Success is Counted Sweetest- Emily Dickinson

SUCCESS is counted sweetest
By those who ne’er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple host
Who took the flag to-day
Can tell the definition,
So clear, of victory,

As he, defeated, dying,
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Break, agonized and clear.

-Emily Dickinson

I was going through a stack of poetry I had lying around. It was from a collection of poems bound together after Dickinson died. Dickinson was my hero for a while as an adolescent, but now I think I relate more fully to her. She never did succeed in life. She had a dismal marriage, as was typical of the time, struggled with health and happiness, struggled financially and then died. Her friends were cleaning out her bedroom when they found a trunk full of poetry. They searched her desk and found bits of parchment everywhere with scribbled thoughts and ink-blotted philosophies. Despite her desire to be published during her life, no one ever saw potential in her. I think society and her husband suffocated her. Her words I typed above are flavored with symbolism, specifically the second stanza. "The purple host" is symbolic of royalty who claim victory. But, as Dickinson so eloquently states, those holding the flag know nothing of victory compared to those who actually fought for it. I guess we always want most what we never have. She says that we value most what we do not have; those who know failure appreciate success more than the successful. Then she goes on to say those who hold the flag don't understand liberty, or victory, like those who suffered for it. Those who have become accustomed to success cannot possibly comprehend personal victory without knowing the face of failure. I have come to the conclusion that failure is one of the most human things one can experience. Although our society and environment influence us, nothing is more dominate in defining our individuality than our struggles and weaknesses. It's almost beautiful, actually, the process of failure.

Oh, I decided to pick a piece of art to go with my blog each week. It just seemed wrong to not have a visual to accompany my rants! :)

A Summer Day By The Sea- Henry Longfellow

A Summer Day By The Sea

The sun is set; and in his latest beams
Yon little cloud of ashen gray and gold,
Slowly upon the amber air unrolled,
The falling mantle of the Prophet seems.
From the dim headlands many a light-house gleams,
The street-lamps of the ocean; and behold,
O'erhead the banners of the night unfold;
The day hath passed into the land of dreams.
O summer day beside the joyous sea!
O summer day so wonderful and white,
So full of gladness and so full of pain!
Forever and forever shalt thou be
To some the gravestone of a dead delight,
To some the landmark of a new domain.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


I've definitely been going through a Longfellow phase lately.
This reminds me of every summer of my childhood! We went out to Devil's Elbow and laid on the beach, climbed the cliffs, ran the sand dunes, and finished with Moe's and BJ's ice cream and salt water taffy. Summer days were just perfect with the beach so close. I loved looking out onto the horizon of the ocean, as if I was looking at eternity. This all sounds so idealistic and perhaps exaggerated, but that's exactly how I remember it. I love Longfellow's words, "O summer day beside the Joyous sea!... So full of gladness and so full of pain." I think these words somewhat encompass the entirety of life. The ocean alone holds so many metaphors! The bitterness of the salt, the hidden sea shells lurking under the sand, the slimy sea weed that embraces your toes... yet, it's so beautiful. I love being so utterly content that you can realize how surreal happiness is. Happiness is like sunshine; you can feel it and experience a portion, but you can never look at it, or comprehend it directly.