From the Chrysalis, di Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

From the Chrysalis

My cocoon tightens, colors tease,

I’m feeling for the air;

A dim capacity for wings

Degrades the dress I wear.

A power of butterfly must be

The aptitude to fly,

Meadows of majesty concedes

And easy sweeps of sky.

So I must baffle at the hint

And cipher at the sign,

And make much blunder, if at last

I take the clew divine.

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury

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The name—of it—is “Autumn”—

656 The name—of it—is “Autumn”— The hue—of it—is Blood— An Artery—upon the Hill— A Vein—along the Road—

I Measure Every Grief I Meet (561)

I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing, Eyes— I wonder if It weighs like Mine— Or has an Easier size. I wonder if They bore it long—

Each Scar I’ll keep for Him

877 Each Scar I’ll keep for Him Instead I’ll say of Gem In His long Absence worn A Costlier one

Low at my Problem Bending

69 Low at my problem bending, Another problem comes— Larger than mine—Serener— Involving statelier sums.

Autumn—overlooked my Knitting—

748 Autumn—overlooked my Knitting— Dyes—said He—have I— Could disparage a Flamingo— Show Me them—said I—

You Said That I

You said that I “was Great”'—one… Then “Great” it be’—if that pleas… Or Small’—or any size at all’— Nay’—I’m the size suit Thee’— Tall’—like the Stag’—would that?

The Himmaleh Was Known to Stoop

481 The Himmaleh was known to stoop Unto the Daisy low— Transported with Compassion That such a Doll should grow

I Think Just How my Shape Will Rise

237 I think just how my shape will ris… When I shall be “forgiven”— Till Hair—and Eyes—and timid Hea… Are out of sight—in Heaven—

By my Window Have I for Scenery

797 By my Window have I for Scenery Just a Sea—with a Stem— If the Bird and the Farmer—deem i… The Opinion will serve—for them—

A Burdock—clawed my Gown—

229 A Burdock—clawed my Gown— Not Burdock’s—blame— But mine— Who went too near

There is no Silence in the Earth

There is no Silence in the Earth… As that endured Which uttered, would discourage N… And haunt the World.

It Bloomed and Dropt, a Single Noon

978 It bloomed and dropt, a Single No… The Flower—distinct and Red— I, passing, thought another Noon Another in its stead

The Skies Can’T Keep Their Secret!

191 The Skies can’t keep their secret… They tell it to the Hills— The Hills just tell the Orchards— And they—the Daffodils!

Like Flowers, That Heard the News of Dews

513 Like Flowers, that heard the news… But never deemed the dripping priz… Awaited their—low Brows— Or Bees—that thought the Summer’s…

Sweet—You forgot—but I remembered

523 Sweet—You forgot—but I remembered Every time—for Two— So that the Sum be never hindered Through Decay of You—

Emily Dickinson

From the Chrysalis

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