Partake as doth the Bee,

Partake as doth the Bee,
Abstemiously.
The Rose is an Estate—
In Sicily.


     -Fr994, J806, sheet 29, early 1864


This poem is coming from a different angle than “don’t forget to stop and smell the roses.” It seems to be saying, rather, don’t overindulge in smelling the roses.

I once read that the 12th century Islamic mystic Rumi’s poems sometimes contradicted each other because they were given to specific people for specific purposes. For instance, one person might need to learn to indulge more and another, to indulge less. This poem is for the latter audience. I learned from David Preest that, “Emily’s cousin, Perez Dickinson Cowan, recorded in his diary for 26 April 1864 that he had received from Emily a very fine bouquet together with this commandment-poem.” So this poem was specifically given to a young man, which makes it more…pointed.

But Richard Sewall comments that Emily could sometimes be wary of excess of the good, herself, for example stating in poem Fr312 that, ‘the least push of Joy/breaks up my feet/and I tip – drunken.’ So this poem is in keeping, whether written as a reminder for herself, or for her cousin Perez.

Let’s look at the poem. The first line, if we did not have that word “Abstemiously” following it, would read to me very differently. Bees do sometimes take a little from here and a little from there, abstemiously, but sometimes they seem to be careening luxuriously in one flower for a long time, drunk on pollen. So I would likely read the line as saying to partake deeply. But “abstemiously” changes this dramatically, as it means to partake in a way that shows restraint. I assume Dickinson means, to partake delicately and methodically, without destroying the flower.

Seeing the rose as an estate in Sicily opens up a whole new dimension to the flower. The fragrance of the rose opens us to something as luxurious and exotic as can be imagined. So on one hand the rose is like an estate in Sicily, and we should partake, but on the other hand, we should only visit such a grand estate now and then, like on a vacation. Dickinson raises the rose to swoony heights, but even as she does so, she warns us to take our swooning in measure. It's like telling us how incredibly amazing chocolate is and then telling us to not eat too much.

But I love this idea. It’s like imagining yourself in a Swiss Chalet with each bite of that chocolate, or a vineyard in France with each sip of chardonnay. I'm left with the idea of making each indulgence really count, and, in fact, making it count so much that we need not overindulge.

Next time I’m tempted to overindulge in the fragrance of a rose (which I confess happens often,) I’ll think of this poem and, instead, will just try to inhale deeply. 

         -/)dam Wade l)eGraff

 

P.S. I’m reminded of Sarah Silverman’s advice to Make It A Treat (M.I.A.T.)