David's Teaching Blog: AS ENGLISH LITERATURE

AS ENGLISH LITERATURE

EMILY DICKINSON’S POEMS

POETRY

Here are the poems we will be studying when we have completed the teaching for the 2000 word comparative essay on Spies and Equus. I will produce an anthology of these poems later in the year. This poetry is very different from the poems we've studied by Ted Hughes. However the questions in the Hughes anthology are useful for studying these poems as well.

AS ENGLISH LITERATURE

Some Key Questions

Below are some key questions and prompt statements to consider for each poem we study.

· Comment on the voice of the poem.

· Who is speaking?

· What is the main subject of the poem?

· What is the poem about?

· What happens in the poem?

· What are the main themes or issues raised in the poem?

· Comment on the characters / main subject of the poem

· Comment on the setting and context of the poem.

· Comment on the structure and form of the poem

What key language and literary features can you identify and what effect do these features have on a reader?

· You should consider such features as – grammar, lexis, syntax, rhetoric, register

· You should also consider such features as imagery – metaphor and simile, symbolism, alliteration, assonance, rhyme, structure and form of the poem, etc

There's a certain Slant of light (258)

There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons--
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes--

Heavenly Hurt, it gives us--
We can find no scar,
But internal difference,
Where the Meanings, are--

None may teach it--Any--
'Tis the Seal Despair--
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the air--

When it comes, the Landscape listens--
Shadows--hold their breath--
When it goes, 'tis like the Distance
On the look of Death—

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain (280)

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading--treading--till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through--

And when they all were seated,
A Service, like a Drum--
Kept beating--beating--till I thought
My Mind was going numb--

And then I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again,
Then Space--began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,
And Being, but an Ear,
And I, and Silence, some strange Race
Wrecked, solitary, here--

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down--
And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing--then--

A Bird came down the Walk (328)


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.

After great pain, a formal feeling comes -- (341)

After great pain, a formal feeling comes --
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs
The stiff Heart questions, was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?

The Feet, mechanical, go round --
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought --
A Wooden way
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone --

This is the Hour of Lead --
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow --
First -- Chill -- then Stupor -- then the letting go --

I heard a Fly buzz (465)


I heard a Fly buzz – when I died – The Stillness in the Room Was like the Stillness in the Air – Between the Heaves of Storm – The Eyes around – had wrung them dry – And Breaths were gathering firm For that last Onset – when the King Be witnessed – in the Room – I willed my Keepsakes – Signed away What portions of me be Assignable – and then it was There interposed a Fly – With Blue – uncertain stumbling Buzz – Between the light – and me – And then the Windows failed – and then I could not see to see –

Going to Him! Happy letter! (494)

Going to Him! Happy letter!

Tell Him—

Tell Him the page I didn’t write—

Tell Him—I only said the Syntax—

And left the Verb and the pronoun out—

Tell Him just how the fingers hurried—

Then—how they waded—slow—slow—

And then you wished you had eyes in your pages—

So you could see what moved them so—

Tell Him—it wasn’t a Practised Writer—

You guessed—from the way the sentence toiled—

You could hear the Bodice tug, behind you—

As if it held but the might of a child—

You almost pitied it—you—it worked so—

Tell Him—no—you may quibble there—

For it would split His Heart, to know it—

And then you and I, were silenter.

Tell Him—Night finished—before we finished—

And the Old Clock kept neighing “Day”!

And you—got sleepy—and begged to be ended—

What could it hinder so—to say?

Tell Him—just how she sealed you—Cautious!

But—if He ask where you are hid

Until tomorrow—Happy letter!

Gesture Coquette—and shake your Head!

This World is not Conclusion, (501)

This World is not Conclusion.

A Species stands beyond —

Invisible, as Music —

But positive, as Sound —

It beckons, and it baffles —

Philosphy — don't know —

And through a Riddle, at the last —

Sagacity, must go —

To guess it, puzzles scholars —

To gain it, Men have borne

Contempt of Generations

And Crucifixion, shown —

Faith slips — and laughs, and rallies —

Blushes, if any see —

Plucks at a twig of Evidence —

And asks a Vane, the way —

Much Gesture, from the Pulpit —

Strong Hallelujahs roll —

Narcotics cannot still the Tooth

That nibbles at the soul —

It was not Death, for I stood up (510)

It was not Death, for I stood up,

And all the Dead, lie down—

It was not Night, for all the Bells

Put out their Tongues, for Noon.

It was not Frost, for on my Flesh

I felt Sirocos—crawl—

Nor Fire—for just my Marble feet

Could keep a Chancel, cool—

And yet, it tasted, like them all,

The Figures I have seen

Set orderly, for Burial,

Reminded me, of mine—

As if my life were shaven,

And fitted to a frame,

And could not breathe without a key,

And 'twas like Midnight, some—

When everything that ticked—has stopped—

And Space stares all around—

Or Grisly frosts—first Autumn morns,

Repeal the Beating Ground—

But, most, like Chaos—Stopless—cool—

Without a Chance, or Spar—

Or even a Report of Land—

To justify—Despair.

One need not be a Chamber — to be Haunted — (670)

One need not be a Chamber — to be Haunted —

One need not be a House —

The Brain has Corridors — surpassing

Material Place —

Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting

External Ghost

Than its interior Confronting —

That Cooler Host.

Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,

The Stones a’chase —

Than Unarmed, one’s a’self encounter —

In lonesome Place —

Ourself behind ourself, concealed —

Should startle most —

Assassin hid in our Apartment

Be Horror’s least.

The Body — borrows a Revolver —

He bolts the Door —

O’erlooking a superior spectre —

Or More —

Because I could not stop for Death (712)


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 – Behind Me -- dips Eternity – (721) Behind Me -- dips Eternity -- Before Me -- Immortality -- Myself -- the Term between -- Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray, Dissolving into Dawn away, Before the West begin -- 'Tis Kingdoms -- afterward -- they say -- In perfect -- pauseless Monarchy -- Whose Prince -- is Son of None -- Himself -- His Dateless Dynasty -- Himself -- Himself diversify -- In Duplicate divine -- 'Tis Miracle before Me -- then -- 'Tis Miracle behind -- between -- A Crescent in the Sea -- With Midnight to the North of Her -- And Midnight to the South of Her -- And Maelstrom -- in the Sky – My Life had stood -- a Loaded Gun –(754) 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 – A narrow Fellow in the Grass (986) 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 Boy, and Barefoot— I more than once at Noon 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— The last Night that She lived (1100) The last Night that She lived It was a Common Night Except the Dying—this to Us Made Nature different We noticed smallest things— Things overlooked before By this great light upon our Minds Italicized—as ’twere. As We went out and in Between Her final Room And Rooms where Those to be alive Tomorrow were, a Blame That Others could exist While She must finish quite A Jealousy for Her arose So nearly infinite— We waited while She passed— It was a narrow time— Too jostled were Our Souls to speak At length the notice came. She mentioned, and forgot— Then lightly as a Reed Bent to the Water, struggled scarce— Consented, and was dead— And We—We placed the Hair— And drew the Head erect— And then an awful leisure was Belief to regulate— What mystery pervades a well! (1400) What mystery pervades a well! That water lives so far -- A neighbor from another world Residing in a jar Whose limit none have ever seen, But just his lid of glass -- Like looking every time you please In an abyss's face! The grass does not appear afraid, I often wonder he Can stand so close and look so bold At what is awe to me. Related somehow they may be, The sedge stands next the sea -- Where he is floorless And does no timidity betray But nature is a stranger yet; The ones that cite her most Have never passed her haunted house, Nor simplified her ghost. To pity those that know her not Is helped by the regret That those who know her, know her less The nearer her they get.

AS ENGLISH LITERATURE - EMILY DICKINSON'S POETRY