april
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I can’t tell you — but you feel it –
Nor can you tell me –
Saints, with ravished slate and pencil
Solve our April Day!
Sweeter than a vanished frolic
From a vanished green!
Swifter than the hoofs of Horsemen
Round a Ledge of dream!
Modest, let us walk among it
With our faces veiled –
As they say polite Archangels
Do in meeting God!
Not for me — to prate about it!
Not for you — to say
To some fashionable Lady
“Charming April Day”!
Rather — Heaven’s “Peter Parley”!
By which Children slow
To sublimer Recitation
Are prepared to go!
Tags: april, archangels, children, dream, faces, fashionable, feel, frolic, god, green, heaven, hoofs, horesmen, lady, ledge, modest, pencil, polite, prate, ravished, recitation, saints, say, slate, slow, solve, sublimer, sweeter, swifter, tell, vanished, veiled, walk
If I could bribe them by a Rose
I’d bring them every flower that grows
From Amherst to Cashmere!
I would not stop for night, or storm –
Or frost, or death, or anyone –
My business were so dear!
If they would linger for a Bird
My Tambourin were soonest heard
Among the April Woods!
Unwearied, all the summer long,
Only to break in wilder song
When Winter shook the boughs!
What if they hear me!
Who shall say
That such an importunity
May not at last avail?
That, weary of this Beggar’s face –
They may not finally say, Yes –
To drive her from the Hall?
Tags: amherst, april, avail, beggar, bird, boughs, break, bribe, business, cashmere, dear, death, face, flower, frost, grows, hall, hear, importunity, linger, long, night, rose, song, stop, storm, summer, tambourin, unwearied, wilder, winter, woods
Whose are the little beds, I asked
Which in the valleys lie?
Some shook their heads, and others smiled –
And no one made reply.
Perhaps they did not hear, I said,
I will inquire again –
Whose are the beds — the tiny beds
So thick upon the plain?
‘Tis Daisy, in the shortest –
A little further on –
Nearest the door — to wake the Ist –
Little Leontoden.
‘Tis Iris, Sir, and Aster –
Anemone, and Bell –
Bartsia, in the blanket red –
And chubby Daffodil.
Meanwhile, at many cradles
Her busy foot she plied –
Humming the quaintest lullaby
That ever rocked a child.
Hush! Epigea wakens!
The Crocus stirs her lids –
Rhodora’s cheek is crimson,
She’s dreaming of the woods!
Then turning from them reverent –
Their bedtime ’tis, she said –
The Bumble bees will wake them
When April woods are red.
Tags: anemone, april, aster, bartsia, beds, bedtime, bees, bell, blanket, cheek, child, cradles, crimson, crocus, daisy, dreaming, epigea, foot, heads, inquire, iris, leontoden, lullaby, plain, red, reply, reverent, rhodora, thick, valleys, wake, woods
Dear March, come in!
How glad I am!
I looked for you before.
Put down your hat –
You must have walked –
How out of breath you are!
Dear March, how are you?
And the rest?
Did you leave Nature well?
Oh, March, come right upstairs with me,
I have so much to tell!
I got your letter, and the birds’;
The maples never knew
That you were coming, — I declare,
How red their faces grew!
But, March, forgive me –
And all those hills
You left for me to hue;
There was no purple suitable,
You took it all with you.
Who knocks? That April!
Lock the door!
I will not be pursued!
He stayed away a year, to call
When I am occupied.
But trifles look so trivial
As soon as you have come,
That blame is just as dear as praise
And praise as mere as blame.
Tags: april, away, bird, hills, march, must, Nature, year
In case you were, like I was, shepherding Cub Scouts around on Saturday and missed the Prairie Home Companion broadcast, here’s a link to the Guy Noir send-up of Emily Dickinson. As expected, it’s pretty good. If you like that kind of thing. Which not everyone does.
(SHE SINGS) (TO “EVERYTHING’S COMING UP ROSES”)
I stay home. Every night.
I go around dressed in white!
I write poems — secretly—
And tonight I will get out of Amherst!
Bring my horse!! Bring a mask—
I’m not going to tell so don’t ask—
I am thrilled — goodness me—
I am going to meet Henry at Walden.
Tags: april, night, poem, rose, sing
A few Dickinson news items have drawn our attention, and might warrant yours:
- Guy Noir sings Emily Dickinson?: the Amherst Bulletin notes that Emily Dickinson was the butt of an extended joke on Garrison Keillor’s Prairie Home Companion last week, with the erstwhile P.I. Guy Noir auditioning for a role in “Stop for Death,” a Dickinson musical. Of course, this is the same Keillor whose latest CD is called “English Majors” and who holds sonnet contests, so I’m sure the joke was in good fun (Cub Scout activities kept me from hearing the show myself, alas). I seem to remember an amusing riff a few months ago that involved Henry David Thoreau, Emily Dickinson, and wood ticks; Keillor is certainly one to monitor . . .
- Dickinson Marathon in St. Paul: another story with a Minnesota connection: St. Thomas University will hold a Dickinson marathon on April 25, 8:00 AM to 8:00 PM, in the O’Shaughnessy Room of O’Shaughnessy-Frey Library Center. “The goal: To read aloud all of Dickinson’s poems — from #1 to #1,789 — between 8 a.m. and midnight. Readers can come and go as they please; stay for a half-hour or make a day of it. Participants will sit in a circle and take turns reading; listeners are welcome too.” Common Good Books–Garrison Keillor’s bookstore–has provided copies of Franklin’s edition of Dickinson; this seems like a conspiracy . . .
- Wild Nights! reviews are all around us this Spring: the Minneapolis Star Tribune weighs in (will these Minnesotans not leave poor Dickinson be?), as does the New York Times Book Review. According to the Book Review’s podcast, the NYT reviewer Brenda Wineapple has a book about Dickinson and Higginson hitting the shelves this August.
- A Summer of Hummingbirds by Christopher Benfey is the next Dickinson-related book to watch: a fascinating look into the intersections of Harriet Beecher Stowe, Mark Twain, Emily Dickinson, and Martin Johnson Heade, a naturalist and artist who specialized in hummingbirds, a creature which frequently inhabits Dickinson’s poems.
- Fleda Brown discusses “I heard a fly buzz” in her ongoing series for National Poetry Month (and you thought April was just about fools and taxes . . .)
- Finally, we hope that the “Daily” aspect of “Daily Dickinson” will return this week, with several non-poetic things coming under control here at DailyDickionson World Headquarters; stay tuned!
Tags: april, august, bee, bird, book, books, buzz, death, dying, fly, hope, Life, men, month, music, night, poem, see, sing, spring, star, summer, thought
“Whose are the little beds,” I asked,
“Which in the valleys lie?”
Some shook their heads, and others smiled,
And no one made reply.
“Perhaps they did not hear,” I said;
“I will inquire again.
Whose are the beds, the tiny beds
So thick upon the plain?”
“‘T is daisy in the shortest;
A little farther on,
Nearest the door to wake the first,
Little leontodon.
“‘T is iris, sir, and aster,
Anemone and bell,
Batschia in the blanket red,
And chubby daffodil.”
Meanwhile at many cradles
Her busy foot she plied,
Humming the quaintest lullaby
That ever rocked a child.
“Hush! Epigea wakens! –
The crocus stirs her lids,
Rhodora’s cheek is crimson, –
She’s dreaming of the woods.”
Then, turning from them, reverent,
“Their bed-time ‘t is,” she said;
“The bumble-bees will wake them
When April woods are red.”
The official Daily Dickinson 2008 Calendar is available, featuring poems and pictures that have been featured on this site.
Tags: april, bee, first, flower, poem, woods
An altered look about the hills;
A Tyrian light the village fills;
A wider sunrise in the dawn;
A deeper twilight on the lawn;
A print of a vermilion foot;
A purple finger on the slope;
A flippant fly upon the pane;
A spider at his trade again;
An added strut in chanticleer;
A flower expected everywhere;
An axe shrill singing in the woods;
Fern-odors on untravelled roads, –
All this, and more I cannot tell,
A furtive look you know as well,
And Nicodemus’ mystery
Receives its annual reply.
The official Daily Dickinson 2008 Calendar is available, featuring poems and pictures that have been featured on this site.
Tags: april, bee, flower, fly, hills, poem, sing, singing, sun, woods
