Showing posts with label Emily Dickinson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Emily Dickinson. Show all posts

Sunday, November 30, 2008

A Narrow Fellow in the Grass (Emily Dickinson)

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Emily Dickinson, circa 1850
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A narrow fellow in the grass
Occasionally rides;
You may have met him,--did you not,
His notice sudden is.

The grass divides as with a comb,
A spotted shaft is seen;
And then it closes at your feet
And opens further on.




He likes a boggy acre,
A floor too cool for corn.
Yet when a child, and barefoot,
I more than once, at morn,

Have passed, I thought, a whip-lash
Unbraiding in the sun,--
When, stooping to secure it,
It wrinkled, and was gone.

Several of nature's people
I know, and they know me;
I feel for them a transport
Of cordiality;

But never met this fellow,
Attended or alone,
Without a tighter breathing,
And zero at the bone.
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Friday, November 28, 2008

A bird came down the walk (Emily Dickinson)

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A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angle-worm 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 abroad,--
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.
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Sunday, August 24, 2008

Classic Poetry: "My Life had stood -- a Loaded Gun --" (Emily Dickinson, 1830-1886)

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From the daguerreotype taken at Mount Holyoke, December 1846 or early 1847. It is the only authenticated portrait of Emily Dickinson later than childhood.
Wikipedia
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My Life had stood -- a Loaded Gun --
In Corners -- till a Day
The Owner passed -- identified --
And carried Me away --

And now We roam in Sovereign Woods --
And now We hunt the Doe --
And every time I speak for Him --
The Mountains straight reply --

And do I smile, such cordial light
Upon the Valley glow --
It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let its pleasure through --

And when at Night - Our good Day done --
I guard My Master's Head --
'Tis better than the Eider-Duck's
Deep Pillow -- to have shared --

To foe of His -- I'm deadly foe --
None stir the second time --
On whom I lay a Yellow Eye --
Or an emphatic Thumb --

Though I than He - may longer live
He longer must -- than I --
For I have but the power to kill,
Without -- the power to die --

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"Love is a Loaded Gun" (Alice Cooper)



00will00

If only Emily had known...

Copyright 1991 Sony

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A letter from Emily Dickinson to Thomas Wentworth Higginson, a writer for the Atlantic Monthly, in which she responded to his "Letter to a Young Contributor":

Thomas Wentworth Higgenson
in uniform; he was colonel of the First South Carolina Volunteers from 1862 to 1864.
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Mr Higginson,

Are you too deeply occupied to say if my Verse is alive?

The Mind is so near itself – it cannot see, distinctly – and I have none to ask –

Should you think it breathed – and had you the leisure to tell me, I should feel quick gratitude –

If I make the mistake – that you dared to tell me – would give me sincerer honor – toward you –

I enclose my name – asking you, if you please – Sir – to tell me what is true?

That you will not betray me – it is needless to ask – since Honor is it's [sic] own pawn –
Higginson's essay, in which he urged aspiring writers to "Charge your style with life," contained practical advice to aspiring writers wishing to break into print. He did not realize that Dickinson's work had already seen print.

Source and excerpt: Wikipedia


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Emily's Tryst (A review. This link may eventually disappear.)

(Thank you to Diana Manister for leading me and others to this review. Fascinating stuff.)
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