As Lightning to the Children eased With explanation kind The Truth must dazzle gradually Or every man be blind
The poem likens truth to lightning: sudden, overwhelming. Like a child learns the meaning of lightning bit by bit, truth must be delivered gently. Otherwise, the shock is too much
Tell all the truth but tell it slant — Success in Circuit lies Too bright for our infirm Delight The Truth's superb surprise
Dickinson tells us to reveal the whole truth, but indirectly. The truth, she suggest is too brilliant. "too bright for our infirm delight".
There's a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons – That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes
Dickinson turns a simple moment of winter light into something deep and heavy.
When it comes, the Landscape listens – Shadows – hold their breath – When it goes, 'tis like the Distance On the look of Death
Nature seems to feel the strange stillness of the light. When it fades it leaves a sense of loss. Like a brief brush with something beyond us
God preaches, a noted Clergyman – And the sermon is never long, So instead of getting to Heaven, at last – I’m going, all along.
This ending captures what the PBS video calls Dickinson's "immediate presence", her ability to make eternity feel close. Instead of waiting for heaven. at last, she experiences it all along. It's a radical simplicity; her faith is living, ongoing, and joyful.
Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice – I, just wear my Wings – And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church, Our little Sexton – sings.
Here, Emily keeps her tone playful but quietly defiant. In the video, the curator mentions that Dickinson's strength in creating her own language of beauty and belief; how she turned small private moments into acts of spiritual freedom.
And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence are more to me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose.
This is a powerful sentence. You're not only speaking to present readers but to future people that will cross the ferry as well. You suggest that you feel connected across time.
Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes, how curious you are to me!
Here, you shift to people; ordinary folks in "usual costumes". You are noticing them and you're calling them curious. This surprised me. It's like you're saying life around me is fascinating, even when it seems like a routine.
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
The verb “loafe” is wonderful. It's not idle in a lazy sense only, but a kind of active repose, observing the world. You recline, but you pay attention.
The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the distillation, it is odorless, It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it, I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked
I like how you talk about the air, it's not fancy or perfumed, it's just real and natural. When you say you'll go to the woods and be "undisguised and naked", it feels like you want to be your true self.
Have you reckon’d a thousand acres much? have you reckon’d the earth much? Have you practis’d so long to learn to read? Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?
These questions sound like you're challenging the reader and me to think differently. You're asking if we really know the earth or not. Or if we just think we do