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I Measure Every Grief
I measure every grief I meet
With analytic eyes;
I wonder if it weighs like mine,
Or has an easier size.
I wonder if they bore it long,
Or did it just begin?
I could not tell the date of mine,
It feels so old a pain.
I wonder if it hurts to live,
And if they have to try,
And whether, could they choose between,
They would not rather die.
I wonder if when years have piled-- Some thousands-- on the cause
Of early hurt, if such a lapse
Could give them any pause;
Or would they go on aching still
Through centuries above,
Enlightened to a larger pain
By contrast with the love.
The grieved are many, I am told;
The reason deeper lies, --
Death is but one and comes but once
And only nails the eyes.
There's grief of want, and grief of cold, --
A sort they call 'despair,'
There's banishment from native eyes,
In sight of native air.
And though I may not guess the kind
Correctly yet to me
A piercing comfort it affords
In passing Calvary,
To note the fashions of the cross
Of those that stand alone
Still fascinated to presume
That some are like my own.
| About Emily Dickinson
(1830 -1886) |
|
Dickinson is always viewed as a brilliant poet with individually unique and original poems. Sadly, her fame only came after her death because only seven of her poems were published during her lifetime. Spending virtually all her life in her family's home in Massachusetts, Dickinson only attended one year of college due to poor health and homesickness. Apart from occasional visits to relatives' homes outside the town, she spend most of her time in her home. Dickinson sent most of her poems to her circle of friends via letters. These poems were largely “buried” until they were discovered by her relatives after Dickinson's death. Most of it were kept in a truck in the homestead attic. The poems were handwritten and were sewn together in a booklet using a needle and thread. When her works were published, her name became popular almost instantly. However, only the anthology called The Poems of Emily Dickinson carried her full style -with her extensive dashes and capitalizations intact. In her self willed isolation, Dickinson produced 1775 known poems, marked with unique individual talent. Her grave is located within the sight of her family home – in accordance to her wish. |
