Griefs
I measure every grief I meetWith analytic eyes;I wonder if it weighs like mine,Or has an easier size.
I wonder if they bore it long,Or did it just begin?I could not tell the date of mine,It feels so old a pain.
I wonder if it hurts to live,And if they have to try,And whether, could they choose between,They would not rather die.
I wonder if when years have piled --Some thousands -- on the causeOf early hurt, if such a lapseCould give them any pause;
Or would they go on aching stillThrough centuries above,Enlightened to a larger painBy contrast with the love.
The grieved are many, I am told;The reason deeper lies, --Death is but one and comes but once,And only nails the eyes.
There's grief of want, and grief of cold, --A sort they call 'despair;'There's banishment from native eyes,In sight of native air.
And though I may not guess the kindCorrectly, yet to meA piercing comfort it affordsIn passing Calvary,
To note the fashions of the cross,Of those that stand alone,Still fascinated to presumeThat some are like my own.
Words in this poem
- piled a.
- Having a pile or point; pointed. [From 2d Pile.]
- aching a.
- That aches; continuously painful. See Ache.
- calvary n.
- The place where Christ was crucified, on a small hill outside of Jerusalem. Luke xxiii. 33. [L. calvaria a bare skull, fr. calva the scalp without hair. fr. calvus bald; cf. F. calvaire.]
- presume v. t.
- To assume or take beforehand; esp., to do or undertake without leave or authority previously obtained. [F. présumer, L. praesumere, praesumptum; prae before + sumere to take. See Assume, Redeem.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Griefs 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, Griefs, in Poems (1890–1896), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #12242, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/dickinson-poems/griefs.html, id L03755.
Form and metre
Griefs is 36 lines in 9 stanzas of 4 lines each. The metre is common measure, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 92%). 97% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 6.9 syllables. 1 line ends on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 25% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in common 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.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 -A-A meet · eyesA · mine · sizeA
- 3 -A-A live · tryA · between · dieA
- 4 -A-A piled · causeA · lapse · pauseA
- 5 -A-A still · aboveA · pain · loveA
- 6 -A-A told · liesA · once · eyesA
- 7 -A-A cold · despairA · eyes · airA
- 9 -A-A cross · aloneA · presume · ownA
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 common measure. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| I measure every grief I meet | 9 | ·/˘/˘˘··· |
| With analytic eyes; | 6 | ··˘/˘· |
| I wonder if it weighs like mine, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Or has an easier size. | 7 | ···/˘˘· |
| I wonder if they bore it long, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Or did it just begin? | 6 | ····˘/ |
| I could not tell the date of mine, | 8 | ········ |
| It feels so old a pain. | 6 | ······ |
| I wonder if it hurts to live, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And if they have to try, | 6 | ······ |
| And whether, could they choose between, | 8 | ········ |
| They would not rather die. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| I wonder if when years have piled -- | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Some thousands -- on the cause | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| Of early hurt, if such a lapse | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Could give them any pause; | 6 | ···/˘· |
| Or would they go on aching still | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| Through centuries above, | 6 | ·/˘˘·· |
| Enlightened to a larger pain | 8 | ˘/˘··/˘· |
| By contrast with the love. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| The grieved are many, I am told; | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| The reason deeper lies, -- | 6 | ·/˘/˘· |
| Death is but one and comes but once, | 8 | ········ |
| And only nails the eyes. | 6 | ·/˘··· |
| There's grief of want, and grief of cold, -- | 8 | ········ |
| A sort they call 'despair;' | 6 | ····˘/ |
| There's banishment from native eyes, | 8 | ·/˘˘·/˘· |
| In sight of native air. | 6 | ···/˘· |
| And though I may not guess the kind | 8 | ········ |
| Correctly, yet to me | 6 | ˘/˘··· |
| A piercing comfort it affords | 8 | ·/˘/˘·˘/ |
| In passing Calvary, | 6 | ·/˘/˘˘ |
| To note the fashions of the cross, | 8 | ···/˘··· |
| Of those that stand alone, | 6 | ····˘/ |
| Still fascinated to presume | 8 | ·/˘·˘·˘/ |
| That some are like my own. | 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.