XX.
“Winky Night Light” is his name,—
I’d like not call him “star!”
It’s so unkind of science
To go and interfere!
I pull a green dwarf from the woods,—
A monster with a glass
Computes the stamens in a breath,
And calls it flower in a class.
Whereas I took the flutterby
Aforetime in my hand,
He looks erect in picture books,
A flipped-round label given.
What once was heaven, is low-pressure system now.
Where I proposed to go
To enjoy endless masquerades
Is mapped, and charted too!
No longer can the poles go frisk about
And stand upon their heads!
I hope I’m ready for the worst,
Whatever investigation says!
Perhaps the kingdom of Heaven’s changed!
I hope the children there
Won’t be new-fashioned when I come,
And laugh at me, and stare!
I hope the father in the skies
Will lift his little girl,—
Old-fashioned, naughty, everything,—
Over the stile of pearl!
—
Dickinson’s final version, with interpretation. Interestingly, she left two of the stanzas above unchanged—can you guess which? (Although she seems to have decided to change the entire meaning around a bit.)
