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© , (blvov_jo@yahoo.com)
© , ,1997
:
Emily Dickinson. The Complete Poems .
Edited by Th.H.Johnson, Faber and Faber, London, 1975.
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.
The Wind - tapped like a tired Man,
And like a Host - ` Come in`
I boldly answered - entered then
My residence within
A Rapid footless Guest -
To offer whom a Chair
Were as impossible as hand
A Sofa to the Air -
No Bone had He to bind Him -
His speech was like the Push
Of numerous humming Birds at once
From a superior Bush
His Countenance - a Billow,
His Fingers, as He passed
Let go music - as of tunes
Blow tremulous in Glass
He visited - still flitting -
Then like a timid Man
Again He tapped - `twas flurriedly-
And I became alone.
x x x
Heart! We will forget him!
You and I - tonight!
You may forget the Warmth he gave -
I will forget the Light!
When you have done, pray tell me
That I may straight begin!
Haste! lest while you're lagging
I may remember him!
x x x
I never lost as much but twice,
And that was in the sod.
Twice stood I beggar
Before the doors of God!
Angels - twice descending
Reimbursed my store -
Burglar! Banker - Father!
I am poor once more!
x x x
Within my reach!
I could have touched!
I might have chanced that way!
Soft sauntered thro'h the village -
Sauntered as soft away!
So unsuspected Violets
Within the meadows go -
Too late for striving fingers
That passed, an hour ago!
x x x
'T was such a little-little boat
That toddled down the bay!
'T was such a gallant- gallant sea
That beckoned it away!
'T was such a greedy, greedy wave
That licked it from the Coast;
Nor ever guessed the stately sails
My little craft was lost!
x x x
To fight aloud is very brave-
But gallanter, I know,
Who charge within the bosom,
The Cavalry of Woe-
Who win, and nations do not see-
Who fall- and none observe-
Whose dying eyes, no Country
Regards with patriot love-
We trust, in plumed procession
For such the Angels go-
Rank after Rank, with even feet-
And Uniforms of Snow.
x x x
Water, is taught by thirst;
Land - by the Oceans passed.
Transport - by throe -
Peace - by its battles told -
Love, by Memorial Mold -
Birds, by the Snow.
x x x
"Faith" is a fine invention
When Gentlemen can see -
But Microscopes are prudent
In an Emergency
x x x
I've nothing else - to bring, You know
So I keep bringing These-
Just as the Night keeps fetching Stars
To our familiar eyes-
Maybe, we shouldn't mind them-
Unless they didn't come-
Then - maybe, it would puzzle us
To find our way Home -
x x x
Wild Nights- Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile - the Winds -
To a Heart in port -
Done with the Compass -
Done with the Chart!
Rowing in Eden -
Ah, the Sea!
Might I but moor - Tonight!
In Thee!
x x x
`Hope` is a thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I've heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of Me.
x x x
The Soul selects her own Society -
Then - shut the Door -
To her divine Majority -
Present no more -
Unmoved-she notes the Chariots-pausing-
At her low Gate -
Unmoved - an Emperor is kneeling
Upon her Mat -
I've known her - from an ample nation
Choose One -
Then- close the Valves of her attention-
Like Stone -
x x x
I should have been too glad, I see -
Too lifted - for the scant degree
Of Life's penurious Round;
My little Circuit would have shamed
This new Circumference - have blamed
The homelier time behind.
I should have been too saved - I see -
Too rescued - Fear too dim to me
That I could spell the Prayer
I knew so perfect - yesterday --
That Scalding one - "Sabachthani"-
Recited fluent -- here -
Earth would have been too much - I see -
And Heaven- not enough for me -
I should have had the Joy
Without the Fear - to justify -
The Palm - without the Calvary;
So, Saviour, Crucify -
Defeat whets Victory - they say-
The Reefs - in old Gethsemane-
Endear the Coast beyond!
'T is Beggars - Banquets best define;
'T is parching - vitalizes Wine, -
"Faith" bleats - to understand!
x x x
A precious-mouldering pleasure-'t is-
To meet an Antique Book,
In just the Dress his Century wore -
A privilege - I think -
His venerable Hand to take -
And warming in our own -
A passage back- or two- to make
To Times when he- was young -
His quaint opinions - to inspect -
His thoughts to ascertain
On Themes concern our mutual mind-
The Literature of Man -
What interested Scholars- most-
What Competitions ran
When Plato - was a Certainty -
And Sophocles - a Man -
When Sappho - was a living Girl -
And Beatrice wore
The Gown that Dante- deified-
Facts Centuries before
He traverses - familiar -
As One should come to Town
And tell you all your Dreams-were true-
He lived - where Dreams were born-
His presence is Enchantment,
You beg him not to go -
Old Volumes shake their Vellum Heads
And tantalize - just so -
They dropped like Flakes -
Tthey dropped like Stars -
Like Petals from a Rose -
When suddenly across the June
A wind with fingers - goes -
They perished in the Seamless Grass, --
No eye could find the place -
But God can summon every face
On his Repealless - List
.
* * *
I am alive - I guess -
The Branches on my Hand
Are full of Morning Glory -
And at my finger's end -
The Carmine - tingles warm -
And if I hold a Glass
Across my Mouth - it blurs it -
Physician's - proof of Breath -
I am alive - because
I am not in a Room -
The Parlor - Commonly - it is -
So Visitors may come -
And lean - and view it sidewise -
And add " How cold - it grew" -
And " Was it conscious - when it stepped
In Immortality? "
I am alive - because
I do not own a House -
Entitled to myself - precise -
And fitting to no one else -
And marked my Girlhood's name -
So Visitors may know
Which Door is mine - and not mistake -
And try another Key-
How good-to be alive!
How infinite to be
Alive -- two-fold --
The Birth I had --
And this -- besides, in -- Thee!
x x x
It was not Death, for I stood up,
And all the Dead, lie down -
It was not Night, for all the Bells
Put out their Tongues, for Noon.
It was not Frost, for on my Flesh
I felt Siroccos - crawl -
Nor Fire - for just my Marble feet
Could keep a Chancel, cool -
And yet it tasted, like them all,
The Figures I have seen
Set orderly, for Burial,
Reminded me, of mine -
As if my life were shaven,
And fitted to a frame,
And could not breathe without a key,
And "t was like Midnight, some -
When everything that ticked-has stopped-
And Space stares all around -
Or Grisly frosts- first Autumn morns,
Repeal the Beating Ground -
But most, like Chaos -- Stopless - cool -
Without a Chance, or Spar -
Or even a Report of Land
To justify - Despair.
x x x
I Took my Power in my Hand-
And went against the World -
'T was not so much as David -- had-
But I was twice as bold -
I aimed my Pebble - but Myself
Was all the one that fell-
Was it Goliaf - was too large-
Or was myself - too small?
x x x
I fear a Man of frugal Speech-
I fear a Silent Man-
Haranguer - I can overtake -
Or Babbler - entertain-
But He who weigheth - While the Rest-
Expend their furthest pound-
Of this Man - I am wary-
I fear that He is Grand.
x x x
Glee - the great storm is over -
Four - have recovered the Land -
Forty - gone down together -
Into the boiling Sand -
Ring - for the Scant Salvation -
Toll - for the bonnie Souls -
Neighbor - and friend - and Bridegroom,
Spinning upon the Shoals -
How they will tell the Story-
When Winter shake the Door -
Till the Children urge - But the Forty -
Did they - come back no more?
Then a softness - suffuses the Story -
And a silence - the Teller's eye -
And the Children - no further question -
And only the Sea - reply -
x x x
I asked no other thing -
No other - was denied -
I offered Being - for it -
The Mighty Merchant sneered -
Brazil? He twirled a Button -
Without a glance my way -
" But - Madam - is there nothing else -
That We can show - Today? "
x x x
I dwell in Possibility -
A fairer House than Prose -
More numerous of Windows -
Superior - for Doors -
Of Chambers as the Cedars -
Impregnable of Eye -
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky -
Of Visitors - the fairest -
For Occupation - This -
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise -
x x x
Each Life Converges to some Centre -
Expressed - or still -
Exists in every Human Nature
A Goal -
Embodied scarcely to itself- it may be-
Too fair
For Credibility's presumption
To mar-
Adored with caution- as a Brittle Heaven-
To reach
Were hopeless Rainbow's Raiment
To touch-
Yet persevered toward-
sure- for the distance;
How high-
Unto the Saints" slow diligence-
The Sky-
Ungained- it may be-
by a Life's low Venture-
But then -
Eternity enables the endeavoring
Again.
x x x
They say that "Time assuages" -
Time never did assuage-
An actual suffering strengthens
As Sinews do, with age-
Time is a Test of Trouble,
But not a Remedy-
If such it prove, it prove too
There was no Malady-
x x x
Because I could not stop for Death-
He kindly stopped for me-
The Carriage held but just Ourselves-
And Immortality.
We slowly drove - He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For His Civility -
We passed the School where Children strove
At Recess - in the Ring-
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain -
We passed the Setting Sun -
Or rather -- He passed Us-
The Dews drew quivering and chill-
For only Gossamer, my Gown-
My Tippet -- only Tulle-
We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground-
The Roof was scarcely visible-
The Cornice -- in the Ground-
Since then - "t is Centuries-and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses" Heads
Were toward Eternity -
x x x
I stepped from Plank to Plank
A slow and cautious way
The Stars about my Head I felt
About my Feet the Sea.
I knew not but the next
Would be my final inch -
This gave me that precarious Gait
Some call Experience.
x x x
We outgrow love like other things
And put it in the Drawer -
Till it an Antique fashion shows -
Like Costumes Grandsires wore.
x x x
If I can stop one Heart from breaking
I shall not live in vain
If I can ease one Life the Aching,
Or cool one Pain,
Or help one fainting Robin
Unto his Nest again,
I shall not live in Vain.
x x x
Title divine - is mine!
The Wife - without the Sign!
Acute Degree - conferred on me -
Empress of Calvary!
Royal - all but the Crown!
Betrothed - without the swoon
God sends us Women -
When you - hold - Garnet to Garnet -
Gold - to Gold -
Born - Bridalled - Shrouded -
In a Day -
Tri Victory
" My Husband" - women say -
Stroking the Melody -
Is this - the way?
x x x
We never know how high we are
Till we are called to rise
And then if we are true to plan
Our statures touch the skies -
The Heroism we recite
Would be a daily thing
Did not ourselves the Cubits warp
For fear to be a King -
x x x
Rememberance has a Rear and Front -
'T is something like a House -
It has a Garret also
For Refuse and the Mouse,
Besides the deepest Cellar
That ever Mason laid -
Look to it by its Fathoms
Ourselves be not pursued -
x x x
A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.
I say it just
Begins to live
That day.
x x x
There is no Frigate like a Book
To take us Lands away
Nor any Coursers like a Page
Of prancing Poetry -
This Traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of Toll -
How frugal is the Chariot
That bears the Human soul.
x x x
Not with a Club, the Heart is broken
Nor with a Stone -
A Whip so small you could not see it
I've known
To lash the Magic Creature
Till it fell,
Yet that Whip's name
Too noble then to tell.
Magnanimous as Bird
By Boy descried -
Singing unto the Stone
Of which it died -
Shame need not crouch
In such an Earth as Ours -
Shame - stand erect -
The Universe is yours
x x x
Let me not mar that perfect Dream
By an Auroral stain
But so adjust my daily Night
That it will come again...
x x x
Belshazzar had a Letter --
He never had but one -
Belshazzar's Correspondent
Concluded and begun
In that immortal Copy
The Conscience of us all
Can read without its Glasses
On Revelation's Wall -
Last-modified: Wed, 24 Jan 2001 12:20:06 GMT