At Length
Her final summer was it,And yet we guessed it not;If tenderer industriousnessPervaded her, we thought
A further force of lifeDeveloped from within, --When Death lit all the shortness up,And made the hurry plain.
We wondered at our blindness, --When nothing was to seeBut her Carrara guide-post, --At our stupidity,
When, duller than our dullness,The busy darling lay,So busy was she, finishing,So leisurely were we!
Words in this poem
- wondered a.
- Having performed wonders; able to perform wonderful things.
- duller n.
- One who, or that which, dulls.
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
At Length is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems by Emily Dickinson, Three Series, Complete, Project Gutenberg ebook #12242; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Emily Dickinson, At Length, in Poems (1890–1896), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #12242, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/dickinson-poems/at-length.html, id L03721.
Form and metre
At Length is 16 lines in 4 verse paragraphs. It is unrhymed, as far as the pronouncing dictionary can tell. The metre is short measure, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 86%). 92% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 6.6 syllables. 4 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 25% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in short measure.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against short measure. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Her final summer was it, | 7 | ·/˘/˘·· |
| And yet we guessed it not; | 6 | ······ |
| If tenderer industriousness | 8 | ········ |
| Pervaded her, we thought | 6 | ˘/˘··· |
| A further force of life | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Developed from within, -- | 6 | ˘/˘··· |
| When Death lit all the shortness up, | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| And made the hurry plain. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| We wondered at our blindness, -- | 7 | ·/˘·//˘ |
| When nothing was to see | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| But her Carrara guide-post, -- | 7 | ···/˘·· |
| At our stupidity, | 7 | ·/˘˘/˘˘ |
| When, duller than our dullness, | 7 | ·/˘·//˘ |
| The busy darling lay, | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| So busy was she, finishing, | 7 | ·/˘··/˘ |
| So leisurely were we! | 6 | ·/˘˘·· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.