My Faith that Dark Adores-
The feet of people walking home
With gayer sandals go –
The Crocus – till she rises
The Vassal of the snow –
The lips at Hallelujah
Long years of practise bore
Till bye and bye these Bargemen
Walked singing on the shore.
Pearls are the Diver’s Farthings
Extorted from the Sea –
Pinions – the Seraph’s wagon
Pedestrian once – as we-
Night is the morning’s Canvas
Larceny – legacy –
Death, but our rapt attention
To Immortality.
My figures fail to tell me
How far the Village lies-
Whose peasants are the Angels-
Whose Cantons dot the skies-
My classics veil their faces –
My faith that Dark adores-
Which from its solemn abbeys
such resurrection pours.
My Thoughts
Emily obviously loved to read and educate herself, so to me her “classics” and “figures” are the books and characters in her novels that she studies. Her faith is in herself and her poetry which she works on in the dark. The dark adores her presence working on her poetry. “Which from its solemn abbeys” is the day to day activities (dishes, laundry, etc.). But then as she walks into her room where she told her sister “This is where freedom is” she is resurrected, alive and free again in poetry.
