On Seas of Daffodil—
Fantastic Sailors—mingle—
And then—the Wharf is still!
F296
(1862) 265
No one does sunsets better than Dickinson. I wonder if Amherst sunsets
are still so colorful. Where I’ve lived sunsets are primarily red, pink, and
gold, but the ones she describes often have purple. This one does, too. Here
she sees great ships, large purple clouds, gently tossing in their moorings. The sea beneath them is tinted golden, "Daffodil," from the setting sun. The mingling and fantastic sailors are no doubt smaller clouds that move among the larger ship-like ones, their shapes constantly changing. When the sun sets the sky turns dark and "the Wharf is still!"
The
poem contains just the single image, the sky mirroring a harbor but in gorgeous sunset colors.
Thank you for the enlightening commentary on this little gem of a poem about the visual splendour of the sky at sunset.
ReplyDeleteIt's wonderful reading the poem aloud as one is aware of the effect of the iambic tetrameter, especially in the first line which mirrors the oscillation of a moored ship gently rocking on calm waters.
The poem's atmosphere of solace and contentment is palpably evoked by the adverb 'gently' in line 1, and also phonetically by repetition of the lilting and lulling 's', 'p', 'l', 't' and 'd' sounds in the first two lines.
The fact that Dickinson has again employed the metaphor of the sea to represent the sky is very apt, as ships float in the sea just as weightless clouds do in the sky. Dickinson's use of the plural in her metaphors ('Ships' and 'Seas') further enhances the abundance and immensity of the sky.
The contrast between the richness of the purple clouds and the golden yellow of the sky, as suggested by the noun 'Daffodil', is particularly striking. As an early, vibrant spring flower, the word 'Daffodil' adds to the poem's air of contentment. Yet the reference to a flower, an overt symbol of transience, also suggests the fleeting nature of this particular resplendent sunset that is soon to fade. Indeed, it is no coincidence that the word 'Daffodil' rhymes with the final exclaimation 'Still!', suggesting the inevitable fading of the sunset and, by subtle implication, the transience of life that ultimately becomes muted and inert. (This connection of man and nature is heightened by the fact that Dickinson has described the fading clouds in human terms, referring to them as 'Sailors'.)
It certainly is amazing what Dickinson can do with her 'palette' of words which hold such powers of suggestion.
Thank you -- All great points -- I particularly like your noticing the iambic tetrameter which really does set the poem rocking. And I hadn't noticed, or if I did I didn't discuss the 'Wharf' at the end. It surely does double duty for both the ships and sailers that come to rest as well as for all of us who must go into that good night ourselves someday.
DeleteYes, I agree that the image of the 'Wharf' that becomes still and inert certainly carries a dual implication, suggesting both the sun and clouds disappearing beyond the horizon, and the obliteration of life in general. The stillness and mutedness of the final line is especially evocative, slightly poignant even, due to its sharp contrast with the former bustling interaction of the harbour, as described by the verb 'mingle'. All the verve and vitality of life has been erased by the onset of night, a sentiment heightened by the monosyllabic words of the final line which quell the poem's lulling and lilting rhythm, and lay it to rest.
ReplyDeleteRomantic era sunsets WERE particularly vivid, due to volcanic ash from several cataclysmic eruptions worldwide. The Hudson River School artists and their sunsets might not have been hyperbole, after all, nor were ED purple sunsets.
ReplyDeleteGreat point. I hadn't thought of it ever before! Even with ED's various references to volcanic eruptions.
DeleteThat was later
DeleteWrong its about a bee.
ReplyDeleteYou really should back this up with some explanation of how it might be about a bee.
DeleteI lived in Amherst for five years, but alas I was young and cannot remember any of the sunsets, especially the purple ones. I would give much if not everything, for even a brief glance...
ReplyDeleteHave you any idea about the wharf she had in mind? She visited Boston in 1846, so maybe saw the sea close to -
ReplyDeleteThere were “large” volcanic eruptions (VEI of 4 on a logarithmic scale) in 1860 (Iceland) and 1861 (Indonesia). For contrast, the 1980 Mount St. Helens eruption was “very large” (VEI 5).
ReplyDeleteDaffodils are not usually considered "bee plants." But if nothing else is blooming, bees will head over to the daffodils. https://ucanr.edu/blogs/bugsquad/index.cfm?tagname=Narcissus
ReplyDeleteNever in her life did ED watch a sunset over a “gently tossing sea”, but Reverend Charles Wadsworth did. On May 1, 1862, he, with Mrs. Wadsworth, two children, and a maid, sailed from New York for Panama. They crossed the Isthmus by rail, reimbarked, and reached San Francisco May 26. (Whicher 1938, p. 324). Wadsworth probably sent ED a “new-mailed Nerve” (Stanza 4, F293) describing a Pacific sunset he watched from a wharf in western Panama where “fantastic sailors mingled”, puffing their pipes while resting between voyages, leaving the “wharf still” when they hit the hay. ED, of course, would immortalize that sunset with a poem.
ReplyDeleteOoops, speaking of fading sunsets!
ReplyDelete