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Poems by Emily Dickinson Part 24

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Ascend in ceaseless carol, Inaudible, indeed, To us, the duller scholars Of the mysterious bard!

LIII.

RETURNING.

I years had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before

Stare vacant into mine And ask my business there.

 

My business, -- just a life I left, Was such still dwelling there?

I fumbled at my nerve, I scanned the windows near; The silence like an ocean rolled, And broke against my ear.

I laughed a wooden laugh That I could fear a door, Who danger and the dead had faced, But never quaked before.

I fitted to the latch My hand, with trembling care, Lest back the awful door should spring, And leave me standing there.

I moved my fingers off As cautiously as gla.s.s, And held my ears, and like a thief Fled gasping from the house.

LIV.

PRAYER.

Prayer is the little implement Through which men reach Where presence is denied them.

They fling their speech

By means of it in G.o.d's ear; If then He hear, This sums the apparatus Comprised in prayer.

LV.

I know that he exists Somewhere, in silence.

He has hid his rare life From our gross eyes.

'T is an instant's play, 'T is a fond ambush, Just to make bliss Earn her own surprise!

But should the play Prove piercing earnest, Should the glee glaze In death's stiff stare,

Would not the fun Look too expensive?

Would not the jest Have crawled too far?

LVI.

MELODIES UNHEARD.

Musicians wrestle everywhere: All day, among the crowded air, I hear the silver strife; And -- waking long before the dawn -- Such transport breaks upon the town I think it that "new life!"

It is not bird, it has no nest; Nor band, in bra.s.s and scarlet dressed, Nor tambourine, nor man; It is not hymn from pulpit read, -- The morning stars the treble led On time's first afternoon!

Some say it is the spheres at play!

Some say that bright majority Of vanished dames and men!

Some think it service in the place Where we, with late, celestial face, Please G.o.d, shall ascertain!

LVII.

CALLED BACK.

Just lost when I was saved!

Just felt the world go by!

Just girt me for the onset with eternity, When breath blew back, And on the other side I heard recede the disappointed tide!

Therefore, as one returned, I feel, Odd secrets of the line to tell!

Some sailor, skirting foreign sh.o.r.es, Some pale reporter from the awful doors Before the seal!

Next time, to stay!

Next time, the things to see By ear unheard, Unscrutinized by eye.

Next time, to tarry, While the ages steal, -- Slow tramp the centuries, And the cycles wheel.

II. LOVE.

I.

CHOICE.

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Poems by Emily Dickinson Part 24 summary

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