, and Eve, his consort, the moon, and then the sun;
The life doth prove the precept, who obey shall happy be,
Who will not serve the sovereign, be hanged on fatal tree.
The high do seek the lowly, the great do seek the small,
None cannot find who seeketh, on this terrestrial ball;
The bee doth court the flower, the flower his suit receives,
And they make merry wedding, whose guests are hundred leaves;
The wind doth woo the branches, the branches they are won,
And the father fond demandeth the maiden for his son.
The storm doth walk the seashore humming a mournful tune,
The wave with eye so pensive, looketh to see the moon,
Their spirits meet together, they make their solemn vows,
No more he singeth mournful, her sadness she doth lose.
The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride,
Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide;
Earth is a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so true,
And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth in vain to sue.
Now to the application, to the reading of the roll,
To bringing thee to justice, and marshalling thy soul:
Thou art a human solo, a being cold, and lone,
Wilt have no kind companion, thou reap’st what thou hast sown.
Hast never silent hours, and minutes all too long,
And a deal of sad reflection, and wailing instead of song?
There’s Sarah, and Eliza, and Emeline so fair,
And Harriet, and Susan, and she with curling hair!
Thine eyes are sadly blinded, but yet thou mayest see
Six true, and comely maidens sitting upon the tree;
Approach that tree with caution, then up it boldly climb,
And seize the one thou lovest, nor care for space, or time!
Then bear her to the greenwood, and build for her a bower,
And give her what she asketh, jewel, or bird, or flower—
And bring the fife, and trumpet, and beat upon the drum—
And bid the world Goodmorrow, and go to glory home!

………………………………………………………………………………….

Larry BJuly 24, 2022

Elbridge Bowdoin, Edward Dickinson’s junior law partner (1847-1855), was about the same age (mid-20s) as Benjamin Newton, Edward’s intern and ED’s mentor, but Newton was married and Bowdoin was not. Bowdoin, a lifelong bachelor, kept this Valentine poem for 40 years. Given its boldly sensual nature, we know where Emily’s mind was at age 19. However, how many Hallmark Valentine cards have you ever seen with a line like this: “The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride”? ED had more than romantic love on her mind.

Larry B January 3, 2025

This early Valentine poem tells us that Susan Gilbert, an orphaned newcomer to Amherst, had joined ED’s inner clique of friends by 4 March 1850. Their acquaintance began fall 1847 when Susan enrolled for a semester at Amherst Academy. Their romantic love probably began summer 1850 (L181, January 1855: “I love you as dearly, Susie, as when love first began, on the step at the front door, and under the Evergreens, and it breaks my heart sometimes, because I do not hear from you.”)

 

836.1864.Color — Caste — Denomination —

Color — Caste — Denomination —
These — are Time’s Affair —
Death’s diviner Classifying
Does not know they are —

As in sleep — All Hue forgotten —
Tenets — put behind —
Death’s large—Democratic fingers
Rub away the Brand —
.
If Circassian — He is careless —
If He put away
Chrysalis of Blonde—or Umber —
Equal Butterfly —
.
They emerge from His Obscuring —
What Death — knows so well —
Our minuter intuitions —
Deem unplausible —
.
.
.
In a genetic sense that ED could not know, not just humans share death, but every individual organism: plant, animal, bacterium, fungus, and even, in a sense, virus, with their single-stranded genetic code of RNA. Death’s “Democratic Fingers” end existence for every “individual” of every “species”.
.
What we know now is that ED’s obsession with individual human “Death” was completely anthropocentric. What really matters is transmission of genetic code from each parent generation to its descendants. Genetic codes are “immortal” in a sense, but their “immortality” does not mean they stay the same; they change continually by natural selection and its consequence, evolution.

We organisms pass from existence to non-existence. Death of an individual organism doesn’t matter, so long as it leaves at least one copy of its DNA in the next generation. The only complete failure of a DNA or RNA molecule is extinction of its “species”. If we humans cause that extinction, we have committed a biocentric sin. Of course, we humans may intentionally cause extinction of a pathogen “species” like smallpox for our own anthropocentric benefit, but if we do we have intentionally committed a biocentric sin for a good reason.
.
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All of this is not to say that ED’s poems don’t matter. We love their rhythm and rhyme, their sound and sense. When we enjoy a poem, biology doesn’t matter. We can always learn biology later, when we aren’t reading ED’s poems.

 

834.1864.Fitter to see Him, I may be

ED included ten (10) alternate words (Lines 4, 8, 9, 10, 16, 20, 21, 26, 27, and 28). I prefer her alternates in Lines 4, 8, 16, and 28 and her original words in Lines 9, 10 (spelling corrected), 20, 21, 26, and 27. Here is F834, with my preferred alternate words in parentheses:

1. Fitter to see Him, I may be
   For the long Hindrance — Grace — to Me —
   With Summers, and with Winters, grow,
   Some passing Year — A (charm) bestow
   .
2. To make Me fairest of the Earth —
   The Waiting — then — will seem so worth
   I shall impute with half a pain
   The blame that I was (common) — then —
   .
3. Time to anticipate His Gaze —
   Its first — Delight — and then — Surprise —
   The turning o’er and o’er my face
   For Evidence it be the Grace —
   .
4. He left behind One Day — So less
   He seek Conviction, That — be This —
   .
5. I only must not grow so new
   He’ll mistake — and ask for me
   Of me — when first unto the Door
   I go — to Elsewhere go no more —
   .
6. I only must not change so fair
   He’ll sigh — “The Other — She — is Where?”
   The Love, tho’, will array me right
   I shall be perfect — in His sight —
   .
7. If He perceive the other Truth —
   Upon an Excellenter Youth —
   .
8. How sweet I shall not lack in Vain —
   But gain — thro’ loss — Through Grief— obtain —
   The Beauty that reward Him best —
   The Beauty of (Belief) — at Rest —

 

My interpretation of F834, stanza by stanza:

1.  If Wadsworth ever returns to Amherst, I’ll be fitter to meet Him because of my long wait for Him to return. Waiting may feel like a hindrance, but during that time, God will give me grace. Passing seasons and passing years will bestow on me a new trait; (enjambed)
   .
2. they will make me fairest of the Earth. The waiting, then, will seem so worthwhile. I half attribute my emotional pain to Wadsworth for choosing to visit me in 1860. Nevertheless, I hope He returns.
   .
3. The wait has given me time to anticipate His gaze, its first delight and then his surprise as he turns over and over in his mind my face as he remembers it. He’ll wonder if my transformation has been by the grace of God and search for evidence that I’m the same person he (enjambed)
   .
4. left behind that summer day in 1860. My face will be so different that he’ll search it for evidence that that face is this face.
   .
5. I only must not grow so fair that He’ll think he’s talking to a different person and ask for me of me when first I go to the door. No, I’ll welcome Him and never afterward leave His side.
   .
6. I only must not change so fair that He’ll sigh, “The other ED, where is she, where?” Our love, though, will array me right; I shall be perfect in His sight.
   .
7. If He decides that I am not ED, but rather a younger, prettier woman than he remembers, that’s okay with me because He will bestow his love on me but think he’s loving a prettier youth.
   .
8. And even if that happens, how sweet that I shall not lack his love but gain, through loss, through grief, the beauty that he likes best, the beauty of belief, at rest.
   .
   .

This poem is ED’s wishful imagination.

833.1864.Pain — expands the Time —

Alternate words in Lines 2, 7, 8 – I prefer ED’s original word, “coil”, in Line 2 and her alternate words, “Triplets” and “Flit” in Lines 7 & 8 (emended).

Pain — expands the Time —
Ages (coil) within
The minute Circumference
Of a single Brain —

Pain contracts — the Time —
Occupied with Shot
(Triplets) of Eternities
(Flit) [by] as [if] they were not [eternities].—

 

EDLex, Definitions 4 & 6 of “Shot”: “gunshot flak” [incoming miniballs].
EDLex Definition 1 of “Pain”: “Emotional agony”.

 

My literal interpretation of Fr833, 1864, ‘Pain — expands the Time’:

Pain expands time: while you’re waiting in your trench for a rebel attack, hours drag by.

Pain contracts time: when rebels scream their rebel yell and charge your trench, and miniballs whiz by your head, hours pass like seconds.

 

My metaphorical interpretation of Fr833, 1864, ‘Pain — expands the Time’:

1. Emotional agony makes one minute feel like hours. In that one minute, entire ages coil in my tortured brain.
2. In “late 1861” when I composed ‘There came a Day at Summer’s full’ (Fr325), I was remembering that “summer day” in 1860 when Wadsworth came to visit me in Amherst. My emotional agony contracted the hours I spent with him to minutes. As I said in ‘There came a Day’ (Stanza 5):

“The Hours [of that summer day in 1860] slid fast—as Hours will—
Clutched tight—by [our] greedy hands—
So—faces [Wadsworth’s and mine] on two Decks—look back—
Bound to opposing Lands [Amherst, MA, and San Francisco, CA] —”

832.1864.’Tis Sunrise — Little Maid — Hast Thou

10 April 2026
No alternate words

‘Tis Sunrise — Little Maid — Hast Thou
No Station in the Day?
‘Twas not thy wont, to hinder so —
Retrieve thine industry —

‘Tis Noon — My little Maid —
Alas — and art thou sleeping yet?
The Lily — waiting to be Wed —
The Bee — Hast thou forgot?

My little Maid — ‘Tis Night — Alas
That Night should be to thee
Instead of Morning — Had’st thou broached
Thy little Plan to Die —
Dissuade thee, if I could not, Sweet,
I might have aided — thee —

My interpretation of ‘’Tis Sunrise — Little Maid — (Fr832)

1. ‘Tis Sunrise — Little Maid — Hast Thou
   No Station in the Day?
   ‘Twas not thy wont, to hinder so —
   Retrieve thine industry —
   .
   I’m your father, Emily. It’s sunrise and you have bread to make and poems to write! It’s not like you to sleep so late. It’s time to rise and shine!

 

2. It’s Noon — My little Maid —
   Alas — and art thou sleeping yet?
   The Lily — waiting to be Wed —
   The Bee — Hast thou forgot?
   .
   It’s noon, Emily! It’s me, your father, again, and you’ve slept all morning!! What’s wrong? Why are you still in bed? The lilies in your garden are waiting to be fertilized by the bees. Why have you forgotten your garden and your poems?

 

3. My little Maid — ‘Tis Night — Alas
   That Night should be to thee
   Instead of Morning — Had’st thou broached
   Thy little Plan to Die —
   Dissuade thee, if I could not, Sweet,
   I might have aided — thee —
   .

Emily, I’m your soul. You’re dead and I’m really sad. If only you had talked to me about your suicide plans, I might have dissuaded you. If I could not dissuade you, Emily, I might have helped you to do it.

”””””””””””’

As background for my interpretation, here is an early poem about ED’s father waking her at 3:00 AM each morning by knocking on her bedroom door. Apparently, in 1858, ED and her sister, Vinnie, were expected to start morning chores and cook breakfast. The poem below (Fr35, 1858) is about a deal ED brokered with her father to hire a maid so that she could have more time to write poetry:

35.1858.Sleep is supposed to be

Sleep is supposed to be
By souls of sanity
The shutting of the eye.

Sleep is the station grand
Down wh’, on either hand
The hosts of witness stand!

Morn is supposed to be
By people of degree
The breaking of the Day.

Morning has not occurred!

That shall Aurora be—
East of Eternity—
One with the banner gay—
One in the red array—
That is the break of Day!

Here is an excerpt about Fr35 (1958) from Susan Kornfeld’s 2011 explication of ‘Sleep is supposed to be’ on the ‘The Prowling Bee’ blog

https://bloggingdickinson.blogspot.com/2011/07/f-35-1848.html

“[T]his poem was described by Dickinson in a letter (JL198) to her friends the Hollands as a note to her father who apparently used to knock on her door before daylight to wake her up. [ED] prefaced the poem by writing:

To my Father –
 to whose untiring efforts in my behalf, I am indebted for my morning hours
       – viz – 3.AM to 12. PM. These grateful lines are inscribed by his aff. Daughter.’ (L198)”

In 1854, in a letter to the same “Hollands”, she mentions her father “rapping” on her door to wake her :

To Dr. and Mrs. J. G. Holland, 26 November 1854 (JL175)

“Dear Friends,

. . . When father rapped on my door to wake me this morning, I [dreamed I] was walking with you in the most wonderful garden, and helping you pick- roses, and though we gathered with all our might, the basket was never full.

Affectionately, Emily

……………………………………………

831.1864.Till Death—is narrow Loving—

Till Death—is narrow Loving—
The scantest Heart extant
Will hold you till your privilege
Of Finiteness—be spent—

But He whose loss procures you
Such Destitution that
Your Life too abject for itself
Thenceforward imitate—

Until—Resemblance perfect—
Yourself, for His pursuit
Delight of Nature—abdicate—
Exhibit Love—somewhat—

My interpretation of ‘Till Death—is narrow Loving—’, Fr831:

Stanza 1

Till Death—is narrow Loving—
The scantest Heart extant
Will hold you till your privilege
Of Finiteness—be spent—

 

To love someone “till death” is “narrow loving”. Even the “scantiest heart”, the heart least capable of love, can keep a you in a relationship “Till Death”. All you have to do is stay together. If married, don’t divorce even if time proves you and your partner incompatible. But prolonging unresolved incompatibility often results in unhappy or even bitter final years “till your privilege / Of Finiteness—be spent—”. If married, the older you get, the more difficult it is to separate because of children, grandchildren, and finances.

 

Stanza 2

But He whose loss procures you
Such Destitution that
Your Life too abject for itself
Thenceforward imitate— (enjambed with Stanza 3)

ED hopelessly loved Wadsworth, and he moved to San Francisco in May 1862. Her life felt “Destitute”. ED believed when Wadsworth visited her in 1860, he had promised they could meet and marry in Heaven, but she didn’t want to wait that long to see him. Her life felt “too abject for itself”. “Thenceforward” she would “imitate” (enjambed with Stanza 3) Wadsworth by following his exhortations in his sermons.

It’s significant that after Wadsworth left the east coast, ED felt horrible terror, as she told Higginson in JL261, dated April 25, 1862:

“I had a terror – since September – I could tell to none – and so I sing, as the Boy does by the Burying Ground – because I am afraid. “

She could either commit suicide (see Fr305 below) or sing poems like this one, ‘Till Death—is narrow Loving’. ED chose to sing poems, but she still worshiped Wadsworth. .  and tried to emulate the exhortations

It’s also significant that Eliza Coleman, ED’s second cousin and close friend, lived in Philadelphia, attended Wadsworth’s  Arch Street Presbyterian Church, and took ED to hear his sermon in late March of 1855. Eliza knew ED had strong feelings for Wadsworth and mailed her copies of his sermons until 1862. Presumably, ED tried to imitate his admonishings (enjambed) . . . .

 

Stanza 3

Until—Resemblance perfect—
Yourself, for His pursuit
Delight of Nature—abdicate—
Exhibit Love—somewhat—

. . . . Until she perfected a “Resemblance” to him in her life. Sadly, in her obsessive attempt to live his sermons’ exhortations, ED “abdicate[d]” her former “Delight of Nature”. She had hoped her imitation, her sacrifices for her imagined marriage to Wadsworth, “Exhibited Love” for him. Sadly, she knew she was only fooling herself, hence the final “somewhat”.

 305.1862.What if I say I shall not wait!

 What if I say I shall not wait!
What if I burst the fleshly Gate—
And pass Escaped—to thee!

What if I file this Mortal—off—
See where it hurt me—That’s enough—
And wade in Liberty!

They cannot take me—any more!
Dungeons can call—and Guns implore
Unmeaning—now—to me—

As laughter—was—an hour ago—
Or Laces—or a Travelling Show—
Or who died—yesterday!

. . . . . . . . . .

Billy Collins had this to say about poetry fans like me who want to know the historical seed that gestated into a poem, in this case Emily Dickinson’ poems:

 

“INTRODUCTION TO POETRY

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,
or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author’s name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.”

 

I think Collins (1988) overstates his case, but his poem is delightful.

William James Collins (1941- ) is an American poet who served as the Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001 to 2003.^[1] He was a Distinguished Professor at Lehman College of the City University of New York for 30 years, retiring in 2016.

Billy Collins, 1988, The Apple that Astonished Paris, University of Arkansas Press.