She bore it till the simple veins
Traced azure on her hand —
Til pleading, round her quiet eyes
The purple Crayons stand.

Till Daffodils had come and gone
I cannot tell the sum,
And then she ceased to bear it —
And with the Saints sat down.

No more her patient figure
At twilight soft to meet —
No more her timid bonnet
Upon the village street —

But Crowns instead, and Courtiers —
And in the midst so fair,
Whose but her shy — immortal face
Of whom we’re whispering here?

Analysis, meaning and summary of Emily Dickinson's poem She bore it till the simple veins


  1. frumpo says:

    A quiet lady dies and is resurrected in glory.

  2. Stacy says:

    Wow, this is such a sad poem. This one is really very understandable when it comes to Dickinson’s poems but it is still beautiful and sad.

  3. Melissa says:

    This is such a sad, beautiful poem.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Do you have any comments, criticism, paraphrasis or analysis of this poem that you feel would assist other visitors in understanding the meaning or the theme of this poem by Emily Dickinson better? If accepted, your analysis will be added to this page of American Poems. Together we can build a wealth of information, but it will take some discipline and determination.