Linda's Literary Home

Category: Emily Dickinson

  • Emily Dickinson’s “Distrustful of the Gentian”

    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “Distrustful of the Gentian”

    In Emily Dickinson’s “Distrustful of the Gentian,” the speaker creates a fascinating little drama to explore the melancholy the erupts in her heart at the closing of summer.

    Introduction and Text of “Distrustful of the Gentian”

    Although it seems that a very important word has been omitted from the poem, the drama continues unabated.  It would make an interesting study to add a guessed-at word and then see how it might change the outcome of the poem’s force.  I will venture the guess that the word she meant to supply referred to her mood.  

    Likely she thought, “Weary for my mood,” sounded too ordinary, too mundane, so she meant to come back and add a more dramatic term.  But then alas! she either never found the time nor the term, so it gets left double dashed, imposing a quizzical conundrum on her future audience.

    Distrustful of the Gentian

    Distrustful of the Gentian –
    And just to turn away,
    The fluttering of her fringes
    Chid my perfidy –
    Weary for my –––
    I will singing go –
    I shall not feel the sleet – then –
    I shall not fear the snow.

    Flees so the phantom meadow
    Before the breathless Bee –
    So bubble brooks in deserts
    On Ears that dying lie –
    Burn so the Evening Spires
    To Eyes that Closing go –
    Hangs so distant Heaven –
    To a hand below.

    Commentary on “Distrustful of the Gentian”

    The speaker in Dickinson’s “Distrustful of the Gentian” is lamenting the end of summer—a theme that the poet returns to again and again.  Her love of each season motivated her to address the phenomena in poem after poem.

    First Stanza:  A Mysterious Weariness

    Distrustful of the Gentian –
    And just to turn away,
    The fluttering of her fringes
    Chid my perfidy –
    Weary for my –––
    I will singing go –
    I shall not feel the sleet – then –
    I shall not fear the snow.

    The first issue that accosts a reader of this poem is that it appears the poet failed to supply the object in the prepositional phrase “for my –––” in the fifth line but instead had simply placed a longer dash placeholder.  It does seem that she intended to come back and add a word but perhaps never got around to it.  

    On her handwritten version appear along side the place-holding long dash what appear to  be the letters “a n o w,” but those letters could have been placed there by an editor.  The handwriting does not seem to be that of the poet.

    The speaker begins by professing her distrust of the gentian flower; her distrust causes her to turn from the flower.  And she says that those fluttering fringes of the gentian rebuked her own untrustworthiness, likely for her admission of distrust of the flower.  

    This mutual lack of trust between the speaker and the flower causes the speaker to become “weary,” but because she did not state the object other weariness, the reader must guess what is specifically causing the weariness.

    The speaker with this unspecified weariness claims that she will continue on, and she will do so “singing.”  This singing indicates that she will enliven her mood and keep it high through this cheerful act.  

    She then asserts that through this act of singing she will not experience the negativity of “sleet,” indicating the season of winter.  To further the winter implication, she adds that she will “not fear the snow.”

    The speaker in this little drama is fashioning her preparation for the end of nice, warm summer weather as she tries to ease herself into readying her mind and heart for the onset of a cold, hard winter.

    Second Stanza:  Losing a Favored Season

    Flees so the phantom meadow
    Before the breathless Bee –
    So bubble brooks in deserts
    On Ears that dying lie –
    Burn so the Evening Spires
    To Eyes that Closing go –
    Hangs so distant Heaven –
    To a hand below.

    The second stanza continues to find the speaker painting the end of summer with masterful strokes.  She reports that the meadow is “flee[ing],” and the bee has become “breathless” at the event.  Of course, the meadow is a simple metonymy for all that the the meadow holds in terms of green grasses, colorful flowers, and wild-life such as bees and birds.  

    All those fresh, summer colors will soon turn to a winter brown, and essentially be gone because it will have changed so much.  The meadow is thus phantom-like because its qualities will seem to become mere ghosts of themselves as they can no longer remain full-bodied as in her beloved summer.

    The speaker finds her happy summer-self dying like one who is thirsting in a desert while phantom brooks seem to bubble nearby.  The desert mirage has presented itself, and the poor traveler lies dying with the sound of a babbling water stream flowing through her field of hearing.  

    And for the eyes, those eyes that are “closing,” the spires of evening seem to burn all the more bright.  That time of day when shadows loom becomes more engulfed in darkness as those shadows loom larger in fall and winter.

    The speaker then avers that to those on earth “Heaven” seems so distant, too distant for the hand to grasp. As summer continues to fade, the speaker becomes painfully aware that the next summer is quite far off.  Indeed, it is another fall, winter, and spring away.

    The speaker has focused heavily on the sense of sight in this little drama, but she has also included the sense of sound with the image of the bee and the brook.  She also includes the act of grasping with a hand.  

    As she reaches out her hand to touch the beauty of the seasons, she finds the dying of summer a particularly poignant event; thus she has again created her little drama to play out her melancholy of losing that favored season.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “A sepal, petal, and a thorn”

    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “A sepal, petal, and a thorn”

    Emily Dickinson’s short poem, “A sepal, petal, and a thorn,” consists of only one cinquain, but its five lines pack a prayerful punch into its deceptive shortness.

    Introduction and Text of “A sepal, petal, and a thorn”

    Emily Dickinson’s short poem “A sepal, petal, and a thorn” begins as a riddle but concludes by identifying the speaker and subject of her narrative.  The speaker of this cinquain offers a brief description of a special environment observed by a seemingly outside observer.  However, the observer becomes clear when she is named and identified in the final surprising line.

    A sepal, petal, and a thorn

    A sepal, petal, and a thorn
    Upon a common summer’s morn –
    A flask of Dew – A Bee or two –
    A Breeze – a caper in the trees –
    And I’m a Rose!

    Commentary on “A sepal, petal, and a thorn”

    This awe-inspiring little drama demonstrates the poet’s amazing ability to observe fine details and then create finely crafted poems.

    First Movement:  The Crowds of Summer

    A sepal, petal, and a thorn
    Upon a common summer’s morn –

    The speaker begins her announcement by focusing on key elements in a special environment which include the parts of a flowering plant.  Most, if not all flowers, possess a physical part called a “sepal” or the green supporting element that holds the bloom and protects it as it keeps the flower of the plant intact.

    The speaker then adds the important part of the flower called the “petal.”  The petals conjoined make up the distinct flower itself. It provides the particular shape and coloring that each flower affords to offer its beauty to the human eye.

    The speaker then offers what at first seems to be an odd member of this group, when she adds “thorn.” Not many flowers possess thorns, but the mind of the audience is not permitted to dwell upon this odd addition, for the speaker adds the marvelous and pleasurable descriptor involving the time element for her announcement:  it is summer and the speaker frames the time as containing all that has been described, and then she places them together, “[u]pon a common summer’s morn.”

    Thus far, the speaker has offered only two parts of a flowering plant with the addition of the strange and dangerous sounding element, the thorn.  But she has mitigated her simple list by placing those flowering parts at the wonderful time of year known a summer, and further beautified the environment by making it during the early part of the day or “morn[ing].”

    Second Movement:  Unity in Rime

    A flask of Dew – A Bee or two –
    A Breeze – a caper in the trees –

    The second movement of this marvelously simple, yet complicated, narration continues the catalogue-like listing of natural elements:  dew, bee, breeze, trees.  But to her drama she has added a fantastically adept rime-scheme that holds the element fast together in an almost divine unity.

    The “dew” is held in a “flask”; thus she pronounces her creation, “[a] flask of Dew.”  A flask is a simple bottle-like container, usually associated with alcoholic beverages.  The speaker’s employment of such a container instead of “glass” or “cup” quite deliberately contributes to the intoxication of the beauty and unity of such a summer morning, which has motivated the speaker to enumerate the fine details upon which she is concentrating. 

    The second half of this line, “A Bee or two” completes the rime unification that sparks her observation, which yields the intoxication caused by the beauty of the natural elements; therefore, arises, “A flask of Dew – A Bee or two –,” whose pleasurable rime rings in the mind as it presents the image of a couple of bees hovering over a beautiful flowering plant early in the day.

    The second line of the movement presents an almost uncanny repetition of force through its image and rime as the first line:  again, the speaker has created a pleasurable rime that unifies the elements with the sparks of divine unity, “A Breeze – a caper in the trees.”  As “Dew” and “two” offered a perfect riming set, so do “Breeze” and “trees.”

    The second movement then creates a little drama that could almost stand alone because it has offered an image that implies a flower, calling it a “flash of Dew” over which hover a pair of bees, set in an area where a breeze is blowing and whipping up a “caper” in the surrounding trees.  The employment of the term “caper” offers a magically wonderful element of mischief that the speaker infuses into her drama of a simple flower.

    Third Movement:  Rose Reporting

    And I’m a Rose!

    In the final movement, the speaker announces her identity.  She is a “Rose.”  Little wonder that the accuracy and fidelity to detail have been so brilliantly portrayed; it has been the flower herself who is reporting. Unlike so many of Dickinson’s riddle poems in which she never condescends to name the subject of the riddle, this one proudly announces who the speaker is in direct terms.

    After describing her environment of finely crafted elements–sepal, petal, morn, dew, bees, breeze, trees–the speaker then affords her audience the ultimate unity by stating directly and unequivocally who she is.  With this revelation, the mystery of the “thorn” in the first line is solved.

    This masterfully crafted little drama offers the Dickinson canon one of its main features that demonstrate the ability of the poet to observe and create little masterful dramas out of her observations.  Her ability to make words dance as well as fill out images remains a staple in the Dickinson tool-kit of poetic expression.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “Baffled for just a day or two”

    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “Baffled for just a day or two”

    This poem, “Baffled for just a day or two,” is one of Emily Dickinson’s most puzzling riddles, and like many of her poems, it begs multiple level interpretations from a flower in her garden to the eruption in a garden mind of a new type of poem.

    Introduction and Text of “Baffled for just a day or two”

    Depending on who is being described as “baffled” and “embarrassed,” the poem reveals a chance “encounter” with some unexpected, but likely not completely unknown entity.  Because the location is the speaker’s “garden,” a flower may be presumed.  

    But if “garden” refers to the mythological garden of the poet’s poetry, as mentioned in the poem, “There is another sky,” in which the speaker invites her brother, “Prithee, my brother, / Into my garden come!,” the strange, “unexpected Maid,” may turn out to be a poem.

    Baffled for just a day or two

    Baffled for just a day or two –
    Embarrassed – not afraid –
    Encounter in my garden
    An unexpected Maid.

    She beckons, and the woods start –
    She nods, and all begin –
    Surely, such a country
    I was never in!

    Commentary on “Baffled for just a day or two”

    Emily Dickinson’s metaphysical garden includes many varieties of flowering poems, even those that might have startled her upon first appearance.

    First Stanza:  Some Stranger in Her Garden Has Appeared

    Baffled for just a day or two –
    Embarrassed – not afraid –
    Encounter in my garden
    An unexpected Maid.

    The speaker begins with an odd remark, indicating that someone or some entity was confused and perhaps struggling to emerge, as a flower pushing itself up through the soil might do.  The entity remained in the situation for only a couple of days.  Because of its struggle, which likely looked awkward, it was “embarrassed,” but it struggled on without fear.

    This event happened in the speaker’s garden, where she “encounter[ed]” “an unexpected Maid.”  The speaker never reveals explicitly who or what this “Maid” is.  She leaves it up to the reader to take as much from her riddle/poem as possible.  And it is likely that she thinks of this poem as so deeply personal that she will remain blissfully unconcerned even if no one ever grasps her exact reference.

    Second Stanza:  From Some Hitherto Unvisited Metaphysical Plane

    She beckons, and the woods start –
    She nods, and all begin –
    Surely, such a country
    I was never in!

    This important “Maid,” who has made her appearance, then gestures enticingly, and that coaxing invitation causes the “woods” to begin moving toward her.  The “Maid” then “nods” and things begin to happen.  What begins to happen, the speaker is not divulging.

    The speaker then asserts another odd remark, saying that she “was never” in “such a country.”  That claim baffles the reader, for surely the speaker cannot be saying she was never in her garden, whether it refers to her literal, physical garden or to her figurative, metaphysical garden.

    But ah, knowing Dickinson, how mystically inclined her mind worked, her speaker could, in fact, be exaggerating because after the flower appeared, its beauty was beyond the gardener-speaker’s expectations.

    Or if the “Maid” is a poem, the speaker is revealing that the poem was so new, fresh, and profound that she feels she has never before encountered such a piece, and therefore it must come from a “country” or place in her mind/soul in which she, up to this point, has never visited.

    The poem works well on either the physical (Maid as flower) or the metaphysical (Maid as poem), as all great poetry does.  And while a reader might choose to accept the physical, readers who choose the metaphysical are likely to become more in tune with the Dickinsonian way of thinking.

    The Dickinson Mind

    Emily Dickinson was a poetic genius, as her reputation clearly affirms.  Her poems have delighted audiences since her works became widely disseminated.  Her poems reveal a mind that paid close attention to details.  The details that surrounded her in her home and the details of nature outside her home which she had the privilege of observing became her material for creating her little poetic dramas.


    However, the Dickinson mind was not content to merely describe the minutia of everyday life or even of living a New England life.  Emily Dickinson grasped early on that the world was filled with meaning.  The life she was living and the lives which all of her contemporaries were living sustained a meaning that only suggested itself to the individuals.

    But for Dickinson that suggestion remained a guiding force, urging her to know all she could know.  Her mind was a hungry, fierce animal that stalked it prey with a vengeance; it prey was that suggestion of meaning that resided in every created thing.

    God has created an untold number of things, and each and every one of those things holds untold levels of meaning.  Interestingly, it seems that only God’s things known as human beings are capable of wondering about the meaning of things, the meaning of life, the meaning of living a proper life.

    Also interesting, it also seems that only a new of those human beings have noticed that all God’s creation contains things with meaning.  Most individuals grasp the fact that things are useful, and in employing hat usefulness, reason and wonder often take a backseat.  People seem to leave the thinking of profound subjects for simply getting through another day with enough shelter, food, and raiment to sustain life.

    Emily Dickinson was of the few who take life so seriously that they contemplate, gather the fruits of their contemplations, and then create little dramas out of them.  Her life-long amazement that existence existed motivated her to continue creating her little garden and her world that thrived under “another sky.”

    The Dickinsonian mind is itself a thing of wonder.  Her depth of peering into something so simple as a flower remains a curiosity.  Her poems are testimonies to the amazing quality of her thinking.  While her depth and force may be especially extraordinary, they, nevertheless, are part and parcel of every human mind.

    All human minds possess the same capabilities that the Dickinsonian mind possessed.  The only difference is in their execution.  Dickinson gave in to urge to know everything she could about everything she encountered.  Any limiting factors standing in the way of her progress became mountains that she gladly climbed, and at the top of each mount, she sat gleefully composing the details of her journey upward.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “I would distal a cup”

    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “I would distal a cup”

    Emily Dickinson’s “I would distal a cup” mimics a toast to a departing friend.  It appears in a letter to newspaper editor Samuel Bowles, a family friend.

    Introduction and Text of “I would distil a cup”

    The text of Emily Dickinson’s “I would distal a cup” in prose form appears in a letter to Samuel Bowles, editor of the Springfield Republican, the most influential newspaper in New England around 1858.  The letter begins with the writer thanking Mr. Bowles for sending her a pamphlet.  She expresses uncertainly that he is the actual sender but thanks him in case he is.

    The rest of the letter finds the writer communicating her famous claim that her friends are her “estate,” and celebrating the notion that friendship enlivens her, keeping her on her toes.  The letter bears the date August 1858 and she remarks that the workers are gathering the “second Hay.”  

    Thus the summer season is winding down.  It is at this point in the letter that she states, “I would distil a cup, and bear to all my friends, drinking to her no more astir, by beck, or burn, or moor!”

    Apparently, Dickinson thought enough of this sentence to include it as a full-fledged poem in one of the many  fascicles that Thomas H. Johnson later edited for publication in his The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, the groundbreaking work that restored Dickinson’s poems to their original forms.  

    In the letter, Dickinson’s sentence-turned-poem seems to jump up out the verbiage as a toast at a gala dinner party, wherein one would rise, raise a cup, and offer the toast to one being recognized.

    I would distil a cup

    I would distil a cup,
    And bear to all my friends,
    Drinking to her no more astir,
    By beck, or burn, or moor!

    Commentary on “I would distal a cup”

    In a letter to Samuel Bowels, Emily Dickinson puts on display her colorful, chatty conversational ability, including this original prose-statement, which later became a finished poem.

    First Movement:  Creating, Rising, and Offering

    I would distil a cup,
    And bear to all my friends,

    The speaker, as if rising to offer a toast at some gathering of friends, imparts that she wishes to offer a toast “to all [her] friends.”  The drink is likely a fine whiskey; thus the speaker conflated the manufacture of the drink with her lifting the cup.  

    She makes herself more important to the creation of the drink than she, or anyone offering a toast, would deserve.  But the exaggeration simply implies her devotion to her friends, who are by the way, her “estate.”  Not only is she offering a toast, but she is also creating the drink in order to offer it.

    Then after the speaker had created this distilled beverage, she lifts her cup and bears its contents to all of her friends.  At the point that poem appears in her letter to Bowles, she had made it clear that she can make chatty conversation.  

    She has claimed that she wishes to be forgiven for hoarding her friends.  She has surmised that those who were once poor have a very different view of gold than those who have never suffered poverty.

    The letter writer even invokes God, saying He does not worry so much as we or else he would “give us no friends, lest we forget him.”  Playing on the expression, “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,” she compares what one might anticipate in “Heaven” as opposed to what one experiences on earth and finds the latter more appealing.

    However, the speaker then abruptly tells Bowles that, “Summer stopped since you were here,” after which she mourns the loss of summer with several acerbic witticisms.  She offers Bowles some paraphrases from her “Pastor,” who has dismissed humanity as nothing but a “Worm.”  

    Then she poses the question to Bowles:  “Do you think we shall ‘see God’?”  This abrupt inquiry likely startled Bowles, which is no doubt the writer’s purpose.  But then she moves on to the image of “Abraham” “strolling” with God “in genial promenade,” seemingly answering her own startling question.

    Second Movement:  As Summer Abandons the Streams and Meadows

    Drinking to her no more astir,
    By beck, or burn, or moor!

    After having distilled the fine liquor, poured it into her cup, she lifts it and offers her toast to the one who is in the process of departing—her beloved summer.  The summer season is no longer “astir” in the streams or on the meadows.  

    She employs the colorful terms “beck” and “burn” (bourne) to refer to streams of water.  And then she refers to fields, heaths, or meadows as “moor,” likely also for its colorful, exotic texture.

    Immediately after the toasting sentence in the letter, the letter writer abruptly bids Mr. Bowles, “Good night,” but she still has more to say and proceeds to say it.  She then claims that “this is what they say who come back in the morning.”  

    She seems to be identifying with summer who is saying good-bye but only to return “in the morning.”  But her certainty that “Confidence in Daybreak modifiers Dusk,” allows her to accept the pair of opposites that continually blight her world.

    The speaker has difficulty even saying good-night or good-bye to a friend once she has opened the conversation. But she knows she must wind down, just a summer has done; thus she wishes blessings for Bowles’ wife and children, even going to far as to send kisses for lips of the little ones.  

    She then tells Bowles that she and the rest of the Dickinson family remain eager to visit with him again.  And she will dispense with “familiar truths,” for his sake.

    Emily Dickinson and at the Exotic

    Emily Dickinson’s penchant for exoticisms likely enamored her of some of the more cryptic expressions placed in her letters.  That penchant allowed her be so cheeky as to select certain expressions and later present them in a fascicle as a poem.  

    It also explains her employment of terms for ordinary nouns such a field, river, creek, or meadow.  She kept her dictionary handy and made abundant use of it. Luckily, her intuitive perception and ability with language kept her from suffering the clownish terminology often detected by users of a thesaurus.

    Image b: Samuel Bowles – Emily Dickinson Museum

  • Emily Dickinson’s “The Guest is gold and crimson”

    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Guest is gold and crimson”

    Emily Dickinson’s “The Guest is gold and crimson” dramatizes sunset as a guest who visits every door, every day.  This poem functions as a riddle, as the speaker never names the subject she is describing.

    Introduction and Text of “The Guest is gold and crimson”

    Within her collection of some 1,775 poems, Emily Dickinson has included at least 22 that focus on the diurnal phenomena known as “sunset.”  So fascinated by the act was the poet that she creates speakers to dramatize it in many colorful outpourings.  

    In “The Guest is gold and crimson,” the speaker personifies “sunset” as a visitor who comes to town “at nightfall,” and he visits everyone in town as he “stops at every door.”  And then the speaker follows the guest as though he were a bird moving beyond her own town and territory to other shores.

    The Guest is gold and crimson

    The Guest is gold and crimson –
    An Opal guest and gray –
    Of Ermine is his doublet –
    His Capuchin gay –

    He reaches town at nightfall –
    He stops at every door –
    Who looks for him at morning
    I pray him too – explore
    The Lark’s pure territory –
    Or the Lapwing’s shore!

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PQVp-qZ1H5c&t=

    Commentary on “The Guest is gold and crimson”

    The speaker in Emily Dickinson’s “The Guest is gold and crimson” is dramatizing sunset as a guest who visits every door, every day.  This poem functions as a riddle, as the speaker never names the subject she is describing.

    First Movement: Elemental Coloration in the Heavens

    The Guest is gold and crimson –
    An Opal guest and gray –

    The speaker describes the subject of her drama by stating the colors of sunset.  Readers will immediately recognize the colors of “gold and crimson” as the remarkable duo of hues that accompany the onset of the setting of the sun.  

    Of course, depending upon the atmospheric accumulation of elements, those golds and crimsons may blend in outrageous ways that may put the viewer in mind of classic paintings by famous artists.

    That those golds and crimsons come against the background of the sky results in an accompanying guest who is “Opal” as well as “gray.”  The blue of the sky is influenced by the golds and appears opalescent against a darkening or graying out appearance.

    At the opening scene, the speaker does not intrude upon her drama, except to state in definitive descriptors what she has actually observed from her own point of view.  As she colorizes the scene, she offers her audience the room to blend those colors to their own experiences.

    Second Movement:  A Dandy Caller

    Of Ermine is his doublet –
    His Capuchin gay –

    The speaker continues her description of the guest, who now resembles a gentleman caller, wearing a close-cropped jacket with a fur trim, and over it all he sports a lively colored cape.  Thus, sunset has now been identified as a guest, who is a man dressed rather dandily.

    Again, the textures along with colors allow her audience to envision the broad sky turning all mixtures of hues as the sun begins to close its eye on the speaker’s part of the earth.  The speaker’s world is becoming dark, but not without a dramatic play of wild and glorious events happening all around the daystar as it takes its leave at nightfall.

    Third Movement:  An Virtually Omnipresent Visitor

    He reaches town at nightfall –
    He stops at every door –

    Now this gentleman caller, this magnificently dressed guest, appears at nightfall.  This guest has a delicious yet totally variant habit of not only visiting people in the town whom he knows, but he also visits every household as he “stops at every door.”

    The marvelously arrayed guest is visible to everyone, everyday.  The speaker must be so enthralled to describe such a magnanimous and generous visitor.  This fine gentleman appears all gloriously decked out and performs his drama for all to enjoy.

    Fourth Movement:  Funny Speculation

    Who looks for him at morning
    I pray him too – explore

    The speaker then offers a humorous speculation regarding someone who would be foolish enough to try to see this guest in the morning; such a thought is, of course, silly because this guest appears only at night.  However, the speaker thus encourages such a person who has gone looking for this guest in the morning to continue looking, that is, keep “explor[ing].” 

    Fifth Movement: The Other Side of the Planet

    The Lark’s pure territory –
    Or the Lapwing’s shore!

    If one by chance, after much exploration, happens upon the “Lark’s pure territory,” or around the Australian continent, one might catch a glimpse of this quest.  Morning in Australia is, of course, nighttime in USA New England.

    But the speaker’s ultimate recommendation is simply to look for this guest on the “Lapwing’s shore,” likely where she has observed him.  Do not go looking for such a remarkable, colorful event anywhere but where you are. And as you find him at nightfall, you will find him to be a constant visitor, who will always astound you with his dramatic appearance.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “One Sister have I in our house”

    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “One Sister have I in our house”

    Emily Dickinson’s “One Sister have I in our house” is a tribute to her sister-in-law Susan Gilbert Dickinson, who married Emily’s brother Austin.

    Introduction and Text of “One Sister have I in our house”

    Susan Gilbert Dickinson became Emily Dickinson’s sister-in-law, but she also served Emily’s poetic talent by advising Emily about books to read and ideas to consider.  Susan thus played an important rôle in Emily’s pursuit of empirical knowledge. 

    Susan had traveled extensively and had lived outside of Emily’s New England bubble; thus she was able to help Emily broaden her horizons regarding worldly knowledge.

    While the Austin Dickinson home, the “Evergreens,” became the locus of tragedy, and likely Emily did not know the extent to which her adoptive sister might have shared in the blame for some of that discord, Emily remained beholden to Susan for the many useful and important aspects of art that Susan brought into Emily’s life. 

    Emily possessed the wherewithal to look on the bright side of life and celebrate it, even in the face of adversity. Thus the following poem is Emily’s tribute to her second sister, who lived “a hedge away.”

    One Sister have I in our house

    One Sister have I in our house,
    And one, a hedge away.
    There’s only one recorded,
    But both belong to me.

    One came the road that I came –
    And wore my last year’s gown –
    The other, as a bird her nest,
    Builded our hearts among.

    She did not sing as we did –
    It was a different tune –
    Herself to her a music
    As Bumble bee of June.

    Today is far from Childhood –
    But up and down the hills
    I held her hand the tighter –
    Which shortened all the miles –

    And still her hum
    The years among,
    Deceives the Butterfly;
    Still in her Eye
    The Violets lie
    Mouldered this many May.

    I spilt the dew –
    But took the morn –I chose this single star
    From out the wide night’s numbers –
    Sue – forevermore!

    Image:  Lavinia Dickinson  – FindAGrave

    Commentary on “One Sister have I in our house”

    Emily Dickinson’s “One Sister have I in our house” is a tribute to her sister-in-law Susan Gilbert Dickinson, who married Emily’s brother Austin.

    First Stanza:  Two Sisters

    One Sister have I in our house,
    And one, a hedge away.
    There’s only one recorded,
    But both belong to me.

    The speaker begins by stating colorfully that she has two sisters:  one lives in the same building as the speaker, while the other one resides in a nearby edifice that is “a hedge away.”  She then states that one sister is legally hers having been “recorded” as such, but she recognizes them both as her siblings.

    Dickinson in this poem is once again employing her riddle-like style, but she never names her legal sister with whom she resides, while in the final line, she does reveal the name of the sister who lives nearby: “Sue – forevermore!”

    “Sue” is Susan Gilbert whom Dickinson had known for many years, and who married Austin Dickinson, Emily’s only brother.  Emily adored her brother and she then came to love her sister-in-law and accepted her as a sister, as this poem portrays the tribute to Sue Gilbert.

    Second Stanza:  Contrasting Sisters

    One came the road that I came –
    And wore my last year’s gown –
    The other, as a bird her nest,
    Builded our hearts among.

    Continuing to contrast the differences that exist between the two “sisters” whom the speaker is claiming, the speaker reveals that she is a bit older than her natural-birth sister by saying that that sister was able to fit into the garments that the speaker had outgrown, “last year’s gown.”  And the natural, legal sister has traveled the same “road” that the speaker has traveled.

    The adopted sister came into their lives like a bird that builds its nest among the leaves.  But this sister claimed their hearts, and thus the speaker can now feel comfortable calling her sister.

    Third Stanza:  Seeing New Englandly

    She did not sing as we did –
    It was a different tune –
    Herself to her a music
    As Bumble bee of June.

    The new sister also has a somewhat different style of viewing life as well as a different way of speaking from the Dickinson’s.  Emily once said “I see–New Englandly–.”  And she, of course, spoke New Englandly.

    While Susan Gilbert was born in Massachusetts, she was raised from age 5 in New York; thus she would not have acquired the same Massachusetts (New England) accent that the Dickinson’s would have employed.

    Nevertheless, the speaker has enjoyed the speaking, singing of the newly added sister, as she compares that new sister’s accent to the June bumble bee.  That sound at first stings the mind but becomes a welcome sound because it means that summer is here.

    Fourth Stanza:  A Pleasant Trek

    Today is far from Childhood –
    But up and down the hills
    I held her hand the tighter –
    Which shortened all the miles –

    The speaker now reveals that she is reporting from a period of time that has moved them all way beyond “Childhood.”  And the speaker thus reports that having trekked through the landscape with her new sister and “held her hand” even tighter as the years have flown by has made the speaker’s life more pleasant.

    The miles of travel through life can become long and tedious, but having a pleasant companion can make those miles seem less long and tedious.  The new sister has done that for the speaker, and thus this tribute to that sister.

    Fifth Stanza:  Retaining an Eye for Beauty

    And still her hum
    The years among,
    Deceives the Butterfly;
    Still in her Eye
    The Violets lie
    Mouldered this many May.

    The speaker continues to remark about the sister’s speaking.  That sister has the ability to fit in to the New England way of things remarkably well.   She is so well suited to the New England way that the natives may even think she grew up a New England resident.

    The speaker then reports that although many months of May have come and gone, the sister’s eye for detecting the natural beauty in flowers or little violet blooms remains in tact; the “Violet” thus becomes a symbol for all of nature in these lines.

    Sixth Stanza:  Achieving Harmony and Balance

    I spilt the dew –
    But took the morn –
    I chose this single star
    From out the wide night’s numbers –
    Sue – forevermore!

    The speaker finally reports that she became aware of her great admiration for her adoptive sister as morning seemed to overtake her in thought that was as gentle and wet as the “dew.”  These thoughts that watered her growing plant of musing caused the speaker to pick out this remarkable friend who has served the speaker’s life like a sister.

    The speaker calls that new sister a “star” for the light of knowledge the sister has provided the speaker.  The appreciative speaker vows to continue to respect and honor that relationship that has grown between the two writers.

    Image:  Susan Dickinson – Emily Dickinson Museum

    Susan Dickinson Also a Writer

    Susan Gilbert Dickinson was also a writer and had advised Emily on a wide variety of topics important to poets.  Emily once quipped to Susan, “With the exception of Shakespeare, you have told me of more knowledge than any one living.”

    Emily also called such praise strange, yet poets know that knowledge is a priceless gift, and they understand that honoring the giver of such gifts is necessary for a balanced life.  Dickinson was completely aware of the necessity of striving for and achieving harmony in her life, and she took every precaution to arrive safely on the shores of harmony and balance.

    Image:  Austin Dickinson – The Daily Gardener

  • Emily Dickinson’s “Sleep is supposed to be”

    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “Sleep is supposed to be”

    Dickinson’s “Sleep is supposed to be” redefines two common terms employed daily but, to the speaker’s mind, remain misidentified.

    Introduction with Text of  “Sleep is supposed to be”

    While the speaker in “The morns are meeker than they were” offers a playful riddle in order to elaborate on the beauty of the fall season, the speaker of “Sleep is supposed to be” has a very different purpose; this speaker disputes the common conception of “sleep” and “morning.”  

    The speaker then offers the common notion about what sleep and morning are understood to be and contrasts it with a different level of awakening.  She is referring to the spiritual awakening, when the soul and the Oversoul become one.   Dickinson often describes those states of awareness that transcend the physical level of existence.

    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 which, 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.

    Reading of “Sleep is supposed to be”   

    Commentary on “Sleep is supposed to be”

    The speaker wants to redefine a term that by her reasoning has been mischaracterized.

    First Stanza:  Normal Sleep

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

    The speaker begins by stating that normally folks think of sleep as the act when people shut their eyes.    Those normal people are just everyday folk who go about their day waking, eating, working, playing, procreating, and of course shutting their eyes to sleep, before the next day finds them doing those ordinary things again.  

    Those individuals are the “sane” souls because they all agree on the common definition of “sleep.”  For them there is no other definition of “sleep”; thus the speaker must now enlighten them.  

    Second Stanza:  Opening Up a Mystic Paradise

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

    After asserting that the normal, sane folks of the world have defined “sleep” a certain way, the speaker must now insert a new definition into the lexicon of society’s manners and language.   Instead of being merely a “shutting of the eye,” this speaker has discovered that sleep also allows a new world to emerge—one that is “grand.”  

    This world is a mystic paradise, where the angels appear everywhere.  They appear as “hosts” who give witness that this seemingly unusual realm exists.  The speaker has thus elevated the common activity in which all creatures worldwide engage to a metaphysical activity that she can be sure very few have experienced.

    The speaker therefore likely knows that what she is reporting will be understood by very few folks, but by dramatizing it in a poem she may reach some on some intuitive level. And even if they think she is merely describing dreams, well, that is better than continuing to devalue sleep as merely “shutting of the eye.”

    Third Stanza:  Considering Morning

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

    The speaker now moves on to the second term which she is urged to redefine for humanity—”Morn” or morning.  As with “sleep,” she tells her readers/listeners what people who deem themselves knowledgeable consider “morn” to be.   Those illustrious but limited folks consider morning to be merely the time that day begins, that time between the “shutting of the eye” and the “breaking of the day .”

    Fourth Stanza:  Morning Every Morning

    Morning has not occurred!

    The speaker then startles her readers/listeners by boldly asserting with emphasis, placing her announcement in one line, in order to draw maximum attention to its content.  

    This speaker insists that, in fact, there has been no “Morning” yet.  Despite the thinking of those smart people that morning is simply the time that day breaks, she courageously declares that “Morning has not occurred!”  Such a startling statement throws open all the windows of the mind.  What could the speaker be thinking?  After all morning occurs every morning, does it not?

    Fifth Stanza:   The True Morning

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

    The speaker then describes what a true “Morning” is.  A true morning is the time that the souls greets their Maker.  A great light appears that spreads from the forehead (“East”) out into that Heaven beyond the physical cosmos.  

    That union of soul and Oversoul is a time that is marked by a brilliant flag, marked by spreading of the brightest light beyond all physical light and sight.

    The speaker then concludes:  “That is the break of Day.” (Or “That is the break of Day.”) She emphasizes her description by emphasizing the word, “That.”  Modern-day type-script uses italics; Dickinson underlined the word, as is necessary without modern-day technological advances with the use of word processing.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “The morns are meeker than they were”

    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “The morns are meeker than they were”

    Emily Dickinson’s “The morns are meeker than they were” is one of the poet’s riddle poems; it is focusing on the phenomenon of how mornings change with the season.

    Introduction with Text of  “The morns are meeker than they were”

    Emily Dickinson’s speaker in “The morns are meeker than they were” is observing the natural features surrounding her.  She has begun to detect a transformation in how morning is now behaving.

    She then remarks about the behavior of the trees and eventually focuses a comment on the “field.” Finally, she reveals how all these alterations will influence her own behavior.

    This poem presents itself as one of Emily Dickinson’s riddles, in which she describes the subject but does not name it;  thus she allows her audience to figure out the answer to the riddle.

    The morns are meeker than they were –

    The morns are meeker than they were –
    The nuts are getting brown –
    The berry’s cheek is plumper –
    The Rose is out of town.

    The Maple wears a gayer scarf –
    The field a scarlet gown –
    Lest I should be old fashioned
    I’ll put a trinket on.

    Reading of “The morns are meeker than they were” 

    Commentary on “The morns are meeker than they were”

    Mornings change with the season.

    First Stanza:  The Rose Has Flown

    The morns are meeker than they were –
    The nuts are getting brown –
    The berry’s cheek is plumper –
    The Rose is out of town.

    The  speaker observes that mornings have become more sedate and quiet than they had been.  At this point, readers/listeners have no idea why the behavior of morning should have become “meeker.”

    The second line, however, begins to open up the answer to a riddle, as she begins to drop hints about her subject.   She describes the browning of the nuts, and the plumping of the “cheek” of the berry.

    And by the final line, which reports that the roses have gone away, no longer decorating the summer day, the reader can be sure that the speaker is describing the onset of the autumn season, a season Dickinson loved and found unusually inspiring for her poetic musings.

    Second Stanza:  A Trinket for the New Fashion

    The Maple wears a gayer scarf –
    The field a scarlet gown –
    Lest I should be old fashioned
    I’ll put a trinket on.

    The speaker now offers further clues about her subject.  Maple trees are now decked out in leaves that look more varied and that seem more merry than the simple summer green they had hitherto adorned.  Even the meadow now dons a colorful dress. Replacing its summer green attire is a bold “scarlet gown.”

    After reporting on all the changes the speaker has observed in the behavior of morning, the coloring of the nuts, the fattening of the berries, the absence of the roses, the maple leaves turning all colorful.

    And the meadow is sporting a bright red dress. The speaker now announces that she will begin wearing some “trinket,” in order to keep up with all the modern day apparel.  

    She does not want to be caught dressed for summer and appear “old fashioned” among the newly minted, colorful styles being sported by the beings that constitute her “society” of creatures during this new and exciting season.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “I never told the buried gold”

    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “I never told the buried gold”

    In Emily Dickinson’s “I never told the buried gold,”  the speaker has made an amazing discovery; she then creates a little drama in which she muses on whether to reveal that discovery. 

    Introduction with Text of “I never told the buried gold”

    The speaker in Emily Dickinson’s “I never told the buried gold” seems to be sharing a secret, but it is a secret so bizarre that she must couch it deeply in mystery.  

    She has realized a possession that is buried so deep in her psyche that she must dramatize it by creating a parable-like discourse, and she yet remains so ambivalent about revealing it that she seems to continue to waver as her drama unfolds.

    I never told the buried gold

    I never told the buried gold
    Upon the hill – that lies –
    I saw the sun – his plunder done
    Crouch low to guard his prize.

    He stood as near
    As stood you here –
    A pace had been between –
    Did but a snake bisect the brake
    My life had forfeit been.

    That was a wondrous booty –
    I hope ’twas honest gained.
    Those were the fairest ingots
    That ever kissed the spade!

    Whether to keep the secret –
    Whether to reveal –
    Whether as I ponder
    Kidd will sudden sail –

    Could a shrewd advise me
    We might e’en divide –
    Should a shrewd betray me –
    Atropos decide! 

    Commentary on “I never told the buried gold”

    The speaker is dramatizing her process of decision-making involving a recent discovery.

    First Stanza:  Revealing a Secret

    I never told the buried gold
    Upon the hill – that lies –
    I saw the sun – his plunder done
    Crouch low to guard his prize.

    The speaker begins by reporting that she has never told anyone about this treasure that she possesses.  Then immediately she begins to liken it to the valuable metal, “gold.”  She places that gold upon a hill where the sun is guarding it.  This gold belongs to the sun in the same way that her possession belongs to her.

    The sun seems to “plunder” as it moves about in its shining rays over the landscape, and it then stoops over the hill where the gold is buried; in stealth, the sun watches over its treasure.  The speaker has observed this odd behavior of the heavenly orb.  

    Thus, she likens her own guarding of her  “prize” to that of the sun guarding the gold.    The speaker intends to guard her prize because of its unusual nature, but the sun will continue to keep its prize safe out of sheer natural necessity.

    Second Stanza:  The Shock of Recognition

    He stood as near
    As stood you here –
    A pace had been between –
    Did but a snake bisect the brake
    My life had forfeit been.

    The speaker now has the sun standing near her, as near as the imaginary audience she is addressing.  There is, however, “a pace” between them.  

    And then a snake slithers through the thicket, dividing the foliage as it is wont to do.  (This image is reminiscent of the line, “The Grass divides as with a Comb,” in Dickinson’s riddle poem, “A narrow Fellow in the Grass.”)

    The speaker then makes the odd claim that her life had been forfeited, suggesting that for an instant she likely gave out a gasp of fear before regaining her equilibrium enough to continue living, thinking, and creating her drama.  The snake supplies the impetus for the notion of life forfeiting.

    While the speaker suddenly experiences the epiphany that she was in possession of this magnificent, golden gift, she also experiences a shock that unsettled her for at least a brief moment.

    Third Stanza:  Desire to be Worthy 

    That was a wondrous booty –
    I hope ’twas honest gained.
    Those were the fairest ingots
    That ever kissed the spade!

    The speaker now admits that what she has realized about herself is tantamount to coming into the possession of large storehouse of amazing gifts or treasure.  She calls her treasure “wondrous booty,” and then she indicates that she hopes she has earned this amazing treasure-trove, and not merely stolen it or been given it willy-nilly, or inexplicably.

    The speaker then sizes up the value of this mysterious possession, by continuing the “gold” metaphor.  Now calling her possession “ingots,” she estimates their value as the “fairest” “that ever kissed the spade.”  

    Of course, ingots must be dug out of the ground, and when they are found by the excavating shovel, those ingots meet the metal of the “spade” with resounding touch, which the speaker calls a “kiss.”

    Fourth Stanza:  Whether to Reveal the Secret

    Whether to keep the secret –
    Whether to reveal –
    Whether as I ponder
    Kidd will sudden sail –

    Again, the speaker becomes ambivalent about revealing this amazing “secret.”  She lists her toggling of the mind that cannot decide if she should keep hidden this new knowledge or whether she ought to announce it.

    As the speaker muses on the issue—whether to tell or not, she reckons that Captain Kidd might just be sailing to retrieve his own booty of treasure, which by legend he had buried in the Caribbean.

    This clever employment of “Kidd” and the allusion that it implies deepens the “gold” and treasure metaphor, continuing the revelation of the value the speaker has placed on this mysterious treasure of which she has become aware.

    Fifth Stanza:  Leaving the Mystery to Eternity

    Could a shrewd advise me
    We might e’en divide –
    Should a shrewd betray me –
    Atropos decide! 

    The speaker then makes a hilarious admission.  If someone who is smart enough to know whether she should reveal her treasure should let her know what is appropriate, she would be willing to give that person part of her treasure.  

    But she does not know if there is such a knowledgeable person who is trustworthy.  If she reveals her secret to the wrong “shrewd,” she might live to regret it.  She could be ridiculed and left to suffer much betrayal.

    By calling her potential advisor a “shrewd,” the speaker is making fun of such individuals whom she thinks might believe they are, in fact, capable of advising her.  But because she allows that a “shrewd” could likely betray her confidence, she remains ambivalent about seeking their advice.

    Instead of making a definite decision about whether to seek counsel from one of those shrewds, the speaker decides not to decide.  She will leave the decision to “Atropos,” one of the Greek Fates, who is responsible for deciding the exact time for the end of each human life.  Atropos held the scissors that cut the thread of life.

    The  speaker thus decides to leave her decision to the ultimate decision-maker, one whose decision is not only final but made without equivocation.   The speaker will remain in humble possession of her knowledge that she owns a mystic, creative soul that will from now on guide her in her creation of little dramas on her pathway through life.  

    Without having revealed her secret to the wide, gaping yet eyeless majority of the world, the speaker has revealed her secret only to those who will understand. It is in that respect that the speaker’s poem is like a parable of Lord Jesus the Christ, who spoke through that form only to those who had ears to hear.

  • Emily Dickinson’s “My wheel is in the dark!”

    Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant likeness of the poet

    Emily Dickinson’s “My wheel is in the dark!”

    The speaker in Emily Dickinson’s “My wheel is in the dark!” is making a statement about knowing without sense perception.  This subject especially interested the poet, who was specifically concerned with issues such as immortality and life after death.

    Introduction and Text of “My wheel is in the dark!”

    Despite the grammatical error in the last line of Emily Dickinson’s “My wheel is in the dark!,” the speaker’s revelation shines through clearly and offers a unique perspective about the nature of understanding and explaining the ineffable.

    My wheel is in the dark!

    My wheel is in the dark!
    I cannot see a spoke
    Yet know its dripping feet
    Go round and round.

    My foot in on the Tide!
    An unfrequented road –
    Yet have all roads
    A clearing in the end –

    Some have resigned the Loom –
    Some in the busy tomb
    Find a quaint employ –

    Some with new – stately feet –
    Pass royal through the gate –
    Flinging the problem back
    At you and I!

    Commentary on “My wheel is in the dark!”

    Rendering information about the ineffable level of being is virtually impossible, but through use of poetic devices and other literary language that rendering becomes somewhat meaningful and therefore understandable to the mind and heart.

    First Stanza:  Vision by Implication

    My wheel is in the dark!
    I cannot see a spoke
    Yet know its dripping feet
    Go round and round.

    The speaker reports that she is capable of knowing that the spoke on a wheel moves in a circular motion as it drips water even though there is no light on the wheel.  She is revealing that she, as all human beings are, is able to infer information without direct sense perception that might otherwise reveal such knowledge.

    Human beings prefer to rely on what they can “see” or “hear.”  But sometimes seeing and hearing are not possible.  For example, human beings are convinced that love and hate both exist, even though they cannot see the concepts to which those nouns refer. 

    The ultimate argument ensues from the issue of whether God exists.  Some will argue that because he cannot “see” God, then God must not exist.  The argument runs further as the atheist insists that he also cannot hear, feel, taste, or touch God—and what cannot be experienced through the senses, therefore, does not exist.

    The speaker in “My wheel is in the dark!” thus counters such an argument by demonstrating that not only is metaphysical knowledge based on intuition and inference but also simple knowledge about things like wet wheels that go round and round in the dark.

    Second Stanza:  An Uncharted Path

    My foot in on the Tide!
    An unfrequented road –
    Yet have all roads
    A clearing in the end –

    The speaker continues with her comparison stating that she is walking an uncharted path, but she knows, again by intuition and inference, that this road will eventually lead to “a clearing.”  

    Despite the danger, such as would be experienced by having one’s foot “on the Tide,” the speaker can, with fairly great certainty, be assured that all the danger and complexity of the road she walks will end, and all will be understandable when she moves into that landscape which features clarity.

    The speaker places that clarity at the end, which is at the end of her life, a time at which she will come to the end of the path and enter the “clearing.”  Her “unfrequented road” is unique as is each road each soul must frequent as it passes through life on the physical level of being.

    Third Stanza t:  Resigning the Loom

    Some have resigned the Loom –
    Some in the busy tomb
    Find a quaint employ –

    The speaker now reports that others have departed from this world.  She indicates that departure by referring to their occupation while alive.  She colorfully claims that some of the folks who have died simply “resigned the Loom.” 

    But she does not offer a catalogue or list of what resigners have resigned.  By mentioning one earthly occupation only, she implies that that “Loom” not only refers to the occupation of weaving but also to the fabric that exists as life itself.

    Thus those “some” that have “resigned” from the fabric of life find a different way to engage their time and effort “in the busy tomb”; she claims that they “find a quaint employ.” 

    The speaker is reporting from her intuition that after death the soul will continue its engagements, even though its engagements after leaving the physical encasement will be different.  They nevertheless will be “quaint,” an obviously optimistic claim.

    Fourth Stanza:  Remaining Mum about the Afterlife

    Some with new – stately feet –
    Pass royal through the gate –
    Flinging the problem back
    At you and I!

    Those souls who will remain busy with quaint engagements, however, are not the only class of souls that the speaker intuits.  In addition to those who engage in the those quaint pursuits, there are those who will become similar to royalty.  They will possess “stately feet” and enter the kingdom of heaven on those stately feet.

    The speaker then returns to the world but without any definitive answer about what the real differences are between life and afterlife.  When those of the royal, stately feet pass through that gate into paradise, they will not reveal their new experiences; they will simply be “flinging the problem” into the faces of those left watching for wheels “in the dark” and walking “on the Tide.”  

    Only those who have actually passed through that heavenly gate will understand what that experience offers.  Thus we–”you and I”–will continue to speculate about that experience, as the speaker has done in this poem and the many more that are to come.

    Dickinson and Grammar

    As Dickinson’s readers discover, the poet often misspelled words and left her grammatical constructions a little cockeyed.  Thomas H. Johnson, the editor of The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, who restored her poems to their near originals, has revealed that he did correct some misspellings. 

    And it remains unclear why he left the inaccurate grammatical construction, “At you and I!”; the correct pronoun form in that prepositional phrase is “me” instead of “I”—the objective case is required after a preposition.  

    A reason for leaving such an error could be to complete a rime scheme, but that is not the case with this line.  As a matter of fact, by inserting “me” instead of “I,” a partial rime would be achieved: “feet” would become a partial rime with “me.”    Nevertheless, this problem remains a slight one. No meaning is lost despite the grammatical error.   Such errors may interfere with the total enjoyment of a poem.

    However, readers need not become alarmed about them unless they interfere with understanding. Luckily, this error does not confound meaning, and comprehension of the poem remains clear and unobstructed, despite the slight distraction that inaccurate pronoun inflicts.