E-Text

Emily Dickinson's Collected Poems

Part One: Life 116. I measure every grief I meet

GRIEFS.


I measure every grief I meet

With analytic eyes;

I wonder if it weighs like mine,

Or has an easier size.


I wonder if they bore it long,

Or did it just begin?

I could not tell the date of mine,

It feels so old a pain.


I wonder if it hurts to live,

And if they have to try,

And whether, could they choose between,

They would not rather die.


I wonder if when years have piled --

Some thousands -- on the cause

Of early hurt, if such a lapse

Could give them any pause;


Or would they go on aching still

Through centuries above,

Enlightened to a larger pain

By contrast with the love.


The grieved are many, I am told;

The reason deeper lies, --

Death is but one and comes but once,

And only nails the eyes.


There's grief of want, and grief of cold, --

A sort they call 'despair;'

There's banishment from native eyes,

In sight of native air.


And though I may not guess the kind

Correctly, yet to me

A piercing comfort it affords

In passing Calvary,


To note the fashions of the cross,

Of those that stand alone,

Still fascinated to presume

That some are like my own.

Cite this page