~~~Emily Dickinson~~~Poem-A-Day~~~"If those I loved were lost",

Version 1
If those I loved were lost,
the crier's voice would tell me -
If those I loved were found,
the bells of Ghent would ring,

Did those I loved repose,
the Daisy would impel me -
Philip when bewildered -
bore his riddle in -

[edit] Version 2
If those I loved were lost
The Crier's voice w'd tell me -
If those I loved were found
The bells of Ghent w'd ring -
Did those I loved repose
The Daisy would impel me.
Philip - when bewildered
Bore his riddle in!

[edit] Version 3
If those I loved were lost
The Crier's voice would tell me —
If those I loved were found
The bells of Ghent would ring —

Did those I loved repose
The Daisy would impel me.
Philip — when bewildered
Bore his riddle in!

by Emily Dickinson


Dear Friends of Emily! Today's poem is frought with allergory, or should I say, "flowered" with allegorical atypical Dicksonian lexicon. Needless to say it did take a trip down discovery lane on Wikipedia to find out just what, exactly, is Emily referring to with "The Daisy", "The Crier", "Philip" and "The Bells of Ghent".

My research to date has only given me "The Belfry of Ghent" and it is a huge tower as illustrated above built in 1333. Strange tales abode with this bell tower! Many strange tales too strange to tell really, and one rather shocking as you will read on the last insert from Wikipedia below!

Perhaps Emily Dickinison is inspired by "Henry Wadsworth Longfellow" referred to Roland in one of his poems:

"Till the bell of Ghent responded o'er lagoon and dike of sand,
I am Roland! I am Roland! there is victory in the land!"HWL
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Belfry_of_Ghent)

If Emily is referring to herself as "The Daisy" in her poem here ("If those I loved were lost").I have found a short story called "The Daisy" by Hans Christian Andersen which I believe may be the reference to The Daisy (of course!). Emily is referring to the "lost" as those not found in the "sinner prayer" or who have not found Jesus Christ or God known as Yahweh, or Jevowah and are not saved.And so was HCA in The Daisy! Without sounding like I am proseltzing, which I am not since I am trying to discover Emily's Point of View or WWED(What Would Emily Do?) or WWES(What Would Emily Say?) or WWEM (What Would Emily Mean?) in reference to the new slogan WWJD (What Would Jesus Do?). To understand Emily's poem, beside our own subjective and blissful transcendental experience, we must understand Emily as the poet/artist's Point-of-View (POV) and understand her existence back then in the late 1800's and understand her mileu, her Victorian age, her religious attitude, her academic discoveries from her training at Amherst College, in Amherst MA.

In the first stanza's four lines;

If those I loved were lost,
the crier's voice would tell me -
If those I loved were found,
the bells of Ghent would ring,

Back in the day, and returned to many cities everywhere is the Town Crier. The Town Crier yells the news on the street corner. Good and bad news. Usually. If Emily felt that if her "loved" ones were "lost" to Christ or going the way of Satan she would want to discuss it, how important it would be to save them and then "the bells of Ghent (Belgium) would ring.

This Belfry of Ghent is historic and discussed by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, a poetic inspiration to Emily in many ways similar to Emily, a contemporary who lived in Maine on the Eastern seaboard coast of the USA. Longfellow was a professor at Harvard and retired in Cambridge, MA. Emily must have had more than an affinity to this wonderful poet/professor.

"He became the most popular American poet of his day and also had success overseas. He has been criticized, however, for imitating European styles and writing specifically for the masses"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Wadsworth_Longfellow

The next stanza, I must admit, totally confuses me. As I am not sure the reference to "Philip". Maybe the Biblical Philip, so I will go with that, maybe someone close to Emily named Philip as well, and I will check those references as well.

"Did those I loved repose,
the Daisy would impel me -
Philip when bewildered -
bore his riddle in -"

However, I have just had an ephithany! The last poem about the daisy, how the daisy died in the field barely noticed, well those she "loved repose" are dead too. And The Daisy reminds her of her mortality and to turn to the Bible for the answer which she finds in the Apostle Philip, Jesus' brother "bore his riddle in "Christ". The riddle being "bore his cross in Christ. This is how I believe Emily wanted this poem to be understood, although I still must do some more research on the exact meaning and reference to Apostle Philip in the Bible and where in particular, this poem would reference which particle event in Philip's life. Maybe just to spread The good news of Kingdom come? I'll have to get back on this!




Construction of the tower began in 1313 to the design of master mason Jan van Haelst, whose plans are still preserved in a museum. After continuing intermittently through wars, plagues and political turmoil, the work reached completion in 1380. It was near the end of this period that the gilded dragon, brought from Bruges,[1] assumed its place atop the tower. The uppermost parts of the building have been rebuilt several times, in part to accommodate the growing number of bells.

The primary bell in the tower, Roland, was the one used by citizens to warn of an enemy approaching or a battle won.[1] "Roland has become almost a person to the people of Belgium. He is a patriot, a hero, a leader in all rebellion against unrighteous authority."[1] Upon conquering Belgium, Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor ordered the removal of Roland. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow referred to Roland in one of his poems:

Till the bell of Ghent responded o'er lagoon and dike of sand,
I am Roland! I am Roland! there is victory in the land!

The belfry of Ghent, together with its attached buildings, belongs to the set of belfries of Belgium and France inscribed on UNESCO's World Heritage List.A small annex dating from 1741, called the Mammelokker, served as the entrance and guard's quarters of the city jail that occupied part of the old cloth hall from 1742 to 1902. The name refers to the sculpture of Roman Charity poised high above the front doorway. It depicts the Roman legend of a prisoner, Cimon, who is sentenced to death by starvation, but survives and ultimately gains his freedom thanks to his daughter Pero, a wet nurse who secretly breastfeeds him during her visits.

The Daisy
by
Hans Christian Andersen
(1838)
OW listen! In the country, close by the high road, stood a farmhouse; perhaps you have passed by and seen it yourself. There was a little flower garden with painted wooden palings in front of it; close by was a ditch, on its fresh green bank grew a little daisy; the sun shone as warmly and brightly upon it as on the magnificent garden flowers, and therefore it thrived well. One morning it had quite opened, and its little snow-white petals stood round the yellow centre, like the rays of the sun. It did not mind that nobody saw it in the grass, and that it was a poor despised flower; on the contrary, it was quite happy, and turned towards the sun, looking upward and listening to the song of the lark high up in the air.

The little daisy was as happy as if the day had been a great holiday, but it was only Monday. All the children were at school, and while they were sitting on the forms and learning their lessons, it sat on its thin green stalk and learnt from the sun and from its surroundings how kind God is, and it rejoiced that the song of the little lark expressed so sweetly and distinctly its own feelings. With a sort of reverence the daisy looked up to the bird that could fly and sing, but it did not feel envious. “I can see and hear,” it thought; “the sun shines upon me, and the forest kisses me. How rich I am!”

In the garden close by grew many large and magnificent flowers, and, strange to say, the less fragrance they had the haughtier and prouder they were. The peonies puffed themselves up in order to be larger than the roses, but size is not everything! The tulips had the finest colours, and they knew it well, too, for they were standing bolt upright like candles, that one might see them the better. In their pride they did not see the little daisy, which looked over to them and thought, “How rich and beautiful they are! I am sure the pretty bird will fly down and call upon them. Thank God, that I stand so near and can at least see all the splendour.” And while the daisy was still thinking, the lark came flying down, crying “Tweet,” but not to the peonies and tulips—no, into the grass to the poor daisy. Its joy was so great that it did not know what to think. The little bird hopped round it and sang, “How beautifully soft the grass is, and what a lovely little flower with its golden heart and silver dress is growing here.” The yellow centre in the daisy did indeed look like gold, while the little petals shone as brightly as silver.

How happy the daisy was! No one has the least idea. The bird kissed it with its beak, sang to it, and then rose again up to the blue sky. It was certainly more than a quarter of an hour before the daisy recovered its senses. Half ashamed, yet glad at heart, it looked over to the other flowers in the garden; surely they had witnessed its pleasure and the honour that had been done to it; they understood its joy. But the tulips stood more stiffly than ever, their faces were pointed and red, because they were vexed. The peonies were sulky; it was well that they could not speak, otherwise they would have given the daisy a good lecture. The little flower could very well see that they were ill at ease, and pitied them sincerely.

Shortly after this a girl came into the garden, with a large sharp knife. She went to the tulips and began cutting them off, one after another. “Ugh!” sighed the daisy, “that is terrible; now they are done for.”

The girl carried the tulips away. The daisy was glad that it was outside, and only a small flower—it felt very grateful. At sunset it folded its petals, and fell asleep, and dreamt all night of the sun and the little bird.

On the following morning, when the flower once more stretched forth its tender petals, like little arms, towards the air and light, the daisy recognised the bird’s voice, but what it sang sounded so sad. Indeed the poor bird had good reason to be sad, for it had been caught and put into a cage close by the open window. It sang of the happy days when it could merrily fly about, of fresh green corn in the fields, and of the time when it could soar almost up to the clouds. The poor lark was most unhappy as a prisoner in a cage. The little daisy would have liked so much to help it, but what could be done? Indeed, that was very difficult for such a small flower to find out. It entirely forgot how beautiful everything around it was, how warmly the sun was shining, and how splendidly white its own petals were. It could only think of the poor captive bird, for which it could do nothing. Then two little boys came out of the garden; one of them had a large sharp knife, like that with which the girl had cut the tulips. They came straight towards the little daisy, which could not understand what they wanted.

“Here is a fine piece of turf for the lark,” said one of the boys, and began to cut out a square round the daisy, so that it remained in the centre of the grass.

“Pluck the flower off” said the other boy, and the daisy trembled for fear, for to be pulled off meant death to it; and it wished so much to live, as it was to go with the square of turf into the poor captive lark’s cage.

“No let it stay,” said the other boy, “it looks so pretty.”

And so it stayed, and was brought into the lark’s cage. The poor bird was lamenting its lost liberty, and beating its wings against the wires; and the little daisy could not speak or utter a consoling word, much as it would have liked to do so. So the forenoon passed.

“I have no water,” said the captive lark, “they have all gone out, and forgotten to give me anything to drink. My throat is dry and burning. I feel as if I had fire and ice within me, and the air is so oppressive. Alas! I must die, and part with the warm sunshine, the fresh green meadows, and all the beauty that God has created.” And it thrust its beak into the piece of grass, to refresh itself a little. Then it noticed the little daisy, and nodded to it, and kissed it with its beak and said: “You must also fade in here, poor little flower. You and the piece of grass are all they have given me in exchange for the whole world, which I enjoyed outside. Each little blade of grass shall be a green tree for me, each of your white petals a fragrant flower. Alas! you only remind me of what I have lost.”

“I wish I could console the poor lark,” thought the daisy. It could not move one of its leaves, but the fragrance of its delicate petals streamed forth, and was much stronger than such flowers usually have: the bird noticed it, although it was dying with thirst, and in its pain tore up the green blades of grass, but did not touch the flower.

The evening came, and nobody appeared to bring the poor bird a drop of water; it opened its beautiful wings, and fluttered about in its anguish; a faint and mournful “Tweet, tweet,” was all it could utter, then it bent its little head towards the flower, and its heart broke for want and longing. The flower could not, as on the previous evening, fold up its petals and sleep; it dropped sorrowfully. The boys only came the next morning; when they saw the dead bird, they began to cry bitterly, dug a nice grave for it, and adorned it with flowers. The bird’s body was placed in a pretty red box; they wished to bury it with royal honours. While it was alive and sang they forgot it, and let it suffer want in the cage; now, they cried over it and covered it with flowers. The piece of turf, with the little daisy in it, was thrown out on the dusty highway. Nobody thought of the flower which had felt so much for the bird and had so greatly desired to comfort it.

http://hca.gilead.org.il/daisy.html


HCA.Gilead.org.il
Copyright © Zvi Har’El
$Date: 2007/12/13 20:45:27 $

[show]Rembrandt (1606–1669)

Alternative names Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn
Rembrandt Harmensz. van Rijn
Description Dutch painter, printmaker and draughtsman
Date of birth/death 15 July 1606(1606-07-15) 4 October 1669(1669-10-04)
Location of birth/death Leiden Amsterdam
Work period from 1625(1625) until 1669(1669)
Work location Leiden, Amsterdam

Title The baptism of the eunuch.
Year 1626(1626)
Technique Oil on panel
Dimensions 64 × 47.5 cm (25.20 × 18.70 in)
Current location Museum Catharijneconvent Utrecht
Notes Signed and dated bottom right: RH 1626

Provenance:

ca. 1900(1900): bought in Utrecht by a private collector
Date unknown: inherited by his granddaughter
1976(1976): bought by the Aartsbisschoppelijk Museum (since 1979 Museum Catharijneconvent), Utrecht

Source postcard
ID Inventory number: RMCC s380

jj

The Daisy

We know the reference now
To Ms Emily's wonder-full
Verse so Fine
And the Lost Found
Now are Found
Because of Martyr'd Saints
Like Philip the Evangelist
with his 4 daughters
Preached on the Cross
While he was dying
He never gave up hope
for the lost
like us
Neither
Did Emily or me!
We Are Found!

Sinner's Prayer! (to be found and not lost!)

Heavenly Father, I know that I have sinned against you and that my sins separate me from you. I am truly sorry. I now want to turn away from my sinful past and turn to you for forgiveness. Please forgive me, and help me avoid sinning again. I believe that your Son, Jesus Christ, died for my sins, that He was raised from the dead, is alive, and hears my prayer. I invite Jesus to become my Savior and the Lord of my life, to rule and reign in my heart from this day forward. Please send your Holy Spirit to help me obey You and to convict me when I sin. I pledge to grow in grace and knowledge of you. My greatest purpose in life is to follow your example and do Your will for the rest of my life. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen.[2]
jj