Explore the essence of life, love, nature, and time in exquisite verse with this elegantly designed edition of Emily Dickinson’s finest poems.
Born in 1830 in Amherst, Massachusetts, to a prominent New England family and educated at Amherst Academy and Mt. Holyoke Female Seminary, Emily Elizabeth Dickinson lived most of her life in seclusion, devoted to writing. She scarcely left home, nor did she have many visitors. Only ten of her poems were published in her lifetime, submitted without her permission by friends. It was only after her death in 1886 that the scope of her work as a poet came to light—over 1,700 poems were discovered in a dresser drawer by her sister, Lavinia.
Emily Dickinson’s poems reflect her loneliness, as well as her love of nature, the influence of the Metaphysical poets of seventeenth century England, and her strong Puritan religious beliefs. Yet, it is her use of language, form, and the deceptive simplicity of her verse that categorize her as an important force in nineteenth century American letters and, along with Walt Whitman, a founder of a distinctly American voice in modern poetry.
PRELUDE
THIS is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,— That simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty.
Her message is committed To hands I cannot see; For love of her, sweet countrymen, Judge tenderly of me!
The Timeless Classics series from Rock Point brings together the works of classic authors from around the world. Complete and unabridged, these elegantly designed gift editions feature luxe, patterned endpapers, ribbon markers, and foil and deboss details on vibrantly colored cases. Celebrate these beloved works of literature as true standouts in your personal library collection.
Product Details
ISBN-13: 9781631068416
Media Type: Hardcover
Publisher: Rock Point
Publication Date: 04-12-2022
Pages: 236
Product Dimensions: 6.50(w) x 9.50(h) x 0.70(d)
Series: Timeless Classics Series #8
About the Author
Emily Dickinson was an American poet whose writing was heavily influenced by the Metaphysical poets of seventeenth-century England, as well as her reading of the Book of Revelation and her upbringing in a Puritan New England town. In addition to poetry, Dickinson had a passion for baking and botany, and became reclusive later in life. While Dickinson was extremely prolific as a poet and regularly enclosed poems in letters to friends, she was not publicly recognized during her lifetime. The first volume of these works was published in 1890, well after her death in 1886. A full compilation, The Poems of Emily Dickinson, wasn’t published until 1955, though previous iterations had been released. Dickinson has since been regarded as one of the most important figures in American poetry.
Read an Excerpt
Read an Excerpt
Today Emily Dickinson is recognized not only as a major poet of the American nineteenth century but also as one of the most intriguing poets of any place or time, in both her art and her life. The outline of her biography is well known. She was born in Amherst, Massachusetts, in 1830 and, except for a few excursions to Philadelphia, Washington, and Boston, spent her entire life there, increasingly limiting her activities to her father's house. "I do not cross my Father's ground to any House or Town," she wrote, referring to a personal reclusiveness that was noticeable even to her contemporaries. In the front corner bedroom of that house on Main Street, Dickinson wrote over 1,700 poems, often on scraps of paper and on the backs of grocery lists, only a handful of which were published in her lifetime and then anonymously. She was known to give poems to friends and neighbors, often as an accompaniment to the cakes and cookies she baked, sometimes lowering them from an upstairs window in a basket. Her habit of binding groups of poems together into little booklets called fascicles might indicate she felt her poems were presentable, but most of her poems never went farther than her desk drawer where they were discovered by her sister after Dickinson's death in 1886 of kidney failure. In her lifetime, her poetry remained unknown, and although a few small editions of her poems were published in the 1890s, it was not until 1955 that a reliable scholarly edition appeared, transcribing the poems precisely from the original manuscripts and preserving all of Dickinson's typographical eccentricities (see Note). Convincingly or not, she called publication "the auction of the mind" and compared the public figure to a frog croaking to the admiring audience of a bog.
It is fascinating to consider the case of a person who led such a private existence and whose poems remained unrecognized for so long after her death, as if she had lain asleep only to be awakened by the kiss of the twentieth century. The quirky circumstances of her life have received as much if not more commentary than the poems themselves. Some critics valorize her seclusion as a form of female self-sufficiency; others make her out to be a victim of her culture. Still others believe that her solitariness has been exaggerated. She did attend school, after all, and she maintained many intimate relationships by letter. Moreover, it was less eccentric in her day than in ours for one daughter—she had a brother who was a lawyer and a sister who married—to remain home to run the household and assist her parents. Further, all writers need privacy; all must close the door on the world to think and compose. But Dickinson's separateness—which has caused her to be labeled a homebody, a spinster, and a feminist icon among other things—took extreme forms. She was so shy that her sister Lavinia would be fitted for her clothes; she wore only white for many years ("Wear nothing commoner than snow"); and she rarely would address an envelope, afraid that her handwriting would be seen by the eyes of strangers. When asked of her companions, she replied in a letter to Thomas Wentworth Higginson, "Hills, sir, and the sundown, and a dog large as myself that my father bought me."
However tempting it is to search through the biographical evidence for a solution to the enigma of Emily Dickinson's life, we must remember that no such curiosity would exist were it not for the poems themselves. Her style is so distinctive that anyone even slightly acquainted with her poems would recognize a poem on the page as an Emily Dickinson poem, if only for its shape. Here is a typical example:
'T is little I could care for pearls Who own the ample sea; Or brooches when the Emperor With rubies pelteth me; Or gold, who am the Prince of Mines; Or diamonds, when I see A diadem to fit a dome Continual crowning me.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Contents introduction xxvii poems. 1890. prelude book i. life. success “our share of the night to bear. . .” rouge et noir rouge gagne “glee! the great storm is over. . .” “if i can stop one heart from breaking. . .” almost! “a wounded dear leaps highest. . .” “the heart asks pleasure first. . .” in a library “much madness is divinest sense. . .” “i asked no other thing. . .” exclusion the secret the lonely house “to fight aloud is very brave. . .” dawn the book of martyrs the mystery of pain “i taste a liquor never brewed. . .” a book “i had no time to hate, because. . .” unreturning “whether my bark went down at sea. . .” “belshazzar had a letter. . .” “the brain within its groove. . .” book ii. love. mine bequest “alter? when the hills do. . .” suspense surrender “if you were coming in the fall. . .” with a flower proof “have you got a brook in your little heart?” transplanted the outlet in vain renunciation love’s baptism resurrection apocalypse the wife apotheosis book iii. nature. “new feet within my garden go. . .” may-flower why? “perhaps you’d like to buy a flower. . .” “the pedigree of honey. . .” a service of song “the bee is not afraid of me. . .” summer’s armies the grass “a little road not made of man. . .” summer shower psalm of the day the sea of sunset purple clover the bee “presentiment is that long shadow on the lawn. . .” “as children bid the guest good-night. . .” “angels in the early morning. . .” “so bashful when i spied her. . .” two worlds the mountain a day “the butterfly’s assumption-gown. . .” the wind death and life “’twas later when the summer went. . .” indian summer autumn beclouded the hemlock “there’s a certain slant of light. . .” book iv. time and eternity. “one dignity delays for all. . .” too late astra castra “safe in their alabaster chambers. . .” “on this long storm the rainbow rose. . .” from the chrysalis setting sail “look back on time with kindly eyes. . .” “a train went through a burial gate. . .” “i died for beauty, but was scarce. . .” troubled about many things real the funeral “i went to thank her. . .” “i’ve seen a dying eye. . .” refuge “i never saw a moor. . .” playmates “to know just how he suffered would be dear. . .” “the last night that she lived. . .” the first lesson “the bustle in a house. . .” “i reason, earth is short. . .” “afraid? of whom am i afraid?” dying “two swimmers wrestled on the spar. . .” the chariot “she went as quiet as the dew. . .” resurgam “except to heaven she is nought. . .” “death is a dialogue between. . .” “it was too late for man. . .” along the potomac “the daisy follows soft the sun. . .” emancipation lost “if i shouldn’t be alive. . .” “sleep is supposed to be. . .” “i shall know why when time is over. . .” “i never lost as much but twice. . .” poems. 1891. “my nosegays are for captives. . .” book i. life. “i’m nobody! who are you?” “i bring an unaccustomed wine. . .” “the nearest dream recedes, unrealized. . .” “we play at paste. . .” “i found the phrase to every thought. . .” hope the white heat triumph the test escape compensation the martyrs a prayer “the thought beneath so slight a film. . .” “the soul unto itself. . .” “surgeons must be very careful. . .” the railway train the show “delight becomes pictorial. . .” “a thought went up my mind today. . .” “is heaven a physician?” the return “a poor torn heart, a tattered heart. . .” too much shipwreck “victory comes late. . .” enough “experiment to me. . .” my country’s wardrobe “faith is fine invention. . .” “except the heaven had come so near. . .” “portraits are to daily faces. . .” the duel “a shady friend for torrid days. . .” the goal sight “talk with prudence to a beggar. . .” the preacher “good night! which put the candle out?” “when i hoped i feared. . .” deed time’s lesson remorse the shelter “undue significance a starving man attaches. . .” “heart not so heavy as mine. . .” “i many times thought peace had come. . .” “unto my books so good to turn. . .” “this merit hath the worst. . .” hunger “i gained it so. . .” “to learn the transport by the pain. . .” returning prayer “i know that he exists. . .” melodies unheard called back book ii. love. choice “i have no life but this. . .” “your riches taught me poverty. . .” the contract the letter “the way i read a letter’s this. . .” “wild nights! wild nights!” at home 89 possession “a charm invests a face. . .” the lovers “in lands i never saw, they say. . .” “the moon is distant from the sea. . .” “he put the belt around my life. . .” the lost jewel “what if i say i shall not wait?” book iii. nature. mother nature out of the morning “at half-past three a single bird. . .” day’s parlor the sun’s wooing the robin the butterfly’s day the bluebird april the sleeping flowers my rose the oriole’s secret the oriole in shadow the humming-bird secrets “who robbed the woods. . .” two voyagers by the sea old-fashioned a tempest the sea in the garden the snake the mushroom the storm the spider “i know a place where summer strives. . .” “the one that could repeat the summer day. . .” the wind’s visit “nature, rarer uses yellow. . .” gossip simplicity storm the rat “frequently the woods are pink. . .” a thunder-storm with flowers sunset “she sweeps with many-colored brooms. . .” “like mighty footlights burned the red. . .” problems the juggler of day my cricket “as imperceptibly as grief. . .” “it can’t be summer,—that got through. . .” summer’s obsequies fringed gentian november the snow the bluejay book iv. time and eternity. “let down the bars, o death!” “going to heaven!” “at least to pray is left, is left. . .” epitaph “morns like these we parted. . .” “a death-blow is a life-blow to some. . .” “i read my sentence steadily. . .” “i have not told my garden yet. . .” the battle-field “the only ghost i ever saw. . .” “some, too fragile for winter winds. . .” “as by the dead we love to sit. . .” memorials “i went to heaven. . .” “their height in heaven comforts not. . .” “there is a shame of nobleness. . .” triumph “pompless no life can pass away. . .” “i noticed people disappeared. . .” following “if anybody’s friend be dead. . .” the journey a country burial going “essential oils are wrung. . .” “i lived on dread; to those who know. . .” “if i should die. . .” at length ghosts vanished precedence gone requiem “what inn is this. . .” “it was not death, for i stood up. . .” till the end void “a throe upon the features. . .” saved! “i think just how my shape will rise. . .” the forgotten grave “lay this laurel on the one. . .” poems. 1896. “’tis all i have to bring today. . .” book i. life. real riches superiority to fate hope forbidden fruit (i) forbidden fruit (ii) a word “to venerate the simple days. . .” life’s trades “drowning is not so pitiful. . .” “how still the bells in steeples stand. . .” “if the foolish call them ‘flowers’. . .” a syllable parting aspiration the inevitable a book “who has not found the heaven below. . .” a portrait i had a guinea golden saturday afternoon “few get enough,—enough is one. . .” “upon the gallows hung a wretch. . .” the lost thought reticence with flowers “the farthest thunder that i heard. . .” “on the bleakness of my lot. . .” contrast friends fire a man ventures griefs “i have a king who does not speak. . .” disenchantment lost faith lost joy “i worked for chaff, and earning wheat. . .” “life, and death, and giants. . .” alpine glow remembrance “to hang our head ostensibly. . .” the brain “the bone that has no marrow. . .” the past “to help our bleaker parts. . .” “what soft, cherubic creatures. . .” desire philosophy power “a modest lot, a fame petite. . .” “in bliss, then, such abyss. . .” experience thanksgiving day childish griefs book ii. love. consecration love’s humility love satisfied with a flower song loyalty “to lose thee, sweeter than to gain. . .” “poor little heart!” forgotten “i’ve got an arrow here. . .” the master “heart, we will forget him!” “father, i bring thee not myself. . .” “we outgrow love like other things. . .” “not with a club the heart is broken. . .” who? “he touched me, so i live to know. . .” dreams numen lumen longing wedded book iii. nature. nature’s changes the tulip “a light exists in spring. . .” the waking year to march march dawn “a murmur in the trees to note. . .” “morning is the place for dew. . .” “to my quick ear the leaves conferred. . .” a rose “high from the earth i heard a bird. . .” cobwebs a well “to make a prairie it takes a clover. . .” the wind “a dew sufficed itself. . .” the woodpecker a snake “could i but ride indefinite. . .” the moon the bat the balloon evening cocoon sunset aurora the coming of night aftermath book iv. time and eternity. “this world is not conclusion. . .” “we learn in the retreating. . .” “they say that ‘time assuages’. . .” “we cover thee, sweet face. . .” “that is solemn we have ended. . .” “the stimulus, beyond the grave. . .” “given in marriage unto thee. . .” “that such have died enables us. . .” “they won’t frown always,—some sweet day. . .” immortality “the distance that the dead have gone. . .” “how dare the robins sing. . .” death unwarned “each that we lose takes part of us. . .” “not any higher stands the grave. . .” asleep the spirit the monument “bless god, he went as soldiers. . .” “immortal is an ample word. . .” “where every bird is bold to go. . .” “the grave my little cottage is. . .” “this was in the white of the year. . .” “sweet hours have perished here. . .” “me! come! my dazzled face. . .” invisible “i wish i knew that woman’s name. . .” trying to forget “i felt a funeral in my brain. . .” “i meant to find her when i came. . .” waiting “a sickness of this world it most occasions. . .” “superfluous were the sun. . .” “so proud she was to die. . .” farewell “the dying need but little, dear. . .” dead “the soul should always stand ajar. . .” “three weeks passed since i had seen her. . . “i breathed enough to learn the trick. . .” “i wonder if the sepulchre. . .” joy in death “if i may have it when it’s dead. . .” “before the ice is in the pools. . .” dying “adrift! a little boat adrift!” “there’s been a death in the opposite house. . .” “we never know we go,—when we are going. . .” the soul’s storm “water is taught by thirst. . .” thirst “a clock stopped—not the mantel’s. . .” charlotte brontë’s grave “a toad can die of light. . .” “far from love the heavenly father. . .” sleeping retrospect eternity