Dickinson’s use of stars, the night sky, and other celestial effects never ceases to take the edge off occasional anguish (about which I know nothing, of course). If nothing else, ruminate on the tender eloquence of “just as the Night keeps fetching stars” and “as slightly as the Routes of Stars”…
Here are some curated Emily excerpts for the weary mind, with her original spelling intact:
“I’ve nothing Else, to bring, you know—
So I keep bringing these—
Just as the Night keeps fetching stars—
To our familiar eyes.
Maybe—we shouldn’t mind them—
Unless they didn’t come
Then—maybe it would puzzle us
To find our way Home
(F253A)
“As slightly as the Routes of Stars —
Ourselves—asleep below—
We know that their superior Eyes
Include us—as they go—
(FR771, stanza 2, variant)
“The Moon was but a Chin of Gold
A night or two ago—
And now she turns Her perfect Face
Opon the World below—
(F735B, stanza 1)
“Contained in this short Life
Are magical extents
The soul returning soft at night
To steal securer thence
(F1175B, partial)
“On that specific Pillow
Our projects flit away—
The Night’s tremendous Morrow
And whether sleep will stay
Or usher us— a stranger—
To situations new
The effort to comprise it
Is all the soul can do—
(F1554A)
“Her sweet Weight on my Heart a Night
Had scarcely deigned to lie—
When, stirring, for Belief’s delight,
My Bride had slipped away—
If ‘twas a Dream—made solid—just—
The Heaven to confirm—
Or if Myself were dreamed of Her—
The power to presume—
(F611A, partial)
“The Night was wide—and furnished scant
With but a single Star—
That often as a Cloud it met—
Blew out itself—for fear—
(F617A, stanza 1)
“I had no cause to be awake—
My Best—was gone to sleep—
(F662A, partial)
“Permission to recant—
Permission to forget—
We turned our backs upon the Sun
For perjury of that—
Not Either—noticed Death—
Of Paradise—aware—
Each other’s Face—was all the Disc
Each other’s setting—saw—
(F708A, partial)
“Withdrew the Sun—to other Wests—
Withdrew the furthest Star
Before Decision—stooped to speech—
And then—be audibler
The Answer of the Sea unto
The Motion of the Moon—
Herself adjust Her Tides—unto—
Could I—do else—with Mine?
(F712A, partial)
“Nor does the Night forget
A Lamp for Each—to set—
Wicks wide away—
The Midnight’s Dusky Arms
Clasp Hemispheres, and Homes
(TF765A, partial stanza 2, partial stanza 3)
“Lightly stepped a yellow star
To it’s lofty place
Loosed the Moon her silver hat
From her lustral Face
All of evening softly lit
As an Astral Hall
(F1698A, partial)
“My best Acquaintances are those
With Whom I spoke no Word—
The Stars that stated come to Town
Esteemed Me never rude
Although to their Celestial Call
I failed to make reply—
My constant—reverential Face
Sufficient Courtesy
(F1062A)
And a last that holds a touch of encouragement and humor:
“We grow accustomed to the Dark—
When Light is put away—
As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp
To witness her Good bye—
A moment—We uncertain step
For newness of the night—
Then fit our Vision to the Dark—
And meet the road—erect—
And so of larger—Darknesses—
Those Evenings of the Brain—
When not a Moon disclose a sign—
Or Star—come out—within—
The Bravest—grope a little—
And sometimes hit a Tree
Directly in the Forehead—
But as they learn to see—
Either the Darkness alters—
Or something in the sight
Adjusts itself to Midnight—
And Life steps almost straight.
(F428A)