“That sacred / Closet”
mansuscript scan (c. 1877)
transcript:
Johnson version:
1273
That sacred Closet when you sweep—
Entitled "Memory"—
Select a reverential Broom—
And do it silently.
'Twill be a Labor of surprise—
Besides Identity
Of other Interlocutors
A probability—
August the Dust of that Domain—
Unchallenged—let it lie—
You cannot supersede itself
But it can silence you—
top image taken from “A Foreign Country” Emily Dickinson’s Manuscripts and Their Meanings by Domhnall Mitchell Legacy 17.2 (2000) 174-186 (web version publiclly acccessible)
MS scan: “I would not paint …” & page two (c. 1862)
I would not paint—a picture—
I’d rather be the One
It’s bright impossibility
To dwell—delicious—on—
And wonder how the fingers feel
Whose rare—celestial—stir
Provokes so sweet a Torment—
Such sumptuous—Despair—
I would not talk, like Cornets—
I’d rather be the One
Raised softly to Ceilings—
And out, and easy on—
Through Villages of Ether
Myself endued Balloon
By but a lip of Metal—
The pier to my Pontoon—
Nor would I be a Poet—
It’s finer—own the Ear—
Enamored—impotent—content—
The License to revere—
A luxury so awful
What would the Dower be,
Had I the Art to stun
myself
With Bolts of Melody!
The text follows T. H. Johnson’s edition of The Poems of Emily Dickinson (Cambridge, Mass.: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1955), no. 505, vol. 2, pp. 387-388, although I have adopted two of the variants (provoked for evoked, luxury for privilege) and followed the apparent lineation of the manuscript, rather than Johnson’s, in regard to the penultimate line. –CB
The Sea said … (c. 1872)
Spatial Transcription
by Aliki Caloyeras
t he S ea said
“Come” to the Brook-
the Brook said
“let me grow ”-
the Sea said
“then you will
be a Sea”-
“I want a Brook-
Come now ”-
the Sea said
“Go” to the Sea.
the Sea said
“I am he
you cherished ”-
“Learned Waters -
Wisdom is stale
to me ” ——————
Transcription
by Aliki
Caloyeras
the Sea said
“Come” to the Brook-
the Brook said
“let me grow”-
the Sea said
“then you will
be a Sea”-
“I want a Brook-
Come now”-
the Sea said
“Go” to the Sea.
the Sea said
“I am he
you cherished”-
“Learned Waters-
Wisdom is stale
to me”———
Bianchi:
T HE S EA said “Come” to the Brook,
The Brook said “Let me grow!”
The Sea said “Then you will be a Sea—
I want a brook, Come now!”
Johnson:
1210
The Sea said "Come" to the Brook --
The Brook said "Let me grow" --
The Sea said "Then you will be a Sea --
I want a Brook -- Come now"!
The Sea said "Go" to the Sea --
The Sea said "I am he
You cherished" -- "Learned Waters --
Wisdom is stale -- to Me"
There’s a certain Slant (c. 1861)
Johnson:
258
There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons --
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes --
Heavenly Hurt, it gives us --
We can find no scar,
But internal difference,
Where the Meanings, are --
None may teach it -- Any --
'Tis the Seal Despair --
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the Air --
When it comes, the Landscape listens --
Shadows -- hold their breath --
When it goes, 'tis like the Distance
On the look of Death --
CB transcription 10.14.05:
There’s a certain Slant of light,
Winter afternoons -
that oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral tunes -
Heavenly Hurt, it gives us -
We can find no scar,
But internal difference
When the Meanings , are -
None may teach it Any -
’tis the Seal despair -
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the Air -
When it comes, the Landscape listens -
Shadows - hold their breath -
When it goes, ’tis like the distance
On the look of death -.
Compare Johnson:
258
There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons --
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes --
Heavenly Hurt, it gives us --
We can find no scar,
But internal difference,
Where the Meanings, are --
None may teach it -- Any --
'Tis the Seal Despair --
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the Air --
When it comes, the Landscape listens --
Shadows -- hold their breath --
When it goes, 'tis like the Distance
On the look of Death --
This World is not Conclusion (1862)
Johnson --
501
This World is not Conclusion.
A Species stands beyond --
Invisible, as Music --
But positive, as Sound --
It beckons, and it baffles --
Philosophy -- don’t know --
And through a Riddle, at the last --
Sagacity, must go --
To guess it, puzzles scholars --
To gain it, Men have borne
Contempt of Generations
And Crucifixion, shown --
Faith slips -- and laughs, and rallies --
Blushes, if any see --
Plucks at a twig of Evidence --
And asks a Vane, the way --
Much Gesture, from the Pulpit --
Strong Hallelujahs roll --
Narcotics cannot still the Tooth
That nibbles at the soul --