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?

Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,
Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine!

Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain,
For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain.
All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air,
God hath made nothing single but thee in His world so fair!
The bride, and then the bridegroom, the two, and then the one,
Adam, and Eve, his consort, the moon, and then the sun;
The life doth prove the precept, who obey shall happy be,
Who will not serve the sovereign, be hanged on fatal tree.
The high do seek the lowly, the great do seek the small,
None cannot find who seeketh, on this terrestrial ball;
The bee doth court the flower, the flower his suit receives,
And they make merry wedding, whose guests are hundred leaves;
The wind doth woo the branches, the branches they are won,
And the father fond demandeth the maiden for his son.
The storm doth walk the seashore humming a mournful tune,
The wave with eye so pensive, looketh to see the moon,
Their spirits meet together, they make their solemn vows,
No more he singeth mournful, her sadness she doth lose.
The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride,
Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide;
Earth is a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so true,
And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth in vain to sue.
Now to the application, to the reading of the roll,
To bringing thee to justice, and marshalling thy soul:
Thou art a human solo, a being cold, and lone,
Wilt have no kind companion, thou reap’st what thou hast sown.
Hast never silent hours, and minutes all too long,
And a deal of sad reflection, and wailing instead of song?
There’s Sarah, and Eliza, and Emeline so fair,
And Harriet, and Susan, and she with curling hair!
Thine eyes are sadly blinded, but yet thou mayest see
Six true, and comely maidens sitting upon the tree;
Approach that tree with caution, then up it boldly climb,
And seize the one thou lovest, nor care for space, or time!
Then bear her to the greenwood, and build for her a bower,
And give her what she asketh, jewel, or bird, or flower –
And bring the fife, and trumpet, and beat upon the drum –
And bid the world Goodmorrow, and go to glory home!

The bat is dun with wrinkled wings
Like fallow article,
And not a song pervades his lips,
Or none perceptible.

His small umbrella, quaintly halved,
Describing in the air
An arc alike inscrutable, –
Elate philosopher!

Deputed from what firmament
Of what astute abode,
Empowered with what malevolence
Auspiciously withheld.

To his adroit Creator
Ascribe no less the praise;
Beneficent, believe me,
His eccentricities.

Summer for thee grant I may be
When summer days are flown!
Thy music still when whippoorwill
And oriole are done!

For thee to bloom, I’ll skip the tomb
And sow my blossoms o’er!
Pray gather me, Anemone,
Thy flower forevermore!

Stanford University’s Continuing Studies program presents several Dickinson-inspired events this winter:

Soul at White Heat

January 30, 7:00 PM, Dinkelspiel Auditoreum

Dramatic readings of Dickinson’s poems and letters performed by Word for Word and other theater groups, 19th-century music performed on period instruments, and a lively conversation among Dickinson scholars.

The Music Emily Heard

February 13, 7:30 PM, Campbell Recital Hall, Braun Music Center

An evening of parlor music, hymns, and popular song recreates the musical landscape of Dickinson’s time and place. David Giovacchini and ensemble will perform.

The Ghoul of Amherst

March 12, 7:00 pm, Roble Studio Theater

JoAnne Winter of Word for Word will perform Amy Freed’s “The Ghoul of Amherst”, described as “a short, comic vignette set during Emily’s death bed visit to a dying school chum. It addresses with admiration and humor Miss Dickinson’s more grisly preoccupations with the mysteries of the grave.” (This one sounds like particular fun; anyone who has been following along with the mostly-daily poems can’t help but notice that there’s a striking mixture of humor and horror in Dickinson’s meditations on mortality. We here at Daily Dickinson will be doing a little research on Ms. Freed’s work.)

If you’re in the Bay Area this winter, these look like a great way to spend some evenings; they’re all free and open to the public. Any Daily Dickinson readers who attend can drop us a line and give us a review.

Before you thought of spring,
Except as a surmise,
You see, God bless his suddenness,
A fellow in the skies
Of independent hues,
A little weather-worn,
Inspiriting habiliments
Of indigo and brown.

With specimens of song,
As if for you to choose,
Discretion in the interval,
With gay delays he goes
To some superior tree
Without a single leaf,
And shouts for joy to nobody
But his seraphic self!

The official Daily Dickinson 2008 Calendar is available, featuring poems and pictures that have been featured on this site.

From Melbourne, Australia, comes word of another artistic interpretation of Emily Dickinson, this time soprano Helen Noonan’s “lieder-opera” Voicing Emily. According to The Age:

Voicing Emily explores various aspects of her life and times, including the impact of the American civil war. . . . The work also explores the two loves of the poet’s life — her sister-in-law, Susan, and a newspaper editor, Samuel Bowles. Both relationships were unconsummated and Noonan speculates that consummation might have brought closure to the infinite possibilities that Dickinson saw.

Three sopranos perform Dickinson at various ages: Noonan is joined by Theresa Borg and Caitlin Fowler. The songs that make up the piece were commissioned from three composers, including Eddie Perfect, better known for his satirical political songs.

Australia is quite a hotbed of Dickinsonian efforts; the Dickinson Periodicals Project, based at Macquarie University, was started in 1993 to “study the religious, philosophical and social debates that were represented in Emily Dickinson’s periodical reading”; and Mark Ragg’s The Dickinson Papers was published last year by Random House Australia to much acclaim. Dickinson once referred to herself as “the only Kangaroo among the Beauty”, notes the Dickinson Periodicals Project, so perhaps there’s some deep tie to Oz that makes her so well-loved down under.

Robert Pinsky, former United States Poet Laureate and poetry editor at Slate, discusses the task of popularizing poetry in a country where poetry is dead. Pinsky’s interests are wide-ranging, though: in addition to championing Dickinson (and Sylvia Plath, Langston Hughes, and Walt Whitman), he praises “The Simpsons” and “The Colbert Report” (“I think we’re in a great period of comedy, maybe our greatest period of comedy in American history”), Big Mama Thornton, Buddy Guy, and Professor Longhair.

Of particular interest is his useful distinction between a great song and a great poem:

The crucial distinction for me between something that may be a great song and poetry is, Does it depend upon the performer? The poem must sound like a poem in the voice of anyone who chooses to say it aloud.

To see and hear great poems in many voices, take a look at Pinsky’s Favorite Poem Project, which features normal folks reflecting on and reciting great words.

The bustle in a house
The morning after death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted upon earth, –

The sweeping up the heart,
And putting love away
We shall not want to use again
Until eternity.

Welcome, Andrew Sullivan readers!

I hope you enjoy browsing the poems and pictures here, and hope you make a habit of dropping by.

One ought every day at least to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Over the last couple weeks, DailyDickinson.com has been blessed with incoming links from a few of the heavy hitters in the blogosphere: from DailyKos’ “Literature for Kossaks” page about Miss Dickinson, and yesterday from Maud Newton and Edward Champion. The effect, for the statistically-minded, can be seen below:

By the end of the day, the number of page loads actually topped out at 101.

For bloggers like Kos, Newton, and Champion, 100 hits a day would be cause for worry–”Where are all my lovely visitors?” they’d fret–but for Daily Dickinson, well, it’s like having the Super Bowl land in the middle of your tea party. Though with fewer scones, of course.

I hope a few of you who’ve wandered here by way of the Big Sites wander back occasionally. Goethe advised,

One ought, each day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture and, if possible, speak a few reasonable words.

We aim for two out of four at Daily Dickinson–a poem, guaranteed to be good, and a picture, sometimes fine. The rest are up to you.