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Complete Poems by Emily Dickinson

Page 11

by Emily Dickinson


  For entertaining plated wares

  Upon my silver shelf.

  XXXVI.

  LOST FAITH.

  To lose one's faith surpasses

  The loss of an estate,

  Because estates can be

  Replenished, — faith cannot.

  Inherited with life,

  Belief but once can be;

  Annihilate a single clause,

  And Being's beggary.

  XXXVII.

  LOST JOY.

  I had a daily bliss

  I half indifferent viewed,

  Till sudden I perceived it stir, —

  It grew as I pursued,

  Till when, around a crag,

  It wasted from my sight,

  Enlarged beyond my utmost scope,

  I learned its sweetness right.

  XXXVIII.

  I worked for chaff, and earning wheat

  Was haughty and betrayed.

  What right had fields to arbitrate

  In matters ratified?

  I tasted wheat, — and hated chaff,

  And thanked the ample friend;

  Wisdom is more becoming viewed

  At distance than at hand.

  XXXIX.

  Life, and Death, and Giants

  Such as these, are still.

  Minor apparatus, hopper of the mill,

  Beetle at the candle,

  Or a fife's small fame,

  Maintain by accident

  That they proclaim.

  XL.

  ALPINE GLOW.

  Our lives are Swiss, —

  So still, so cool,

  Till, some odd afternoon,

  The Alps neglect their curtains,

  And we look farther on.

  Italy stands the other side,

  While, like a guard between,

  The solemn Alps,

  The siren Alps,

  Forever intervene!

  XLI.

  REMEMBRANCE.

  Remembrance 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 hewed;

  Look to it, by its fathoms

  Ourselves be not pursued.

  XLII.

  To hang our head ostensibly,

  And subsequent to find

  That such was not the posture

  Of our immortal mind,

  Affords the sly presumption

  That, in so dense a fuzz,

  You, too, take cobweb attitudes

  Upon a plane of gauze!

  XLIII.

  THE BRAIN.

  The brain is wider than the sky,

  For, put them side by side,

  The one the other will include

  With ease, and you beside.

  The brain is deeper than the sea,

  For, hold them, blue to blue,

  The one the other will absorb,

  As sponges, buckets do.

  The brain is just the weight of God,

  For, lift them, pound for pound,

  And they will differ, if they do,

  As syllable from sound.

  XLIV.

  The bone that has no marrow;

  What ultimate for that?

  It is not fit for table,

  For beggar, or for cat.

  A bone has obligations,

  A being has the same;

  A marrowless assembly

  Is culpabler than shame.

  But how shall finished creatures

  A function fresh obtain? —

  Old Nicodemus' phantom

  Confronting us again!

  XLV.

  THE PAST.

  The past is such a curious creature,

  To look her in the face

  A transport may reward us,

  Or a disgrace.

  Unarmed if any meet her,

  I charge him, fly!

  Her rusty ammunition

  Might yet reply!

  XLVI.

  To help our bleaker parts

  Salubrious hours are given,

  Which if they do not fit for earth

  Drill silently for heaven.

  XLVII.

  What soft, cherubic creatures

  These gentlewomen are!

  One would as soon assault a plush

  Or violate a star.

  Such dimity convictions,

  A horror so refined

  Of freckled human nature,

  Of Deity ashamed, —

  It's such a common glory,

  A fisherman's degree!

  Redemption, brittle lady,

  Be so, ashamed of thee.

  XLVIII.

  DESIRE.

  Who never wanted, — maddest joy

  Remains to him unknown:

  The banquet of abstemiousness

  Surpasses that of wine.

  Within its hope, though yet ungrasped

  Desire's perfect goal,

  No nearer, lest reality

  Should disenthrall thy soul.

  XLIX.

  PHILOSOPHY.

  It might be easier

  To fail with land in sight,

  Than gain my blue peninsula

  To perish of delight.

  L.

  POWER.

  You cannot put a fire out;

  A thing that can ignite

  Can go, itself, without a fan

  Upon the slowest night.

  You cannot fold a flood

  And put it in a drawer, —

  Because the winds would find it out,

  And tell your cedar floor.

  LI.

  A modest lot, a fame petite,

  A brief campaign of sting and sweet

  Is plenty! Is enough!

  A sailor's business is the shore,

  A soldier's — balls. Who asketh more

  Must seek the neighboring life!

  LII.

  Is bliss, then, such abyss

  I must not put my foot amiss

  For fear I spoil my shoe?

  I'd rather suit my foot

  Than save my boot,

  For yet to buy another pair

  Is possible

  At any fair.

  But bliss is sold just once;

  The patent lost

  None buy it any more.

  LIII.

  EXPERIENCE.

  I stepped from plank to plank

  So slow and cautiously;

  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.

  LIV.

  THANKSGIVING DAY.

  One day is there of the series

  Termed Thanksgiving day,

  Celebrated part at table,

  Part in memory.

  Neither patriarch nor pussy,

  I dissect the play;

  Seems it, to my hooded thinking,

  Reflex holiday.

  Had there been no sharp subtraction

  From the early sum,

  Not an acre or a caption

  Where was once a room,

  Not a mention, whose small pebble

  Wrinkled any bay, —

  Unto such, were such assembly,

  'T were Thanksgiving day.

  LV.

  CHILDISH GRIEFS.

  Softened by Time's consummate plush,

  How sleek the woe appears

  That threatened childhood's citadel

  And undermined the years!

  Bisected now by bleaker griefs,

  We envy the despair

  That devastated childhood's realm,

  So easy to repair.

  II. LOVE.

  I.

  CONSECRATION.

  Proud of m
y broken heart since thou didst break it,

  Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,

  Proud of my night since thou with moons dost slake it,

  Not to partake thy passion, my humility.

  II.

  LOVE'S HUMILITY.

  My worthiness is all my doubt,

  His merit all my fear,

  Contrasting which, my qualities

  Do lowlier appear;

  Lest I should insufficient prove

  For his beloved need,

  The chiefest apprehension

  Within my loving creed.

  So I, the undivine abode

  Of his elect content,

  Conform my soul as 't were a church

  Unto her sacrament.

  III.

  LOVE.

  Love is anterior to life,

  Posterior to death,

  Initial of creation, and

  The exponent of breath.

  IV.

  SATISFIED.

  One blessing had I, than the rest

  So larger to my eyes

  That I stopped gauging, satisfied,

  For this enchanted size.

  It was the limit of my dream,

  The focus of my prayer, —

  A perfect, paralyzing bliss

  Contented as despair.

  I knew no more of want or cold,

  Phantasms both become,

  For this new value in the soul,

  Supremest earthly sum.

  The heaven below the heaven above

  Obscured with ruddier hue.

  Life's latitude leant over-full;

  The judgment perished, too.

  Why joys so scantily disburse,

  Why Paradise defer,

  Why floods are served to us in bowls, —

  I speculate no more.

  V.

  WITH A FLOWER.

  When roses cease to bloom, dear,

  And violets are done,

  When bumble-bees in solemn flight

  Have passed beyond the sun,

  The hand that paused to gather

  Upon this summer's day

  Will idle lie, in Auburn, —

  Then take my flower, pray!

  VI.

  SONG.

  Summer for thee grant I may be

  When summer days are flown!

  Thy music still when whippoorwill

  And oriole are done!

  For thee to bloom, I'll skip the tomb

  And sow my blossoms o'er!

  Pray gather me, Anemone,

  Thy flower forevermore!

  VII.

  LOYALTY.

  Split the lark and you'll find the music,

  Bulb after bulb, in silver rolled,

  Scantily dealt to the summer morning,

  Saved for your ear when lutes be old.

  Loose the flood, you shall find it patent,

  Gush after gush, reserved for you;

  Scarlet experiment! sceptic Thomas,

  Now, do you doubt that your bird was true?

  VIII.

  To lose thee, sweeter than to gain

  All other hearts I knew.

  'T is true the drought is destitute,

  But then I had the dew!

  The Caspian has its realms of sand,

  Its other realm of sea;

  Without the sterile perquisite

  No Caspian could be.

  IX.

  Poor little heart!

  Did they forget thee?

  Then dinna care! Then dinna care!

  Proud little heart!

  Did they forsake thee?

  Be debonair! Be debonair!

  Frail little heart!

  I would not break thee:

  Could'st credit me? Could'st credit me?

  Gay little heart!

  Like morning glory

  Thou'll wilted be; thou'll wilted be!

  X.

  FORGOTTEN.

  There is a word

  Which bears a sword

  Can pierce an armed man.

  It hurls its barbed syllables,—

  At once is mute again.

  But where it fell

  The saved will tell

  On patriotic day,

  Some epauletted brother

  Gave his breath away.

  Wherever runs the breathless sun,

  Wherever roams the day,

  There is its noiseless onset,

  There is its victory!

  Behold the keenest marksman!

  The most accomplished shot!

  Time's sublimest target

  Is a soul 'forgot'!

  XI.

  I've got an arrow here;

  Loving the hand that sent it,

  I the dart revere.

  Fell, they will say, in 'skirmish'!

  Vanquished, my soul will know,

  By but a simple arrow

  Sped by an archer's bow.

  XII.

  THE MASTER.

  He fumbles at your spirit

  As players at the keys

  Before they drop full music on;

  He stuns you by degrees,

  Prepares your brittle substance

  For the ethereal blow,

  By fainter hammers, further heard,

  Then nearer, then so slow

  Your breath has time to straighten,

  Your brain to bubble cool, —

  Deals one imperial thunderbolt

  That scalps your naked soul.

  XIII.

  Heart, we will forget him!

  You and I, to-night!

  You may forget the warmth he gave,

  I will forget the light.

  When you have done, pray tell me,

  That I my thoughts may dim;

  Haste! lest while you're lagging,

  I may remember him!

  XIV.

  Father, I bring thee not myself, —

  That were the little load;

  I bring thee the imperial heart

  I had not strength to hold.

  The heart I cherished in my own

  Till mine too heavy grew,

  Yet strangest, heavier since it went,

  Is it too large for you?

  XV.

  We outgrow love like other things

  And put it in the drawer,

  Till it an antique fashion shows

  Like costumes grandsires wore.

  XVI.

  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 of bird

  By boy descried,

  To sing unto the stone

  Of which it died.

  XVII.

  WHO?

  My friend must be a bird,

  Because it flies!

  Mortal my friend must be,

  Because it dies!

  Barbs has it, like a bee.

  Ah, curious friend,

  Thou puzzlest me!

  XVIII.

  He touched me, so I live to know

  That such a day, permitted so,

  I groped upon his breast.

  It was a boundless place to me,

  And silenced, as the awful sea

  Puts minor streams to rest.

  And now, I'm different from before,

  As if I breathed superior air,

  Or brushed a royal gown;

  My feet, too, that had wandered so,

  My gypsy face transfigured now

  To tenderer renown.

  XIX.

  DREAMS.

  Let me not mar that perfect dream

  By an auroral stain,

  But so adjust my daily night

  That it will come again.

  XX.

  NUMEN L
UMEN.

  I live with him, I see his face;

  I go no more away

  For visitor, or sundown;

  Death's single privacy,

  The only one forestalling mine,

  And that by right that he

  Presents a claim invisible,

  No wedlock granted me.

  I live with him, I hear his voice,

  I stand alive to-day

  To witness to the certainty

  Of immortality

  Taught me by Time, — the lower way,

  Conviction every day, —

  That life like this is endless,

  Be judgment what it may.

  XXI.

  LONGING.

  I envy seas whereon he rides,

  I envy spokes of wheels

  Of chariots that him convey,

  I envy speechless hills

  That gaze upon his journey;

  How easy all can see

  What is forbidden utterly

  As heaven, unto me!

  I envy nests of sparrows

  That dot his distant eaves,

  The wealthy fly upon his pane,

  The happy, happy leaves

  That just abroad his window

  Have summer's leave to be,

  The earrings of Pizarro

  Could not obtain for me.

  I envy light that wakes him,

  And bells that boldly ring

  To tell him it is noon abroad, —

  Myself his noon could bring,

  Yet interdict my blossom

  And abrogate my bee,

  Lest noon in everlasting night

  Drop Gabriel and me.

  XXII.

  WEDDED.

  A solemn thing it was, I said,

  A woman white to be,

  And wear, if God should count me fit,

  Her hallowed mystery.

  A timid thing to drop a life

  Into the purple well,

  Too plummetless that it come back

  Eternity until.

  III. NATURE.

  I.

  NATURE'S CHANGES.

  The springtime's pallid landscape

  Will glow like bright bouquet,

  Though drifted deep in parian

  The village lies to-day.

  The lilacs, bending many a year,

  With purple load will hang;

  The bees will not forget the tune

  Their old forefathers sang.

  The rose will redden in the bog,

 

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