"I measure every Grief I meet," one of Emily Dickinson's longest poems, is a meditation on the nature of grief. The poem's speaker finds herself searching other people's grief for similarities to her own. She wonders about the weight, or difficulty, of other people's pain, and whether such pain ever subsides. Knowing that someone out there might suffer as she does provides some comfort, making her feel less alone. The first known manuscript in which the poem appeared is dated 1862; like most of Dickinson's poems, it was published posthumously.
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1I measure every Grief I meet
2With narrow, probing, Eyes —
3I wonder if It weighs like Mine —
4Or has an Easier size.
5I wonder if They bore it long —
6Or did it just begin —
7I could not tell the Date of Mine —
8It feels so old a pain —
9I wonder if it hurts to live —
10And if They have to try —
11And whether — could They choose between—
12It would not be — to die —
13I note that Some — gone patient long —
14At length, renew their smile —
15An imitation of a Light
16That has so little Oil —
17I wonder if when Years have piled —
18Some Thousands — on the Harm —
19That hurt them early — such a lapse
20Could give them any Balm —
21Or would they go on aching still
22Through Centuries of Nerve —
23Enlightened to a larger Pain —
24In Contrast with the Love —
25The Grieved — are many — I am told —
26There is the various Cause —
27Death — is but one — and comes but once —
28And only nails the eyes —
29There's Grief of Want — and Grief of Cold —
30A sort they call "Despair" —
31There's Banishment from native Eyes —
32In sight of Native Air —
33And though I may not guess the kind —
34Correctly — yet to me
35A piercing Comfort it affords
36In passing Calvary —
37To note the fashions — of the Cross —
38And how they're mostly worn —
39Still fascinated to presume
40That Some — are like My Own —
1I measure every Grief I meet
2With narrow, probing, Eyes —
3I wonder if It weighs like Mine —
4Or has an Easier size.
5I wonder if They bore it long —
6Or did it just begin —
7I could not tell the Date of Mine —
8It feels so old a pain —
9I wonder if it hurts to live —
10And if They have to try —
11And whether — could They choose between—
12It would not be — to die —
13I note that Some — gone patient long —
14At length, renew their smile —
15An imitation of a Light
16That has so little Oil —
17I wonder if when Years have piled —
18Some Thousands — on the Harm —
19That hurt them early — such a lapse
20Could give them any Balm —
21Or would they go on aching still
22Through Centuries of Nerve —
23Enlightened to a larger Pain —
24In Contrast with the Love —
25The Grieved — are many — I am told —
26There is the various Cause —
27Death — is but one — and comes but once —
28And only nails the eyes —
29There's Grief of Want — and Grief of Cold —
30A sort they call "Despair" —
31There's Banishment from native Eyes —
32In sight of Native Air —
33And though I may not guess the kind —
34Correctly — yet to me
35A piercing Comfort it affords
36In passing Calvary —
37To note the fashions — of the Cross —
38And how they're mostly worn —
39Still fascinated to presume
40That Some — are like My Own —
I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, 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—
It would not be — to die —
I note that Some — gone patient long —
At length, renew their smile —
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil —
I wonder if when Years have piled —
Some Thousands — on the Harm —
That hurt them early — such a lapse
Could give them any Balm —
Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries of Nerve —
Enlightened to a larger Pain —
In Contrast with the Love —
The Grieved — are many — I am told —
There is the various Cause —
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 kind —
Correctly — yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary —
To note the fashions — of the Cross —
And how they're mostly worn —
Still fascinated to presume
That Some — are like My Own —
Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
The Poem Aloud — The poem performed with musical accompaniment by Michael Hermiston.
Biography and Poems — A biography of Dickinson and more Dickinson poems from the Poetry Foundation.
Poems about Grief — A Poetry Foundation archive of poems about grief and suffering.
Dickinson's Meter — A closer look at Dickinson's unconventional use of meter and its relationship to the hymn tradition.
Harvard Collection — Harvard Library's Emily Dickinson collection, which contains Dickinson's original, hardbound manuscripts as well as letters, her herbarium, and the family Bible.