In addition to poetry, James Weldon Johnson also composed many songs that have become popular. His bluesy poem/song “Sence You Went Away” features a southern dialect and captures the melancholy that surrounds the individual who has lost a loved one.
Introduction and Text “Sence You Went Away”
James Weldon Johnson’s “Sence You Went Away” creates a speaker/singer who bemoans the loss of a loved one. The poem/song consists of four stanzas, each with the rime scheme AAAB, wherein the final line constitutes the refrain in which the speaker reveals the reason for his melancholy.
The repetition of “seems lak to me” and “sence you went away” emphasizes the pain and sorrow the speaker is experiencing. The refrain becomes a chant-like repetition as he progresses through his report of all that is making him sad. And he is addressing his expressions of sorrow to the individual, who is now absent from his life.
As a poem this works quite well, and as a song it works even more nicely. The poem/song’s use of dialect gives it an authenticity that increases the communication of pain and sorrow. The speaker/singer incorporates and inflicts his sorrow on the world around him, while at the same time making it clear that these transformations are happening within himself.
Sence You Went Away
Seems lak to me de stars don’t shine so bright, Seems lak to me de sun done loss his light, Seems lak to me der’s nothin’ goin’ right, Sence you went away.
Seems lak to me de sky ain’t half so blue, Seems lak to me dat eve’ything wants you, Seems lak to me I don’t know what to do, Sence you went away.
Seems lak to me dat eve’ything is wrong, Seems lak to me de day’s jes twice ez long, Seems lak to me de bird’s forgot his song, Sence you went away.
Seems lak to me I jes can’t he’p but sigh, Seems lak to me ma th’oat keeps gittin’ dry, Seems lak to me a tear stays in ma eye, Sence you went away.
Commentary on “Sence You Went Away”
James Weldon Johnson, an accomplished poet, also composed many songs that have become quite popular. His bluesy “Sence You Went Away” features a southern dialect. Johnson was a Southerner, having been born in 1871 and raised in Jacksonville, Florida, only relocating to New York in 1901.
First Stanza: Expressing Sorrow
Seems lak to me de stars don’t shine so bright, Seems lak to me de sun done loss his light, Seems lak to me der’s nothin’ goin’ right, Sence you went away.
The speaker is addressing an individual, who is likely a former lover or very good friend. The speaker expresses his sorrow by reporting that both the sun and stars do not seem to be shedding light now because of the absence of the addressee. The reader/listener learns nothing about the person who has gone away, only that the speaker’s life has been adversely affected by the loved one’s absence.
Not only do the speaker’s eyes seem no longer to perceive light, but he also feels that nothing in his life is proceeding correctly. He makes it clear that he is not asserting that the world itself has changed; he is merely revealing how things “seem” to him as he repeats throughout the poem, “seems lak to me,” that is, “seems like to me.”
Second Stanza: Absence of Sun
Seems lak to me de sky ain’t half so blue, Seems lak to me dat eve’ything wants you, Seems lak to me I don’t know what to do, Sence you went away.
The absence of sun and starlight affect the shade of the blue sky, which is now presenting itself as only “half” its normal shade. Everything reminds him that he is missing his belovèd. It even appears that everything he sees and does yearns to have this individual back in its purview.
The speaker’s intense exaggeration emphasizes his desire for the return of his missing loved one. Everywhere he looks he sees merely an absence that causes him pain and suffering. He even confesses that he feels unable to decide what he should be doing, if anything at all.
Third Stanza: Nothing Is Right
Seems lak to me dat eve’ything is wrong, Seems lak to me de day’s jes twice ez long, Seems lak to me de bird’s forgot his song, Sence you went away.
Again, the speaker/singer asserts that nothing seems right for him anymore; thus, he feels that “ev’ything is wrong.” And he reveals that time seems to lag because of his sorrow. Pain and suffering cause the human mind and heart to feel time as an oppressor, and that kind of oppression makes minutes seem like hours and days like weeks.
Nature in the form of singing birds is lost on him, and he thus suggests that those birds have even forgotten to sings. His melancholy grays out all of his senses, especially seeing and hearing. Life has lost its luster, light has escaped him, and even pleasant sounds are no longer detectable. And still again, he repeats the reason for his feeling that everything is so wrong in his life.
Fourth Stanza: Fog of Sorrow
Seems lak to me I jes can’t he’p but sigh, Seems lak to me ma th’oat keeps gittin’ dry, Seems lak to me a tear stays in ma eye, Sence you went away.
Finally, the speaker reveals his own behavior has been influenced by the sad fact that the addressee has gone away. He cannot seem to stop sighing, and his throat dries up. He also continue to weep, as he endures the pain of loss.
His physical functions are out of kilter: what needs to be wet is dry, and what needs to be dry is wet. The speaker’s world has transformed into a melancholy fog of sorrow and disorientation—all because his belovèd has gone away.
Kris Delmhorst’s Musical Version of Johnson’s Lyric
There are extant several different musical versions of James Weldon Johnson’s lyric “Sence You Went Away.” I suggest that Kris Delmhorst’s rendition fits perfectly with the sentiment and atmosphere of that lyric. While the other versions are entertaining and well-done, Delmhorst’s version and her singing remain the best in accomplishing the task of capturing the exact feeling of Johnson’s lyric.
Kris Delmhorst singing her version of Johnson’s “Sense You Went Away”
Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”
Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” seems simple, but its repeated phrase, “And miles to go before I sleep,” offers room for speculation. Many of Frost’s poems present a tricky element, as he quipped about “The Road Not Taken” being “very tricky.”
Introduction with Text of “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”
The beloved American poet, Robert Frost, wrote many “tricky poems.” Frost has even quipped that his “The Road Not Taken” is a “very tricky poem.” One might wonder if he also thought that many of his other poems are tricky. Chiefly because of the final repeated line, his “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” may also be considered a highly tricky poem.
The main event of the poem remains uncomplicated: a man has paused his trek home and sits by a woodland viewing the scene as the snow is piling up in the woods. And the man’s thoughts as he continues to view the scene and what he expresses as he watches may suggest many questions regarding his thoughts and musings.
The speaker’s audience then must remain curious about the speaker’s reasons for stopping to muse: was it only to watch the snow filling up the woods? Why does he think his stopping is “queer”—a qualification he projected onto his horse? Why does he care if the owner of the woods would see him?
The questions raised are only suggested in the speaker’s report but never answered. Although the poem is very simple and uncomplicated without even the use of a literary device such as metaphor, it encourages much speculation.
Then too, a further puzzlement might be: what seemed to cause him to return to his ordinary consciousness from his trance-like musing on the loveliness of snow piling up in the woods?
Although critics who have interpreted the notion of suicide from the last repeated line can offer nothing concrete for such a bizarre reading, still that repetition may suggest something other than its literal claim. Readers are, of course, free to speculate about the difference in meanings of the repeated line, but at the same time they can still enjoy the simple beauty of the poem.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound’s the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
Reading
Image: “Musing on a Snowy Evening” – Created by ChatGPT – Titled by Linda Sue Grimes
Commentary on “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”
One of his tricky poems, Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” seems simple, but the repetition of its nuanced phrase, “And miles to go before I sleep,” offers room for interpretation.
Stanza 1: The Reason for Stopping
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.
Robert Frost’s simple poem, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening,” offers an uncomplicated scene wherein a man who was riding a horse pauses his ride by the roadside near a wooded area to observe as the snow is falling and piling up in the woods.
The poem is executed without extensive figurative language and literary devices such as metaphor and metonymy. However, the speaker’s claims do herald questions as noted in the introduction.
One is likely to wonder if the speaker would not have stopped if he thought the owner of the land would see him. Because the speaker mentions that fact, the listener cannot help but wonder why.
Stanza 2: The Horse Thinks What the Man Thinks
My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year.
The speaker then reports what he thinks his horse thinks: he claims that his horse must be thinking it an odd thing to be stopping before reaching home, and equally strange that the man would want to stop beside a woodland and lake while it is becoming dark outside.
The speaker suggests that the time of year is around December 22, the shortest day of the year and the beginning of winter in the Northern Hemisphere. That is the reason it is “the darkest evening of the year.”
It is obvious that it is the speaker himself who thinks his behavior is odd, stopping in the cold, dark winter weather to watch snow falling in a woods. That he projects his thoughts onto his “little horse” is, of course, merely a ruse that dramatizes his own actions.
Stanza 3: Soft Breezes and Flaky Snow
He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound’s the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake.
In stanza 3, the speaker reveals that he thinks the horse has deemed this stopping as odd because the horse is shaking his head and rattling his harness. The speaker continues to speculate about what the horse thinks; this time he suggests that his horse thinks he made a “mistake.” Such speculation about the cogitation of a horse actually becomes rather comical.
It has become quite clear that all of the thoughts the speaker has speculated about what the horse thinks is simply what the speaker himself is thinking. He seems to want to suggest that this stopping to watch snow filling up a woods is somehow unseemly or at least “queer”—in the original definition of the term.
The speaker then notices that other than the rattling of the horse’s harness it is utterly quiet with the only sound he hears being the wind gently blowing as the snowflakes whirl around and into the woodland.
Stanza 4: Many Miles to Keep Promises
The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
In stanza 4, the speaker paints the only pictorial details about what he is viewing, as he reports that the woodland is “lovely, dark and deep.” The bulk of the poem simply offers speculation about who might have seen him and what his little horse may be thinking.
Finally, the speaker ends his musing by claiming that he has made promises, and he must keep them. He must still be a fairly great distance from his residence as he claims that he has miles yet to travel before he can “sleep.” Those final three lines, actually, state the reason that the speaker must cease his musing on the beauty and quiet of the woodland and continue on with he journey back home.
But the claim that he “has miles to go before [he] sleep[s]” because it is repeated offers room for interpretation. Perhaps the second repetition has a different meaning from the first, or just perhaps that is the only way to end poem.
The Rime Scheme
It is quite likely that the final repetition has no further meaning from it first iteration. The rime scheme that the poet has crafted simply offers no way out of the poem except to repeat the line: AABA BBCB CCDC DDDD.
Notice that the poet has taken the last word in the third line of the first stanza—”here”—and rimed it with last word in the first—”queer,” second—”near,” and fourth—”year” lines in the second stanza.
He then repeats that scheme until the end of the poem. In theory, he could have continued down through the entire alphabet. With such a connected system of riming, there is no useful, harmonious way to end the poem, except the way he actually did.
Perhaps merely stopping is a option but not as graceful, and too, by the repetition in this particular poem, because of the subject matter, the repetition adds a nuance of meaning, promulgating the suggestion that the first part of the repetition has a different meaning form the second.
Repeated Line Open to Interpretation
By repeating the line, “And miles to go before I sleep,” the speaker has crafted an intriguing curiosity that cannot be mollified by the reader, scholar, critic, or commentarian. The poem offers no support for the idea that the speaker is suggesting he might be thinking about suicide. That interpretive speculation is overly melodramatic.
However, the speaker seems to awaken from a trance-like musing as he watches the snow piling up in the woods, and it does remain unclear what caused him to wake up from that dream-like musing. As laid out in the introduction, the piece does herald questions without providing any concrete answers.
Because these questions are not answered by the speaker of the poem, but also because Robert Frost called his poem, “The Road Not Taken,” “a tricky poem,” readers may possibly speculate that Frost held that his “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” was also a “very tricky poem.”
Ultimately, answers to those questions do not matter. The poem offers a serene scene of a man observing nature and then moving on. The meaningful beauty of the poem, one might argue, is in the lack of details and how a consummate poet can create a stunning, impressive piece of art based on such simplicity.
Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” is often misinterpreted; it does not encourage nonconformity. It dramatizes the difficulty of making choices and then living with the consequences.
Introduction with Text of “The Road Not Taken”
Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” has been one of the most anthologized, analyzed, and quoted poems in American poetry. It has also remained one of the most misunderstood and thus misinterpreted poems in the English language.
Published in 1916 in Robert Frost’s poetry collection titled, Mountain Interval, the poem has since been interpreted primarily as piece that prompts non-conforming behavior, a philosophy of the efficacy of striking out on one’s own, instead of following the herd. Thus the poem is often quoted at commencement ceremonies. However, a close look at the poem reveals a different focus.
Instead of offering a moralizing piece of advice, the poem merely demonstrates how memory often glamorizes past choices despite the fact that the differences between the choices were not so great. It also shows how the mind tends to focus on the choice one had to abandon in favor of the one selected.
Edward Thomas and “The Road Not Taken”
Robert Frost lived in England from 1912 to 1914; he became fast friends with fellow poet Edward Thomas. Frost has explained that “The Road Not Taken” was prompted by Thomas, who would continue to fret over the path the couple could not take as they were out walking in the woods near their village.
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost Reads “The Road Not Taken”
Commentary on “The Road Not Taken”
Robert Frost called “The Road Not Taken” “very tricky.” Some readers have not heeded his advice to be careful with this one. Thus, a misunderstanding brings this poem into places for which it is not suitable, such as graduation ceremonies, wherein the speaker has taken as his theme the efficacy of strong individualism as opposed to herd conformity.
First Stanza: The Decision and the Process of Deciding
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth;
In the first stanza, the speaker reveals that he has been out walking in the woods, and he approaches two diverging pathways; he stops and peers down each path as far as he can. He then avers that he would like to walk down each path, but he is sure he does not have enough time to experience both. He knows he must take one path and leave the other behind, and so he commences his decision making process.
Second Stanza: The Reluctant Choice
Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same,
After scrutinizing both pathways, he decides to start walking down the one that seems “less traveled.” He admits they were “really about the same.” They were, of course, not exactly the same, but in reality there was not much difference between them as far as he could tell from where he stood. Both paths had been “traveled,” but he fancies that he chooses the one because it was a little less traveled than the other.
Notice at this point how the actual choice in the poem seems to deviate from the title. The speaker takes the road less taken, not the one “not taken,” as the title seems to suggest. That fact was, no doubt, part of the trickiness that Frost mentioned as he discussed the genesis of this poem, calling it “very tricky.”
The title also lends to the moralizing interpretation. The path not taken is the one not taken by the speaker—both roads have been taken by others, but the speaker being just one individual could take only one.
Third Stanza: Really More Similar Than Different
And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.
Because the decision making process can be complex and lengthy, the speaker continues to reveal his thinking about the two paths into the third stanza. But again he reports how the paths were really more similar than different.
Fourth Stanza: The Ambiguous Sigh
I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.
In the final stanza, the speaker projects how he will look back on his decision in the distant future. He surmises that he will remember taking a “less traveled” road, and that decision “has made all the difference.”
The problem with interpreting the poem as advice for individualism and non-conformity is that the speaker is only speculating about how his decision will affect his future. He cannot know for certain that his decision was a wise one, because he has not yet lived it.
Even though he predicts that he will think it was a positive choice when he says, it “made all the difference,” a phrase that usually indicates a good difference, in reality, he cannot know for sure.
The use of the word “sigh” is also ambiguous. A sigh can indicate relief or regret——two nearly opposite states of mind. Therefore, whether the sigh comports with a positive difference or negative cannot be known to the speaker at the time he is musing in the poem. He simply has not lived the experience yet.
“Tricky Poem”
Frost referred to this poem as a tricky poem, and he admonished readers “to be careful of that one.” He knew that human memory tends to gloss over past mistakes and glamorize the trivial. He also was aware that a quick, simplistic perusal of the poem could yield an erroneous understanding of it.
The poet also has stated that this poem reflects his friend Edward Thomas’ attitude while out walking in the woods near London, England. Thomas continued to wonder what he might be missing by not being able to walk both paths, thus the title’s emphasis on the road “not taken.”
“Road” as a Symbol for Life’s “Path”
In this commentary, readers may notice that I have used the term “path” instead of road in most the references to that entity in the poem. The poem begins by placing the speaker in a “yellow wood.” Thus, the speaker has encountered two different pathways through the wood because it more likely that a wood has paths (pathways) than roads. Paths are for walking; roads are for vehicle traffic.
Thus, I suggest that the speaker is employing the term “road” as a symbol of one’s pathway through life——not a a literal road in a wood. Even though the speaker had used the term “travel” in the opening lines, he later limits that mode of travel to foot travel when he says, “long I stood” and later, “In leaves no step had trodden black.” He “stood” because he had been walking. And “step had trodden black” refers to the condition of the leaves having been walked upon.
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 Soul selects her own Society”
Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul selects her own Society” portrays the nature of individual self-sufficiency, spiritual power, and the deliberate choice of isolation over social engagement. The result is a positive statement that the strength of the soul remains ascendent, despite a world of chaos.
Introduction and Text of “The Soul selects her own Society”
In only three innovative quatrains, Emily Dickinson’s poem, “The Soul selects her own Society,” reveals the power of the soul’s skill in selecting its companions and rejecting external influences.
This profound theme is one of many that similarly focus on issues of individuality in Dickinson’s 1775 span of poems. The poet grappled with questions of personal autonomy and the inner life by creating speakers who address those inquiries in unique, strong voices.
Emily Dickinson’s themes, poetic techniques, as well as the cultural and philosophical contexts that inform her poems all lend heft to the notion that the poet remained steadfast in her determination to live deliberately and independently.
The claims that Dickinson’s speaker makes about the soul’s choices illuminate this poem’s celebration of individuality, and those claims offer a subtle critique of societal pressures. This important theme can be found in a number of Dickinson’s poems. The poet continued to create speakers who share her love of privacy.
The Soul selects her own Society –
The Soul selects her own Society – Then – shuts the Door – To her divine Majority – Present no more –
Unmoved – she notes the Chariots – pausing – At her low Gate – Unmoved – an Emperor be kneeling Upon her Mat –
I’ve known her – from an ample nation – Choose One – Then – close the Valves of her attention – Like Stone –
Commentary on “The Soul selects her own Society”
Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul selects her own Society” stands as the emblematic poem for not only the poet’s entire oeuvre but also for her life choice of isolation as well. She continued to create speakers, whose voices remain strong and unique. Her elliptical, minimalist expressions demonstrate an economy of language use seldom experienced to such a high degree.
First Stanza: The Soul’s Decision
The Soul selects her own Society – Then – shuts the Door – To her divine Majority – Present no more –
The first stanza establishes the soul’s autonomy and power as the target of the poem. Dickinson’s speaker is personifying the soul as a feminine being, a choice that comports with her frequent portrayal of the self as an introspective consciousness.
The verb “selects” remains essential in distinguishing a deliberate act of choice. Unlike passive acceptance or arbitrary selection, the soul’s decision to choose its “Society” reflects a profound exercise of individual agency and strength.
The capitalization of “Soul” and “Society” ennobles these terms, attesting to spiritual and metaphysical power. “Society” indicates a selected group of companions that the soul deems worthy of its attention.
The second line, “Then – shuts the Door,” introduces an intense metaphor of exclusion. The act of shutting the door symbolizes the rejection of all that lies outside the soul’s chosen circle.
This exclusionary image invokes both physical and psychological barriers, making clear that the soul’s decision is not merely a preference but instead remains a absolute act of isolation.
The door, a boundary between the inner and outer worlds, becomes an instrument of both inclusion and exclusion, emphasizing the soul’s desire for control over its environment.
The phrase “divine Majority” in the third line refers to a spiritual unity, such as a divine assembly representing the will of a Higher Power, and the soul accepts that “Majority” and its divinity as evidence of its own affirmative judgment.
The “divine Majority” also includes tangentially certain members of the broader societal collective–family and friends–on the earth plane, implying that the soul dismisses the opinions or expectations of the masses but accepts willingly and graciously all those who understand and respect the choices of the speaker.
The adjective “divine” imbues this majority with a sacred quality that it must possess, if the speaker is to sanction it. The final line, “Present no more,” reinforces the irrevocability of this decision. The soul’s chosen society is now its sole focus, and all others are rendered absent, both physically and metaphysically.
Interestingly, the word “present” can be interpreted as either an adjective or a verb, but either interpretation results in the same meaning of the phrase in this context. As a verb, it is a command, “Offer no more suggestions for my perusal.” As an adjective, the speaker is making the simple statement that other than her chosen “divine Majority,” no further admittance is allowed; her group remains complete.
Dickinson’s use of her liberal spray of dashes throughout the stanza creates a spacing rhythm, mirroring the deliberate and measured nature of the soul’s actions. These pauses invite readers or listeners to linger on each phrase, reflecting the weight of the soul’s choices.
The stanza’s brevity and syntactic compression further enhance its impact, distilling complex ideas into a few carefully chosen words. By framing the soul’s selection as both an act of inclusion and exclusion, the speaker has set the stage for the poem’s expression of individualism and its consequences.
Second Stanza: Resisting External Influence
Unmoved – she notes the Chariots – pausing – At her low Gate – Unmoved – an Emperor be kneeling Upon her Mat –
The second stanza shifts its focus from it affirmative declaration to the soul’s unwavering stance in the face of external temptations, reinforcing the theme of absolute individual sovereignty.
The repetition of “Unmoved” at the beginning of the first and third lines serves as a rhetorical anchor, emphasizing the soul’s emotional detachment and unchanging resolve.
This word choice suggests not only indifference but also a deliberate refusal to be swayed by external grandeur or authority. The soul’s ability to remain “unmoved” underscores its inner strength, positioning it as a self-sustaining entity invulnerable to worldly, earthly allure.
The imagery of “Chariots – pausing – / At her low Gate” heralds a scene of pomp and power, seeking entry. Chariots, often associated with military might or royal processions, symbolize societal prestige and influence.
This chariots pausing at the soul’s “low Gate” creates a striking contrast between the grandeur of the material world-at-large and the humility of the soul’s inner mystical domain.
The adjective “low” suggests simplicity and humility—qualities that perfectly align with Dickinson’s speakers’ recurring portrayal of the self as unpretentious yet profoundly self-aware. The gate, like the door in the first stanza, functions as a boundary, reinforcing the soul’s control over who may enter its realm.
The second image of “an Emperor be kneeling / Upon her Mat” magnifies this contrast. The emperor, a figure of supreme authority, is portrayed in a position of supplication—”kneeling” on the soul’s humble mat.
This inversion of power dynamics is astonishing: the soul—humble, modest, and tranquil—commands the respect of even the most powerful figures. The mat, a simple household item, further emphasizes the soul’s unassuming nature, yet its presence in this context elevates it to a symbol of the soul’s complete sovereignty.
The emperor’s kneeling suggests not only deference but also a recognition of the soul’s authority, which transcends all worldly hierarchies. Dickinson’s traditional, abundant splash of dashes in this stanza furthers the pauses, mirroring the soul’s contemplative resistance. Each dash invites the reader to pause and consider the significance of the soul’s indifference to such potent symbols of power.
The stanza’s structure, with its parallel clauses beginning with “Unmoved,” reinforces the soul’s consistency and resolve. By juxtaposing the soul’s simplicity with the grandeur of chariots and emperors, the speaker celebrates the power of inner conviction over external splendor, a theme that resonates with the Dickinsonian broader critique of societal conformity.
Third Stanza: The Final Choice
I’ve known her – from an ample nation – Choose One – Then – close the Valves of her attention – Like Stone –
The third stanza shifts to a personal perspective, as the speaker reveals intimate knowledge of the soul’s behavior with the phrase “I’ve known her.” This shift to the first person opens up her deep familiarity, confirming the speaker’s own experience as one who often chooses solitude over societal engagement.
The phrase “from an ample nation” implies a vast array of potential companions, whether individuals, ideas, or influences. The word “ample” denotes abundance, yet the soul’s choice is singular and exclusive, as it selects only “One.” This act of choosing remains both deliberate as well as reductive, narrowing the soul’s focus to a single entity or ideal.
The metaphor of closing “the Valves of her attention” is particularly salient. The term “Valves” introduces a mechanical image, indicating a controlled and deliberate mechanism for regulating attention. Unlike the organic imagery of doors or gates, valves imply precision and finality, as if the soul is sealing off its consciousness with mechanical efficacy.
The simile, “Like Stone,” further emphasizes this irrevocability, vouchsafing an unyielding, determined state. Stone is nearly immutable and enduring, indicating that the soul’s decision is permanent and secure against change. This image also carries a sense of weight and stillness, contrasting with the dynamic imagery of chariots and emperors in the previous stanza.
The stanza’s brevity enhances its impact, as each line dramatically builds toward the final, evocative image of stone. The dashes keep their rhythm punctuating the lines, creating the important pauses that reflect the gravity of the soul’s withdrawal.
By framing the soul’s choice as selective—inclusive as well as exclusive—the speaker emphasizes the result of such individual autonomy: the soul expresses its sovereignty, and the less important connection with the broader world is exposed and laid to rest.
A Resolute Act of Agency
Emily Dickinson’s “The Soul selects her own Society” is a masterful exploration of individuality, autonomy, and the consequences of deliberate isolation. Through its three quatrains, the poem traces the soul’s journey from selection to rejection to final withdrawal, each stage completed by a resolute act of agency.
The first stanza establishes the soul’s sovereignty through its careful selection of companions, while the second illustrates its resistance to external temptations, and the third underscores the finality of its withdrawal.
Dickinson’s use of vivid imagery–doors, gates, chariots, emperors, valves, and stone–creates a rich tapestry of meaning, inviting readers to contemplate the power and cost of personal choice. The poem’s formal elements, including its concise structure, halting rhythm, and strategic use of dashes, enhance its thematic depth.
The dashes, in particular, serve as a stylistic hallmark, creating pauses that mirror the soul’s contemplative resolve and invite readers to engage with the text on a deeper level.
The capitalization of key terms, such as “Soul,” “Society,” and “Majority,” imbues them with metaphysical significance, elevating the poem’s exploration of individuality to a universal plane.
Contextually, the poem reflects Dickinson’s own life as a poet who chose solitude over societal engagement. Living in Amherst, Massachusetts, Dickinson maintained a reclusive lifestyle, corresponding with a select few while withdrawing from public life. This personal context informs the poem’s celebration of inner conviction, as well as its acknowledgment of the isolation that such conviction entails.
Philosophically, the poem aligns with transcendentalist ideas of self-reliance, as espoused by contemporaries like Ralph Waldo Emerson, though Dickinson’s perspective is more introspective and less optimistic about the individual’s connection to the broader world.
Ultimately, “The Soul selects her own Society” is a testament to Dickinson’s ability to distill complex ideas into concise, evocative verse. The poem invites readers to reflect on the nature of choice, the value of autonomy, and the delicate balance between connection and solitude.
By portraying the soul as a sovereign entity capable of shaping its own destiny, Dickinson’s speaker has affirmed the power of individuality while acknowledging the profound solitude that accompanies such freedom.
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 “There’s been a Death, in the Opposite House”
Emily Dickinson’s “There’s been a Death, in the Opposite House” features a glimpse at the skill of this poet as she speaks through a created character—an adult male looking back at the daunting experience of becoming aware that a neighbor had died.
Introduction with Text of “There’s been a Death, in the Opposite House”
The following version of Emily Dickinson’s “There’s been a Death, in the Opposite House” in Thomas Johnson’s The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson displays the poem as the poet wrote it.
Some editors have tinkered with Dickinson’s texts over the years to make her poems look more “normal,” i.e., without so many dashes, capitalizations, and seemingly odd spacing, and in this poem, they convert the fifth stanza into a perfect quatrain.
Dickinson’s poems, however, actually depend on her odd form to express her exact meaning. Editors who tinker with her oddities fritter away the poet’s actual achievement.
There’s been a Death, in the Opposite House
There’s been a Death, in the Opposite House, As lately as Today – I know it, by the numb look Such Houses have – alway –
The Neighbors rustle in and out – The Doctor – drives away – A Window opens like a Pod – Abrupt – mechanically –
Somebody flings a Mattress out – The Children hurry by – They wonder if it died – on that – I used to – when a Boy –
The Minister – goes stiffly in – As if the House were His – And He owned all the Mourners – now – And little Boys – besides –
And then the Milliner – and the Man Of the Appalling Trade – To take the measure of the House –
There’ll be that Dark Parade –
Of Tassels – and of Coaches – soon – It’s easy as a Sign – The Intuition of the News – In just a Country Town –
Reading
Commentary on “There’s been a Death, in the Opposite House”
This poem offers much food for thought: Dickinson’s use of a male character and the perfidy of editors who regularize her text, as well as the events depicted in the narrative.
Stanza 1: The House Speaks of Death
There’s been a Death, in the Opposite House, As lately as Today – I know it, by the numb look Such Houses have – alway –
The speaker announces that he can tell that a death has occurred in the house just across the street from where he lives. He then explains that he can tell by the “numb look” the house has, and he intuits that the death has taken place quite recently.
Note that I have designated that the speaker is male as I call him “he.” In stanza 3, it will be revealed that the speaker is indeed an adult male, who mentions what he wondered about “when a Boy.” Thus it becomes apparent that Dickinson is speaking through a character she has created specifically for this little drama.
Stanza 2: The Comings and Goings
The Neighbors rustle in and out – The Doctor – drives away – A Window opens like a Pod – Abrupt – mechanically –
The speaker then continues to describe the scene he has observed which offers further evidence that a death has recently occurred in that opposite house. He sees neighbors coming and going. He sees a physician leave the house, and then suddenly someone opens a window, and the speaker claims that the person abruptly “mechanically” opens the window.
Stanza 3: The Death Bed
Somebody flings a Mattress out – The Children hurry by – They wonder if it died – on that – I used to – when a Boy –
The speaker then sees why the window was opened: someone then throws out a mattress. Then gruesomely he adds that it is likely that the person died on that mattress, and the children who are scurrying past the house likely wonder if that is why the mattress was tossed out. The speaker then reveals that he used to wonder that same thing when he was a boy.
Stanza 4: The Mourners Are Owned by Clergy
The Minister – goes stiffly in – As if the House were His – And He owned all the Mourners – now – And little Boys – besides –
Continuing to describe the macabre events occurring across the street, the speaker then reports seeing “the Minister” enter the house. It seems to the speaker that the minister behaves as if he must take possession of everything even “the Mourners”—and the speaker adds that the minister also owns the “little Boys” as well.
Stanza 5: That Eerie Funeral Procession
And then the Milliner – and the Man Of the Appalling Trade – To take the measure of the House –
There’ll be that Dark Parade –
The speaker then reports that the milliner, who will dress the body, has arrived. Then finally the mortician, who will measure both the corpse and the house for the coffin. The speaker finds the mortician’s “Trade” to be “Appalling.”
The line “There’ll be that Dark Parade –” is separated from the first three lines of the stanza. This placement adds a nuance of meaning as it imitates what will happen: the funeral procession, “Dark Parade,” will separate from the house. And the line departing from the rest of the stanza demonstrates that action quite concretely and literally. (More on this below in “Regularizing Emily Dickinson’s Text”)
Stanza 6:Intuition Spells News
Of Tassels – and of Coaches – soon – It’s easy as a Sign – The Intuition of the News – In just a Country Town –
The speaker then finishes his description of the “Dark Parade” with its “Tassels” and “Coaches” and finally concludes by remarking how easy it is to spot a house whose residents have become mourners. All those people and events elaborated by the speaker add up to “Intuition of the News” in the simple “Country Town.”
The Created Character
The poet has offered a genuine depiction of what is occurring in present time as well as what occurred in the past. And she is doing so using the character of an adult male who is looking back to his memories of seeing such a sight as a child.
The authenticity of a woman speaking though a male voice demonstrates the mystic as well as poetic skill of this poet to put herself in the persona of the opposite sex in order to create a dramatic event. Poets, however, need not be mystically inclined to achieve this level of authenticity, but certainly not all poets can pull off such a feat.
For example, Langston Hughes created a mixed race character in his poem “Cross” and spoke in first person, but his depiction remains questionable as he assigned feelings to a person not of his own ethnicity based solely on stereotypes.
Dickinson’s character is offering insights into an event that are not limited to the observations of one sex; a little girl could make those same observations. Dickinson’s reason for creating a male character to report this event remains unknown, but it is likely she simply felt a more compelling drama could be achieved if her character were a little boy.
Regularizing Emily Dickinson’s Text
One of the many arguments over the reclusive 19th century American poet, Emily Dickinson, includes the one directed at editors who regularize Dickinson’s idiosyncratic style—her many dashes, her seemingly haphazard capitalization, and her sometimes irregular use of spacing.
One can sympathize with those editors who wish to make Emily Dickinson’s poems more palatable for readers, but now and then one can find instances in which the editor’s regularization has limited the poet’s meaning. That limitation occurs in this poem, “There has been a Death, in the Opposite House.”
Poetry textbook editors Louis Simpson (Introduction to Poetry) and Robert N. Linscott (Selected Poems and Letters of Emily Dickinson) alter the text of this Dickinson’s poem in a way that weakens the total impact of the poem.
The widely noted textbook editor Laurence Perrine employed that altered form until the ninth edition of his Sound and Sense: An Introduction to Poetry, when he changed it to reflect Dickinson’s meaning more accurately, after reading my explication of the poem in The Explicator.
(Thomas Arp, Perrine’s coeditor, related to me that that change was Perrine’s last editorial decision before turning over the editorship to Arp.)
Limiting Meaning
That slight alteration is the omission of the empty line separating the last line of the fifth stanza from the preceding three. That omission regularizes the stanza, resulting in a poem of six four-line stanzas. Closing up stanza five gives the poem a uniform appearance but limits Dickinson’s meaning.
Considering the meaning of the line that Dickinson separated from the rest of the stanza, I suggest that she had a specific reason for the separation. The line “There’ll be that Dark Parade” indicates that a funeral procession will soon be seen.
The lines preceding this one state that various persons who serve the dead will be appearing, including the “Man / Of the Appalling Trade – / To take the measure of the House.”
The funeral procession “that Dark Parade” will occur after the measurement of the house and will literally separate itself from the house; and Dickinson, to show this progression concretely, separated the line from the rest of the stanza, whose last word is “House.” By regularizing Dickinson’s stanza, the editors make her poem look neater, but they eliminate the special nuance of meaning that Dickinson achieved in her original.
In Thomas H. Johnson’s The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, the line is not attached to the previous three, as shown above in the text of the poem. Johnson restored Dickinson’s poems to their original forms, without intrusions that would change meaning.
He did make quiet changes in spelling such as “visiter” to “visitor” and repositioned misplaced apostrophes such as “does’nt” to “doesn’t.” Dickinson’s own handwritten version of the poem can be seen in R. W. Franklin’s The Manuscript Books of Emily Dickinson or on theEmily Dickinson Archive site that clearly shows the poet’s intension that the line be separated from the rest of the stanza.
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 feet of people walking home”
In a uniquely dramatic way, Dickinson’s speaker reveals the simple truth that people are happier when they are on their way home.
Introduction with Text of “The feet of people walking home”
Emily Dickinson’s “The feet of people walking home” plays out its little drama in three octaves or eight-line stanzas. Instead of the literal meaning of the word, “home,” this poem employs the figurative meaning as in the old hymn lyric “This World Is Not My Home.” This Dickinson poem features highly symbolic imagery, while at times seeming to point to things of this physical world.
Every image works in service of supporting the claim that each human soul wears “gayer sandals” as it strides toward its permanent “home” in the abode of the Divine Creator. Again, the Dickinsonian mysticism provides the poet’s speaker with an abundance of mystic meaning garnered from that “Bird” of hers that ventures out and returns with new melodies.
The feet of people walking home
The feet of people walking home With gayer sandals go – The Crocus – till she rises The Vassal of the snow – The lips at Hallelujah Long years of practise bore Till bye and bye these Bargemen Walked singing on the shore.
Pearls are the Diver’s farthings Extorted from the Sea – Pinions – the Seraph’s wagon Pedestrian once – as we – Night is the morning’s Canvas Larceny – legacy – Death, but our rapt attention To Immortality.
My figures fail to tell me How far the Village lies – Whose peasants are the angels – Whose Cantons dot the skies – My Classics vail their faces – My faith that Dark adores – Which from its solemn abbeys Such resurrection pours.
Reading:
Commentary on “The feet of people walking home”
In a uniquely dramatic way, Dickinson’s speaker reveals the simple truth that people are happier when they are on their way home–especially as they are making progress toward their Divine Abode.
First Stanza: Happier on the Way Home
The feet of people walking home With gayer sandals go – The Crocus – till she rises The Vassal of the snow – The lips at Hallelujah Long years of practise bore Till bye and bye these Bargemen Walked singing on the shore.
A paraphrase of the first two lines of Dickinson’s “The feet of people walking home” might be: People are happier when they are on their way back to the abode of the Divine Creator. The physical earthly place called “home” serves as a metaphor for Heaven or the Divine Place where the belovèd Lord resides.
That “Divine Place” is ineffable, and therefore has no earthly counterpart, but for most human beings and especially for Emily Dickinson, home is the nearest thing on earth, that is, in this world to the spiritual level of being known as “Heaven.” So according to this speaker even the shoes of people who are on their way “home” are “gayer,” happier, more peaceful, filled with delight.
The speaker then begins to offer support for her claim: the flower exemplified by the “Crocus” is restrained by the “snow” until it pushes up through the ground and displays it marvelous colors. Similarly, the human soul remains restrained by maya delusion until it pushes up through the dirt of this world to reveal its true colors in God.
Those who have practiced meditating on the name of the Divine for many years ultimately find themselves walking and “singing on the shore” like “Bargemen,” who have come ashore after a long haul of work.
Second Stanza: The Value of Commodities
Pearls are the Diver’s farthings Extorted from the Sea – Pinions – the Seraph’s wagon Pedestrian once – as we – Night is the morning’s Canvas Larceny – legacy – Death, but our rapt attention To Immortality.
Further examples of those who are going “home” are divers for pearls who are able to “extort” those valuable commodities “from the sea.” Again, highly symbolic is the act of diving for pearls. The meditating devotee is diving for the pearls of love and wisdom that only the Blessed Creator provides his striving children.
This image is comparable to the line in the chant by Paramahansa Yogananda “Today My Mind Has Dived”: “Today my mind has dived deep in Thee / for Thy pearls of love from my depthless sea.”
The metaphoric diving for pearls enlivens and strengthens the message regarding the spiritual seeker’s search for God’s wisdom and love. In both discourses, the “sea” serves as a metaphor for the Divine.
The “Seraph” before getting his wings once was confined to walking, not riding in a wagon. His wings or pinions now serve him as a useful vehicle to alleviate his need to take the shoe-leather express. “Night” serves the “morning” as a “canvas” on which can be painted taking and giving.
If in dreams, the poet can see herself as a channel for providing mystic truths, she will be leaving a “legacy,” but if she has envisioned only selfish wish fulfillment, she will be committing “larceny.”
Therefore, as night serves morning, morning serves the soul as it allows expression to blossom. “Death” is not the end of life, not the life of the soul, because the soul is immortal; therefore, the only purpose for death is to focus the human being’s mind on the ultimate fact of “Immortality.” Without the duality of death vs immortality, the latter could not be grasped in the physical world on the material plane.
Third Stanza: Ultimate Home in Heaven
My figures fail to tell me How far the Village lies – Whose peasants are the angels – Whose Cantons dot the skies – My Classics vail their faces – My faith that Dark adores – Which from its solemn abbeys Such resurrection pours.
The speaker now admits that she has no idea how far away the “Village” is, that is, how far or how long it will take to reach her Ultimate Home in Heaven. But she then makes sure that her audience knows that she is indeed referring to Heaven when she asserts that Heaven’s “peasants are the angels.”
The souls that have already entered that Kingdom of Ineffable Reality have joined the angels. The speaker then refers to the stars calling them “Cantons” that “dot the skies.” The speaker is implying that the “Village” she speaks of is full of light, and the only earthly comparison is the stars in the sky. The speaker reports that her old, established expressions have hidden themselves, as her faith remains cloistered and “solemn.”
But from those “abbeys” of her faith, she senses that the “resurrection” of her soul is certain, as the pouring out of sunshine from a dark cloud that divides to reveal those marvelous, warm rays.
Dickinson’s Grammar/Spelling Errors
Some of Dickinson’s poems contain grammatical and/or spelling errors; for example, in “The feet of people walking home” in line 6,”Long years of practise bore,” she employs the British spelling—a verb form—instead of the noun form “practice,” which is actually required in this phrase.
Interestingly, while American English currently uses “practice” for both noun and verb, the British forms use “practice” to function as a noun and “practise” as a verb. It remains unclear why editor Thomas H. Johnson did not quietly correct that error, because he reports in the introduction to his The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson,
I have silently corrected obvious misspelling (witheld, visiter, etc), and misplaced apostrophes (does’nt).
However, those errors do tend to give her work a human flavor that perfection would not have rendered.
The Metaphor of Divinity
The impossibility of expressing the ineffable has scooped up poets of all ages. The poet who intuits that only the Divine exists and that all Creation is simply a plethora of manifestations emanating from that Ultimate Reality has always been motivated to express that intuition.
But putting into words that which is beyond words remains a daunting task. Because Dickinson was blessed with a mystic’s vision, she was able to express metaphorically her intuition that the soul of the human being is immortal, even though her sometimes awkward expressions seem to lurch forward in fits and starts. But many of her best efforts feature the divine drama, which she often plays out in her poems.
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 Bird came down the Walk”
Emily Dickinson’s “A Bird came down the Walk” using clever plays on words offers a keen observation, reminding listeners and readers of images which they can likely recognize.
Introduction with Text of “A Bird came down the Walk”
Emily Dickinson’s “A Bird came down the Walk” is one of the poet’s many fun poems loaded with clever word plays—a technique that creates a drama based on keen observation.
The little drama functions to remind readers and listeners of images stored in memory and scenes that they have also experienced in their lifetimes. In other words, the little fun poem is performing the primary function of any genuine poem. This Dickinson poem (#328 in Thomas H. Johnson’s Complete Poems) is one of the poet’s most anthologized poems.
The poem displays in five quatrains, employing a loose rime scheme in which the second and fourth lines sound out in either perfect (saw-raw) or slant (around-Head) rimes. Thomas H. Johnson’s Complete Poems offers the version that most closely represents the Dickinson manuscript, in which the line is “That hurried all around.”
Some editors have tried to improve or correct the poet’s rime scheme by changing “around” to “abroad.” The notion is that “abroad” is a better rime with “head” than “around.” But, as is nearly always the case, the poet’s subtle meanings are lost with these unfortunate editorial “corrections.”
For example, “abroad” suggests a much farther distance than “around.” The bird simply moved its head in such a way as to glimpse its immediate surroundings. The bird did not attempt to look searching into areas as far from it as in another country, as the term “abroad” suggests.
A Bird came down the Walk
A Bird came down the Walk – He did not know I saw – He bit an Angleworm in halves And ate the fellow, raw,
And then he drank a Dew From a convenient Grass – And then hopped sidewise to the Wall To let a Beetle pass –
He glanced with rapid eyes That hurried all around – They looked like frightened Beads, I thought – He stirred his Velvet Head
Like one in danger, Cautious, I offered him a Crumb And he unrolled his feathers And rowed him softer home –
Than Oars divide the Ocean, Too silver for a seam – Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon Leap, plashless as they swim.
Reading
Commentary on “A Bird came down the Walk”
Emily Dickinson’s poem “A Bird came down the Walk” is one of the poet’s many fun poems filled with entertaining plays on words. The little drama originates from the poet’s keen observation, and it functions as do all genuine poems to engage the reader’s own lived experience.
First Quatrain: Human Eyes Observe a Bird
A Bird came down the Walk – He did not know I saw – He bit an Angleworm in halves And ate the fellow, raw,
In the first quatrain, the speaker states simply that “A Bird came down the Walk.” Then she reports what happened next after assuring her audience that the bird remained unaware that it was being closely observed by a pair of inquisitive human eyes.
The bird grasps a worm, clips the worm in two pieces, and then swallows the unlucky creature. The bird does not bother to cook the worm—just gobbles it up “raw.” Dickinson seems to enjoy inserting some fun into her poems, and this one put on displays her sense of hilarity.
Second Quatrain: Clever and Playful Use of Terms
And then he drank a Dew From a convenient Grass – And then hopped sidewise to the Wall To let a Beetle pass –
The speaker then continues to report to her audience what she sees next: the bird sips some water from a blade of grass and then jumps out of the way so a beetle could crawl by. The poet must have enjoyed the cleverness of saying that the bird “drank a Dew / From a convenient Grass.”
The term “grass” clearly will remind the reader of the term “glass” from which the human beings are accustomed to drinking. While having the bird take a sip of the dew off a piece of grass is perfectly natural, it is equally convenient that the words so seemingly accidentally align with human experience.
After imbibing his sip of dew, the polite avian steps aside allowing another creature of nature to continue on with his journey. The speaker is portraying little acts of civility a she describes the antics of nature which she has so keenly observed.
Third Quatrain: Fidgeting, Frightened Eyes
He glanced with rapid eyes That hurried all around – They looked like frightened Beads, I thought – He stirred his Velvet Head
The speaker then reports the details regarding the eyes of the bird. This report seems to suggest the speaker was quite close to the bird. She was able to detect that his eyes moved quickly as they glimpsed “all around.” She also noticed that they resembled “frightened Beads.”
The absurdity of beads having the sensibility to become frightened simply strikes the consciousness as an appropriate use of exaggeration. No one would be confused and think that the speaker actually believes beads can experience emotion—especially since the speaker employs a simile and then inserts the claim “I thought.”
Also, it is likely that somewhere in the reader’s memory is the same sight—having seen a bird’s rapid eye movement. Thus, in this poem, the poet’s dramatic re-creation gives the reader back that image stored in memory. The observation, the image, the memory, and the experience all coming to support the fact that the claim is absolutely accurate.
It is, in fact, a perfectly accurate observation: those little black avian eyes “looked like frightened Beads.” And then the bird’s head begins to move: “He stirred his Velvet Head.”
Fourth Quatrain: Fear of Feeding
Like one in danger, Cautious, I offered him a Crumb And he unrolled his feathers And rowed him softer home –
The speaker understands exactly why the bird seemed suddenly to experience frightened eyes. And the bird begins to move his head because he has become fearful that the speaker has approached so close to the bird—close enough to attempt to bestow on him a morsel of food. The speaker says she offered him “a Crumb.”
Immediately after she offers him a bit of food, he does not stick around to accept that crumb—he flies off. The speaker then dramatizes that avian exit: “he unrolled his feathers / And rowed him softer home.”
Fifth Quatrain: Seamless Rowing
Than Oars divide the Ocean, Too silver for a seam – Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon Leap, plashless as they swim.
In the final quatrain, the speaker fashions her vitally important re-creation of the velvety smoothness of the bird’s flight. At the end of the fourth quatrain, the speaker had begun a comparison, stating that “he rowed him softer home.
She then continues and concludes that comparison in the first line of the final quatrain with “Than oars divide the Ocean.” The bird’s flight through the air remains invisible, as one does not see the air parting as the bird’s wings cut through it.
Thus, the bird flight is much softer in sight and sound than when one rows a boat through water using oars. The bird’s “rowing” was “Too silver for a seam.” And not only was it softer and seamless compared to rowing a boat on water, the bird’s flight was even smoother than the flight of butterflies jumping into the rivers of “Noon” swimming and splashing about.
The line “off Banks of Noon” likely encouraged another smile of satisfaction to poet’s face as she swam around in her own drama of cleverness. After all, she had created those immortal images that will reawaken the dormant memories in readers and listeners years and years hence.
Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – This daguerrotype circa 1847 at age 17 is likely the only authentic, extant image of the poet.
Emily Dickinson’s “It did not surprise me”
In Emily Dickinson’s “It did not surprise me,” the speaker has created a bird metaphor as she begins to muse on the unlikely event that she may lose her intuitive ability to perceive beyond sense awareness.
Introduction with Text of “It did not surprise me”
With a similar motivational purpose of her riddle-poem “I have a Bird in spring,” Emily Dickinson’s speaker in “It did not surprise me” employs a bird metaphor to contemplate the notion that her special intuitive ability to perceive events, ideas, and entities beyond sense awareness might abandon her.
The bird metaphor remains a useful poetic device for Emily Dickinson‘s speakers as they bestow flight on their ability to create poetic dramas. Also, similar to her riddle-poem “I have a Bird in spring” in this little drama, the speaker is unveiling the metaphorical bird as a mystical muse, as the speaker ruminates on the idea that if that little birdling were to fly away from her, she would become heartbroken.
However, unlike the riddle aspect in “I have a Bird in spring,” the poet allows her speaker to report first as if she is merely describing a literal bird. The speaker then moves into a questioning format which shines a light on the possibility that her muse might just up and fly off as any real bird might do.
The speaker is obliged, however, to leave the issue without answering it, because she will keep that question as long as she continues in her mission of poetry creation. Ultimately, no creative artist can ever know in advance, if or when inspiration will vanish and possibly never return.
Despite temporary flights into the clairvoyance of certain noumena, as long as the poet remains earth bound, she remains dependent to a certain extent on ordinary sense awareness.
It did not surprise me
It did not surprise me – So I said – or thought – She will stir her pinions And the nest forgot,
Traverse broader forests – Build in gayer boughs, Breathe in Ear more modern God’s old fashioned vows –
This was but a Birdling – What and if it be One within my bosom Had departed me?
This was but a story – What and if indeed There were just such coffin In the heart instead?
Reading of “It did not surprise me”
Commentary on “It did not surprise me”
Dickinson’s speaker metaphorically likens her muse—which she knows is bound to her mystical insight—to a bird, as she contemplates the possibility of losing the blessing provided by her innate, God-given talent and mystical ability.
First Stanza: A Thought Awakening
It did not surprise me – So I said – or thought – She will stir her pinions And the nest forgot,
The speaker begins her soliloquy by admitting that her lack of “surprise” at some event has been prompted by the thought of a bird stirring and flying off from its nest. Between her opening statement and the bird’s first movement, the speaker asserts that upon realizing her lack of surprise, she spoke out but then changed her claim to the fact that she merely thought about the coming event without actually giving it voice.
The final two lines of the stanza express the possibility of an activity as she states that this particular bird will start fluttering its wings, readying itself for flight and then fly off from its nest. Such an avian forsaking its nest will then likely not even recall that it had ever stayed there.
That status is simply the essential nature of natural creatures, as well as specific metaphorical birds that may be likened to the muse. If this style of muse abandons its target permanently, it will likely not recall that it had ever inspired any such soul.
Interestingly, Dickinson has her speaker employ the past tense “forgot” but clearly the actual meaning is present tense “forget.” She possibly employed the past tense because it stands in as a closer rime to “thought.”
However, a different interpretation of the meaning may call for the term “forgot” to be understood as the shortened form of the past participle, as in the nest will be “forgotten.” Through her widespread employment of minimalism and ellipsis, the poet has her speaker leave out “nest will be,” requiring the phrase to be understood and, therefore, supplied by the reader’s mind.
Second Stanza: Ranging to New Territories
Traverse broader forests – Build in gayer boughs, Breathe in Ear more modern God’s old fashioned vows –
After rousing its pinions and flying from its nest, this bird will roam in new territories or through “broader forests.” It may reconstruct a new nest in a place deemed happier for its circumstances, that is, “gayer boughs.” The bird will listen to fresh sounds, as it enjoys the many blessings of its Divine Creator, Who has promised to guard and guide all of His creatures.
At this point, the bird has taken on only a few metaphorical qualities. The message could thus be that of merely dramatizing what any young bird might do, after awakening to the marvelous reality of possessing the delicious ability to fly and range wide from its original location.
Third Stanza: Bird in the Heart
This was but a Birdling – What and if it be One within my bosom Had departed me?
The speaker now admits that the little flying creature she has been describing was, in actuality, a simple little bird, or “Birdling.” But then she changes her focus to the “One” that lives in her heart, asking the basic question—what if my little bird-muse leaves me?
In her poem “I have a Bird in spring,” the poet also had her speaker describe her mystical muse as a bird. That poem also plays out as one of her numerous riddle-poems, as she seems to be describing some impossible entity that can fly from her but then return to her and bring her gifts from beyond the sea.
That special metaphorical bird has the power to calm her in times of stress. Similar to “I have a Bird in spring,” which is one of her most profound poems, this one, “It did not surprise me,” remains on the exact same consistent plane of mystical perception.
Unquestionably, the natural creature known as a “bird” as a metaphorical vehicle for the soul (muse or mystically creative spirit) remains quite appropriate, as poet Paul Laurence Dunbar has also demonstrated in his classic masterpiece “Sympathy.”
Fourth Stanza: A Intriguing Inquiry
This was but a story – What and if indeed There were just such coffin In the heart instead?
The speaker offers another admission that up to this point she has been merely speculating about her bird/muse flying off from its nest in her heart/mind/soul. She crafts another inquiry, repeating the curious phrase “[w]hat and if” before her question.
This poignant question employs the term “coffin” indicating the drastic and deadly situation that would exist in her mind/heart/soul, if her bird/muse did actually fly off from her to explore more extensive forests and build nests on more joyful boughs. The speaker affirms her belief that such a loss to her heart and mind would materialize that “coffin,” if such an event ever transpired.
Image: Emily Dickinson This daguerrotype, circa 1847 at age 17, is likely the only authentic, extant image of the poet.
Emily Dickinson’s “Because I could not stop for Death”
Emily Dickinson’s mystical drama features a carriage driver who appears to be a gentleman caller. The speaker abandons both her work and leisure in order to accompany the kind gentleman on a carriage ride. Dickinson’s mystical tendencies are on pull display in this poem.
Introduction with Text of “Because I could not stop for Death”
Emily Dickinson’s mystical drama “Because I could not stop for Death” plays out with a carriage driver who appears to be a gentleman calling on a lady for an evening outing. The speaker leaves off her work as well as her leisure activities in order to accompany the gentleman on the carriage ride to their unspecified festivities.
Certain childhood memories occasionally spur poets to compose verse that is thus influenced by such musing on past memories. Examples of such nostalgic daydreaming include Dylan Thomas’ “Fern Hill,” Theodore Roethke’s “My Papa’s Waltz,” and a nearly perfect American-Innovative sonnet by Robert Hayden “Those Winter Sundays.”
In Emily Dickinson’s “Because I could not stop for Death,” the speaker is also gazing back into her past, but this occasion is a much more momentous musing than merely an ordinary childhood recollection. The speaker in this memory poem is recalling the day she died.
The speaker frames the occasion as a metaphoric carriage ride with Death as the gentleman caller. This speaker is peering intuitively into the plane of existence well beyond that of the earth and into the eternal, spiritual level of being.
Interestingly, the procession that the carriage ride follows seems to be echoing the concept that in the process of leaving the physical body at death, the mental faculty encased in the soul, experiences past scenes from its current existence.
Examples of such past-experienced scenes include the riding by a school and observing that the children were playing at recess; then, they drive by a field of grain and observe the sunset. These are scenes that the speaker has undoubtedly experienced during her current incarnational lifetime.
Because I could not stop for Death
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 – ’tis centuries – and yet Feels shorter than the Day I first surmised the Horses’ Heads Were toward Eternity –
Reading of “Because I could not stop for Death”
Commentary on “Because I could not stop for Death”
The speaker avers that she had no inclination to stop what she was doing for the sake of “Death.” Nevertheless, Death—as a kindly carriage driver, appearing to be a gentleman caller—was polite enough to invite her to join him on an outing.
Because of this kind gentleman’s polite demeanor, the speaker gladly leaves off both her ordinary, daily work plus her free time hours in order to accompany the gentleman on what portends to be a simple, pleasant carriage ride, perhaps including some evening social event.
First Stanza: An Unorthodox Carriage Ride
Because I could not stop for Death – He kindly stopped for me – The Carriage held but just Ourselves – And Immortality.
In the first stanza, the speaker claims startlingly that she was unable to avail herself to cease her work and leave off her free time for a certain gentleman, whom she names “Death.”
However, that gentleman Death had no problem in stopping for her, and he did so in such a polite fashion that she readily acquiesced to his kindness and agreed to join him for a carriage ride.
The speaker offers an additional shocking remark, noting that the carriage, in which the speaker and gentleman caller Death rode, was transporting not only the speaker and the gentleman but also one other passenger—”Immortality.” Thus, the speaker has begun to dramatize an utterly unorthodox buggy ride.
The kind gentleman Death has picked up the speaker as if she were his date for a simple carriage ride through the countryside, but something otherworldly intrudes immediately with the presence of the third passenger.
By personifying “Death” as a gentleman caller, the speaker imparts to that act a certain level of rationality that levels out fear and trepidation usually associated with the idea of dying.
Second Stanza: The Gentleman Caller
We slowly drove – He knew no haste, And I had put away My labor and my leisure too, For His Civility –
The speaker then describes her momentous event. She has not only ceased her ordinary work, but she has also concluded her leisure–certainly not unusual for someone who dies.
The gentleman caller Death has been so persuasive in suggesting a carriage ride that the speaker has easily complied with his suggestion. This kind and gracious man was in no hurry; instead, he offered a rhythmically methodical ushering into realms of peace and quiet.
Third Stanza: A Review of a Life Lived
We passed the School, where Children strove At recess – in the ring – We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain – We passed the Setting Sun –
Next, the speaker reports that she was able to observe children playing at school during recess. She also views cornfields or perhaps fields of wheat. She, then, views the setting of the sun.
The images observed by the speaker may be interpreted as symbols of three stages in each human life: (1) children playing representing childhood, (2) the growing fields of grain symbolizing adulthood, and (3) the setting sun representing old age.
The imagery also brings to mind the well-known concept that a dying person may experience the passing of scenes from one’s life before the mind’s eye. The experience of viewing of past scenic memories from the dying person’s life seems likely to be for the purpose of readying the human soul for its next incarnation.
Fourth Stanza: The Passing Scenes
Or rather – He passed Us – The Dews drew quivering and chill – For only Gossamer, my Gown – My Tippet – only Tulle –
The speaker reveals that she is dressed in very light clothing. On the one hand, she experiences a chill at witnessing the startling images passing before her sight. But is it the light clothing or is it some other phenomenon causing the chill?
Then on the other hand, it seems that instead of the carriage passing those scenes she has described of children playing, grain growing, and sun setting, those scenes may actually be passing the carriage riders. The uncertainly regarding this turn of events once again supports the commonly held notion that the speaker is viewing her life passing before her eyes.
Fifth Stanza: The Pause
We paused before a House that seemed A Swelling of the Ground – The Roof was scarcely visible – The Cornice – in the Ground –
By now, the carriage has almost reached its destination, and instead of a gala or festive outing, it is the speaker’s gravesite before which the carriage has momentarily stopped.
Apparently, without shock or surprise, the speaker now dramatically unveils the image of the grave: she sees a mound of dirt, but she cannot see the roof of the building that she expected, and any ornamental moulding that might have decorated the house also remains out of the sight of the speaker who assumes it is “in the Ground.”
Sixth Stanza: Looking Back from Eternity
Since then – ’tis centuries – and yet Feels shorter than the Day I first surmised the Horses’ Heads Were toward Eternity –
In the final scene, the speaker is calmly reporting that she remains now—and has been all along—centuries in future time. She speaks plainly from her cosmic, eternal home on the spiritual/astral level of being. She has been reporting only on how events seemed to go on the day she died, that is, that day that her soul left its physical encasement.
She recalls what she saw only briefly just after leaving her physical encasement (body). Yet, the time from the day she died to her time now centuries later feels to her soul as if it were a very short period of time.
The time that has passed, though it may be centuries, seems to the speaker relatively shorter than the earthly day of 24 hours. The speaker avers that on that day the heads of the horses drawing the carriage were pointing “toward Eternity.”
The speaker has unequivocally described through metaphor and metaphysical terminology the transition from life to death. That third occupant of the carriage offered the assurance that the speaker’s soul had left the body but continued to exist beyond that body.
Image: Emily Dickinson – Amherst College – Daguerrotype of the poet at age 17, circa 1847 – likely the only authentic, extant image of the poet
Emily Dickinson’s “Publication – is the Auction”
Emily Dickinson’s “Publication – is the Auction” remains one of the poet’s starkest statements on the value of authenticity in creative effort—in her case the writing of poetry.
Introduction and Text of Emily Dickinson’s “Publication – is the Auction”
In her poem “Publication – is the Auction,” Emily Dickinson has created a speaker who is musing on the issue of allowing one’s inner thoughts to be made public through publication in media, including newspapers, magazines, or books.
Ultimately, she is saying that remaining true to one’s values and beliefs is more important than writing to sell to a wide audience. Dickinson’s spirituality, contingent upon mysticism, gave her the strong will to continue exploring the world for truth and then telling it without reservation.
Her speaker avers that publication of literary works can even become a threat to one’s inner life, as achievement is so often shunted aside solely for the purpose of increasing sales. Her speaker engages metaphors and images in areas of commerce and religion in order to approach a notion of purity.
Her speaker feels that reverence for one’s mental faculties will naturally garner restraint that will ethically prevent rash decisions to expose one’s inner talent to a world interested primarily in financial achievement over literary accomplishments.
Publication – is the Auction
Publication – is the Auction Of the Mind of Man – Poverty – be justifying For so foul a thing
Possibly – but We – would rather From Our Garret go White – unto the White Creator – Than invest – Our Snow –
Thought belong to Him who gave it – Then – to Him Who bear Its Corporeal illustration – Sell The Royal Air –
In the Parcel – Be the Merchant Of the Heavenly Grace – But reduce no Human Spirit To Disgrace of Price –
Commentary on “Publication – is the Auction”
Emily Dickinson published very few poems during her lifetime. Although she seemed to seek publication as she first conversed with Thomas Wentworth Higginson, her ultimate goal was to produce a body of work the meant something for her soul. She seemed to learn very quickly and early that publication had its pitfalls, and it seems that she struggled to avoid them.
Stanza 1: “Publication – is the Auction”
Publication – is the Auction Of the Mind of Man – Poverty – be justifying For so foul a thing
The speaker opens with a candid statement that publishing is tantamount to selling one’s soul. Although she buffers the claim by inserting “Mind” instead of soul, the ultimate meaning of inner awareness becomes more comparable to soul-awareness than mere mental capacity and observance.
The speaker avers that selling one’s words is equal to selling one’s own consciousness, not merely the paper, ink, and stream of words across a page. Such an insistence makes it abundantly clear that such a sale cannot be justified. In fact, remaining in “Poverty” is better than engaging in “so foul a thing” as selling one’s inner being.
The speaker then is implying that the creative writer’s mind becomes a mere object that is diminished by such a sordid undertaking. The economy with which the speaker has presented such a sapient idea demonstrates the strength her metaphor is exerting.
One can imagine an auctioneer rattling off numbers above the head of man, who is selling his head’s contents to the highest bidder. Such a scenario mocks the very notion of trying to sell one’s wares that have come into being through deep thought about spiritually vital things.
One might question such a strong stance against publication for money, but it is important to keep in mind that the speaker is no doubt referring to the creation and sale of poetry. The genesis of poetry remains a very different one from writing expository and informative essays and/or news articles.
Even the writing of fiction such as plays, short stories, or novels carries a different moral impact. If the speaker were focusing on those genres, the poem would have undoubtedly taken a very different approach.
Stanza 2: “Possibly – but We – would rather”
Possibly – but We – would rather From Our Garret go White – unto the White Creator – Than invest – Our Snow –
In the second stanza, the speaker switches from the general to the personal. Employing the editorial “We,” she asserts that despite the possibly of living in poverty, first principles and ethics remain inviolable.
Thus, if the poet must leave her “Garret”—symbol for poverty—she need not go rushing toward the marketplace. Instead, she can and must associate herself with purity: she employs “White” as a symbol of that purity. Thus, rather than “invest” her “Snow”—another symbol of purity as well as a metaphor for her creative writing pieces—she will go toward the “White Creator”—the Ultimate symbol of purity.
Investing one’s “Snow” signals turning one’s purity (works of art) into money, and such an exchange would cause those works and the mind that created them to become contaminated. Imagine handling a ball of snow—it does not remain snow but instead it melts into a pool of water.
Although water is a useful commodity, after melting from snow the original element has lost its original defining qualities. A work of art/poem may become further damaged even by the process of being readied for publication: how often have we heard writers lament that their original words were changed by an editor?
The speaker then is asserting that she prefers total obscurity to the compromise demanded by attempts at publication. And she is not asserting this stance out fear but instead out of fidelity to her ethical position regarding her sacred principles and values.
She is implying rather strongly that remaining in poverty is the better way to preserve her inner dedication to truth; that way she need never make excuses for losing spiritual purity.
Stanza 3: “Thought belong to Him who gave it”
Thought belong to Him who gave it – Then – to Him Who bear Its Corporeal illustration – Sell The Royal Air –
The speaker now offers her most profound reason for eschewing publication: because all thought belongs to the Ultimate Reality or God. God owns all thought just as He owns all of the air we breathe. Selling thought then becomes tantamount to selling air—a truly absurd notion, easily assimilated and understood.
The writer/artist becomes an instrument of the Divine, a steward not a proprietor. Ownership is not conferred by merely having taken a thought and shaped it into a poem; the Divine Poet, who awarded the poem to the poet, still owns the work.
Stanza 4: “In the Parcel – Be the Merchant”
In the Parcel – Be the Merchant Of the Heavenly Grace – But reduce no Human Spirit To Disgrace of Price –
In the final stanza, the speaker commands her audience of artists—and likely most important herself as a poet—to accept the package (the art work/poem but think of it as coming from its Divine Source. By thinking thusly, the poet/artist can happily continue to create—as the Great Creator does—but without the stain conferred by the fickle marketplace.
The artist must remain true to her own inner values, and the most natural and divine way to do that is to realize their Source—create for the original Creator alone; the art that is thus produced will reflect only love, beauty, and truth. These qualities are the only ones with which the true artist can contend, for they remain free from taint, stain, and corruption that surge by trying to please multifaceted humankind.
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