By
William E. Spear
Volume 1, Issue 24
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Full Transcript –
A FORCE OF POETS, PODCAST EPISODE TWO – Emily Dickinson
ORIGINAL DATE: 13 June 2023
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The next poet wrote about the bigness of the brain, the mystery of dawn, and the power of a smile.
Find out who and the lines . . .
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. . . here on The 3:57 by William E. Spear.
Hello my name is William Spear and this is our series titled A FORCE OF POETS.
Our second poet is Emily Dickinson.
She was born in December of 1830, in Amherst, Massachusetts U.S.A. and died in 1886. Her work was first published in 1890 and readers have experienced a collection of writing which includes lines such as the following:
– “The brain is wider than the sky.”
– Or, “Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door.”
– And, “They might not need me; but they might. // I’ll let my head be just in sight; // a smile as small as mine might be // precisely their necessity.”
This episode focuses on two poems: SUMMER’S ARMIES and THE PURPLE CLOVER.
From A FORCE OF POETS . . . this is Emily Dickinson.
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Summer’s Armies
Some rainbow coming from the fair!
Some vision of the world Cashmere
I confidently see!
Or else a peacock’s purple train,
Feather by feather, on the plain
Fritters itself away!
The dreamy butterflies bestir,
Lethargic pools resume the whir
Of last year’s sundered tune.
From some old fortress on the sun
Baronial bees march, one by one,
In murmuring platoon!
The robins stand as thick to-day
As flakes of snow stood yesterday,
On fence and roof and twig.
The orchis binds her feather on
For her old lover, Don the Sun,
Revisiting the bog!
Without commander, countless, still,
The regiment of wood and hill
In bright detachment stand.
Behold! Whose multitudes are these?
The children of whose turbaned seas,
Or what Circassian land?
Dickinson’s next is . . .
The Purple Clover
There is a flower that bees prefer,
And butterflies desire;
To gain the purple democrat
The humming-birds aspire.
And whatsoever insect pass,
A honey bears away
Proportioned to his several dearth
And her capacity.
Her face is rounder than the moon,
And ruddier than the gown
Of orchis in the pasture,
Or rhododendron worn.
She doth not wait for June;
Before the world is green
Her sturdy little countenance
Against the wind is seen,
Contending with the grass,
Near kinsman to herself,
For privilege of sod and sun,
Sweet litigants for life.
And when the hills are full,
And newer fashions blow,
Doth not retract a single spice
For pang of jealousy.
Her public is the noon,
Her providence the sun,
Her progress by the bee proclaimed
In sovereign, swerveless tune.
The bravest of the host,
Surrendering the last,
Nor even of defeat aware
When cancelled by the frost.
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You’ve just listened to Emily Dickinson the Second Poet of A FORCE OF POETS.
Theme music is through the courtesy of QubeSounds at PixaBay.
The Three Fifty-seven is written and produced by William Spear.
Thank you for listening.
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