""T was the nettle of sin, 't was medicine;
No need nor seed of it here Above;

In dreams of hate true loves begin."
"True," quoth Love.

"Now, strange," quoth Sense; and "Strange," quoth

Mind;

"We saw it, and yet 't is hard to find,

-But we saw it," quoth Sense and Mind.
Stretched on the ground, beautiful-crowned

Of the piteous willow that wreathed above,
"But I cannot find where ye have found
Hell," quoth Love.

1878-79.

95

100

105

1884.

EMILY DICKINSON

(The selections from Miss Dickinson are here printed with the permission of Little, Brown & Co.]

TO FIGHT ALOUD IS VERY BRAVE

[Copyright, by Martha G. D. Bianchi)

To fight aloud is very brave;

But gallanter, I know,

Who charge within the bosom

The cavalry of woe.

Who win, and nations do not see;
Who fall, and none observe;
Whose dying eyes no country

5

Regards with patriot love.

We trust in plumed procession
For such the angels go,

Rank after rank, with even feet
And uniforms of snow.

I DIED FOR BEAUTY

[Copyright, by Martha G. D. Bianchi]

I died for beauty, but was scarce

Adjusted in the tomb

When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.

1891.

ΙΟ

He questioned softly why I failed:
"For beauty," I replied.

"And I for truth-the two are one;
We brethren are," he said.

And so, as kinsmen met a night,

We talked between the rooms

Until the moss had reached our lips

And covered up our names.

THE WAY I READ A LETTER 'S THIS

[Copyright, by Martha G. D. Bianchi)

The way I read a letter 's this:
"T is first I lock the door,

And push it with my fingers next,
For transport it be sure;

And then I go the furthest off
To counteract a knock;

Then draw my little letter forth,
And softly pick its lock;

Then, glancing narrow at the wall
And narrow at the floor,

For firm conviction of a mouse

Not exorcised before,

Peruse how infinite I am

To-no one that you know!

And sigh for lack of heaven-but not

The heaven the creeds bestow.

THE LOVERS

[Copyright, by Martha G. D. Bianchil

The rose did caper on her cheek,

Her bodice rose and fell;

Her pretty speech, like drunken men,
Did stagger pitiful;

1892.

He glanced with rapid eyes

That hurried all abroad

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.

ΤΟ

15

20

NOTES