65 Oh, what is abroad in the marsh and the terminal sea? From the weighing of fate and the sad discussion of sin, By the length and the breadth and the sweep of the marshes of Glynn. Ye marshes, how candid and simple and nothing-withholding and Ye publish yourselves to the sky and offer yourselves to the sea! As the marsh-hen secretly builds on the watery sod, In the freedom that fills all the space 'twixt the marsh and the skies; 70 75 I will heartily lay me a-hold on the greatness of God; And the sea lends large, as the marsh: lo, out of his plenty the sea 80 Look how the grace of the sea doth go About and about through the intricate channels that flow Here and there, Till his waters have flooded the uttermost creeks and the low-lying lanes, And the marsh is meshed with a million veins, That like as with rosy and silvery essences flow Farewell, my lord Sun! The creeks overflow: a thousand rivulets run "Twixt the roots of the sod; the blades of the marsh-grass stir; How still the plains of the waters be! The tide is in his ecstasy; The tide is at his highest height: And it is night. And now from the Vast of the Lord will the waters of sleep Roll in on the souls of men; But who will reveal to our waking ken The forms that swim and the shapes that creep Under the waters of sleep? And I would I could know what swimmeth below when the tide comes in On the length and the breadth of the marvellous marshes of Glynn. 105 1879. 1878. HOW LOVE LOOKED FOR HELL To heal his heart of long-time pain, "Now what to thee most strange may be?" Then Mind rode in and Sense rode out; ""T is here, 't is here,” and spurreth in fear And plucketh the Prince: "Come, come, 't is here—" "Where?" quoth Love. "Not far, not far," said shivering Sense, As they rode on; "a short way hence -But seventy paces hence: Look, King, dost see where suddenly This road doth dip from the height above? Cold blew a mouldy wind by me" ("Cold?" quoth Love). 5 10 15 20 "As I rode down, and the River was black, And yon-side, lo! an endless wrack And rabble of souls," sighed Sense; "Their eyes upturned and begged and burned 25 "Nay!" quoth Love. "Yea, yea, sweet Prince; thyself shalt see, Wilt thou but down this slope with me; "T is palpable," whispered Sense. -At the foot of the hill a living rill Shone, and the lilies shone white above: "But now 't was black, 't was a river, this rill" ("Black?" quoth Love). "Ay, black, but lo! the lilies grow; And yon-side where was woe, was woe, -Where the rabble of souls," cried Sense, "Did shrivel and turn and beg and burn, Thrust back in the brimstone from above Is banked of violet, rose and fern!" "How?" quoth Love. "For lakes of pain, yon pleasant plain Of woods and grass and yellow grain Doth ravish the soul and sense: 30 35 40 45 "In the heart of sin doth hell begin: "T is not below, 't is not above, It lieth within, it lieth within" "I saw a man sit by a corse; Hell's in the murderer's breast: remorse! Thus clamoured his mind to his mind. Not fleshly dole is the sinner's goal; Hell's not below, not yet above, 'T is fixed in the ever-damnèd soul—” "Fixed?" quoth Love. "Fixed: follow me, would'st thou but see; He weepeth under yon willow tree, Fast chained to his corse," quoth Mind. Full soon they passed, for they rode fast, Where the piteous willow bent above. "Now shall I see at last, at last, Hell," quoth Love. There when they came, Mind suffered shame: "These be the same and not the same," A-wondering whispered Mind. Lo, face by face two spirits pace "Read me two Dreams that linger long, Dim as returns of old-time song That flicker about the mind. I dreamed (how deep in mortal sleep!) "In dreams, again, I plucked a flower That clung with pain and stung with power, Yea, nettled me, body and mind.” 60 65 70 75 80 85 90 ""T was the nettle of sin, 't was medicine; No need nor seed of it here Above; In dreams of hate true loves begin." "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. 1878-79. 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 scc; Regards with patriot love. We trust in plumed procession Rank after rank, with even feet 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 1891. 5 10 |