Favorite Poetry: In a Library

I'm going to honestly confess that, having noticed that I haven't posted in forever, I ambled over to Project Gutenberg and scanned Dickinson poetry until I found something suitable.  My life has been pretty full the past few weeks - and it will continue to be so at least until October - hence the neglect of this blog.  Sorry about that.  But anyway, though I have just discovered it, this is a lovely poem (what poem of Emily Dickinson's isn't, really?) and I'm glad I found it.

In a Library

by Emily Dickinson 

A precious, mouldering pleasure 't is 

To meet an antique book, 

In just the dress his century wore; 

A privilege, I think, 

 His venerable hand to take, 

And warming in our own, 

A passage back, or two, to make 

To times when he was young.

His quaint opinions to inspect, 

His knowledge to unfold 

On what concerns our mutual mind, 

The literature of old; 

What interested scholars most, 

What competitions ran 

When Plato was a certainty. 

And Sophocles a man; 

When Sappho was a living girl, 

And Beatrice wore 

The gown that Dante deified. 

Facts, centuries before, 

He traverses familiar, 

As one should come to town 

And tell you all your dreams were true; 

He lived where dreams were sown.

 

His presence is enchantment, 

You beg him not to go; 

Old volumes shake their vellum heads 

And tantalize, just so.

Pictures via Tumblr.

Things Learned

Having come across this post by Raewyn while lazing about reading other people's posts when I was supposed to be writing my own, I thought I'd join in on this "things learned in August" link-up, because I have learned a lot of things in August, both important and very non-important.  I am also supremely glad that it will be over tomorrow, so I'm celebrating.  Visit the original post here.

1. I was not meant to join the Daughters of Mary.  I was following my own will in pursuing it, not God's.

2.  You actually have to work to be holy, and you don't get to just choose to not be.  And you can't do anything by yourself but need God's grace if you're going to have any strength at all.  It's like expecting to have energy without ever eating.

3.  Speaking of eating, I also learned that pesto paninis are the best Friday dinner ever. All you do is put provolone, pesto, red onions, tomatoes, avocado, and red or orange bell peppers in a roll and stick it in a buttered pan or panini press until it's browned and melty and beautiful.  Then you eat it.  And it's delicious.

4.  I am super-duper unbelievably lucky to know two people who love literature at least as much as I do, and I am even more blessed to be being paid by one of them to listen to some absolutely lovely literature lectures and write about them.  It's temporary, but it's my first job and a dream job - one I never dreamed of, but a dream job nevertheless.  The other person is subjected to small bursts of email-ranting on Dickinson, Tolkien, Dickens, and the like, and far from objecting, responds in kind.

5.  Speaking of literature, I learned through the aforementioned lectures that Emily Dickinson is basically queen of the poetical universe.  She is definitely my favorite poet now.

6.  Sleeping in is way overrated.  Enough said.

7.  Bringing up authors again, one biggish thing I've learned in August is that spiritual reading is actually...not painful.  I've read a ton of religious books (partly because the only way I can make myself behave remotely well is to constantly remind myself by reading), and the most eye-opening spiritual book I've read this month was definitely The Life of Saint Teresa of Avila -- her autobiography. (Note: I have not read the version in the link and don't know if it's altered or a weird translation or anything, so don't blame me if it is.)  That book is just -- stunning.

8.  I am not cut out for being a stay-at-home daughter.  I have always been an independent person and I always told my mom I'd move out as soon as I turned eighteen.  That's not exactly happening, but I'm still joining a convent as soon as I find one, so hopefully I will still move out when I'm eighteen.  I never had any desire to be a stay-at-home daughter, and having finished school and being "almost grown-up" has just intensified that opinion. 

9.  I love English country dancing/square dancing.  I knew this already, but an impromptu, music-less lesson in the park by one of the girls from church a few weeks ago reminded me.   I don't know what it is about it, but it's so much fun.

10.  I am an autumn girl, and there's nothing I can do about it.  I was born in October, but I always insisted that I liked summer best.  And while I do like summer, it's always tainted by air conditioning and boredom and (up till now) the stress of overdue schoolwork.  The *idea* of summer is still my favorite, but in the real world, fall is best - the part that still above 45 degrees, that is.  I am looking forward to the cooler weather.

Favorite Poetry: Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson is one of my favorite poets.  I quite envy her ability to express herself in such short poems.  I read once that she wrote all these little pieces during her life and locked them in her desk drawer, where they were found and published after her death.  She never knew she would be famous.

Since they are so short, I'm posting two at once.

This one particularly struck me when I first read it.  I had never thought of victory or success in the way Emily Dickinson portrays it before.

I couldn't find a picture to go with this piece, so I made this with Pixlr.

Success is Counted Sweetest

By Emily Dickinson

Success is counted sweetest

By those who ne'er succeed.

To comprehend a nectar

Requires the sorest need.

Not one of all the purple host

Who took the flag today,

Can tell the definition,

So plain, of victory,

As he defeated, dying,

On whose forbidden ear

The distant strains of triumph

Break, agonizing clear. 

It took me a couple re-readings before I understood the point of this second one.  It's the essence of poetical thinking, really. 

via my pinterest

To Make a Prairie

By Emily Dickinson 

To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee - 

One clover, and a bee,

And reverie.

The reverie alone will do

If bees are few.