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“Miss Emily” is on holiday this week

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Busy week here at Farther Along Farm. Mr. Big Food’s Gulf Coast Philosophy and Neuroscience (Virtual) Workshop starts Friday and runs through Sunday noon. For us, that will take place in at his office on campus b/c he just doesn’t want to chance it with our internet. Not that there’s anything wrong with our internet,

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Miss Emily | Tie the Strings to my Life, My Lord

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Tie the strings to my life, my Lord,Then I am ready to go!Just a look at the horses —Rapid! That will do! Put me in on the firmest side,So I shall never fall;For we must ride to the Judgment,And it’s partly down hill. But never I mind the bridges,And never I mind the sea;Held fast

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Miss Emily | Put up my lute!

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Put up my lute!What of—my Music!Since the sole ear I cared to charm—Passive—as Granite—laps My Music—Sobbing—will suit—as well as psalm! Would but the “Memnon” of the Desert—Teach me the strainThat vanquished Him—When He—surrendered to the Sunrise—Maybe—that—would awaken—them! —Emily Dickinson (1830-1886; written 1861, published 1935) The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson Only $1.99 on Kindle!

Miss Emily | Over the fence

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Over the fence—Strawberries—grow—Over the fence—I could climb—if I tried, I know—Berries are nice! But—if I stained my Apron—God would certainly scold!Oh, dear,—I guess if He were a Boy—He’d—climb—if He could! —Emily Dickinson (1830-1886; written 1861, published 1945) The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson

Miss Emily | She sweeps with many-colored Brooms

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She sweeps with many-colored Brooms–And leaves the Shreds behind–Oh, Housewife in the Evening West–Come back, and dust the pond! You dropped a Purple Ravelling in–You dropped an Amber thread–And now you’ve littered all the EastWith Duds of Emerald! And still she plies her spotted Brooms,And still the Aprons fly,Till Brooms fade softly into stars–And then

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Miss Emily | Safe in their Alabaster Chambers

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Safe in their Alabaster Chambers—Untouched by MorningAnd untouched by Noon—Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection—Rafter of satin,And Roof of stone. Light laughs the breezeIn her Castle above them—Babbles the Bee in a stolid Ear,Pipe the Sweet Birds in ignorant cadence—Ah, what sagacity perished here! —Emily Dickinson (1830-1886; 1959 version, published 1862) Safe in their Alabaster

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Miss Emily | What is– “Paradise”–

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What is — “Paradise” —Who live there —Are they “Farmers” —Do they “hoe” —Do they know that this is “Amherst” —And that I — am coming — too — Do they wear “new shoes” — in “Eden” —Is it always pleasant — there —Won’t they scold us — when we’re homesick —Or tell God —

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Miss Emily | I should not dare to leave my friend

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I should not dare to leave my friend,Because — because if he should dieWhile I was gone — and I — too late —Should reach the Heart that wanted me — If I should disappoint the eyesThat hunted — hunted so — to see —And could not bear to shut untilThey “noticed” me — they

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Miss Emily | The Skies can’t keep their secret!

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The Skies can’t keep their secret!They tell it to the Hills —The Hills just tell the Orchards —And they — the Daffodils! A Bird — by chance — that goes that way —Soft overhears the whole —If I should bribe the little Bird —Who knows but she would tell? I think I won’t — however

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Miss Emily | What shall I do– it whimpers so–

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What shall I do — it whimpers so —This little Hound within the HeartAll day and night with bark and start —And yet, it will not go —Would you untie it, were you me —Would it stop whining — if to Thee —I sent it — even now? It should not tease you —By your

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Miss Emily | I lost a World– the other day!

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I lost a World — the other day!Has Anybody found?You’ll know it by the Row of StarsAround its forehead bound. A Rich man — might not notice it —Yet — to my frugal Eye,Of more Esteem than Ducats —Oh find it — Sir — for me! —Emily Dickinson (1830-1886; written 1860, first published 1890) The Complete

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Miss Emily | As if some little Arctic flower

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As if some little Arctic flowerUpon the polar hem—Went wandering down the LatitudesUntil it puzzled cameTo continents of summer—To firmaments of sun—To strange, bright crowds of flowers—And birds, of foreign tongue!I say, As if this little flowerTo Eden, wandered in—What then? Why nothing,Only, your inference therefrom! —Emily Dickinson (1830-1886; written c. 1860, first published 1890) The

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Miss Emily | On such a night, or such a night

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On such a night, or such a night,Would anybody careIf such a little figureSlipped quiet from its chair— So quiet—Oh how quiet,That nobody might knowBut that the little figureRocked softer—to and fro— On such a dawn, or such a dawn—Would anybody sighThat such a little figureToo sound asleep did lie For Chanticleer to wake it—Or

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Miss Emily | Have you got a Brook in your little heart–

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Have you got a Brook in your little heart,Where bashful flowers blow,And blushing birds go down to drink,And shadows tremble so— And nobody knows, so still it flows,That any brook is there,And yet your little draught of lifeIs daily drunken there— Why, look out for the little brook in March,When the rivers overflow,And the snows

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Miss Emily | Besides the Autumn poets sing

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Besides the Autumn poets singA few prosaic daysA little this side of the snowAnd that side of the Haze— A few incisive Mornings—A few Ascetic Eves—Gone—Mr. Bryant’s “Golden Rod”—And Mr. Thomson’s “sheaves.” Still, is the bustle in the Brook—Sealed are the spicy valves—Mesmeric fingers softly touchThe Eyes of many Elves— Perhaps a squirrel may remain—My

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Miss Emily | The Bee is not afraid of me

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The bee is not afraid of me,I know the butterfly;The pretty people in the woodsReceive me cordially. The brooks laugh louder when I come,The breezes madder play.Wherefore, mine eyes, thy silver mists?Wherefore, O summer’s day? —Emily Dickinson (1830-1886; written c. 1859, first published 1890) The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson

Miss Emily | Before the ice is in the pools–

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Before the ice is in the pools —Before the skaters go,Or any check at nightfallIs tarnished by the snow — Before the fields have finished,Before the Christmas tree,Wonder upon wonderWill arrive to me! What we touch the hems ofOn a summer’s day —What is only walkingJust a bridge away — That which sings so —

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Miss Emily | Garlands for Queens

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Garland for Queens, may be Garland for Queens, may be–Laurels– for rare degreeOf soul or sword.Ah– but remembering me–Ah– but remembering thee–Nature in chivalry–Nature in charity–Nature in equity–This Rose ordained! —Emily Dickinson (1830-1886; written 1858, first published 1945) Only seven of her poems were published in her life time. None were titled, thus the titles are

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Miss Emily | If recollecting were forgetting

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If recollecting were forgetting,Then I remember not.And if forgetting, recollecting,How near I had forgot.And if to miss, were merry,And to mourn, were gay,How very blithe the fingersThat gathered this, Today! —Emily Dickinson (1830-1886; If recollecting were forgetting written 1858, first published 1894) FYI. We are on page 31 of the 700+ page The Complete Poems of

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Miss Emily | It’s all I have to bring today–

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It’s all I have to bring today –This, and my heart beside –This, and my heart, and all the fields –And all the meadows wide –Be sure you count – should I forgetSome one the sum could tell –This, and my heart, and all the BeesWhich in the Clover dwell. —Emily Dickinson (1830-1886; It’s all I

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