"I years had been from home" is American poet Emily Dickinson's reflection on change. Returning to a former home after long years away, the poem's speaker finds they can't even muster the courage to open the door: confronting everything that could have changed just seems too scary. Change, the poem reflects, can be as frightening as it is inevitable. Like a lot of Dickinson's work, this poem wasn't published until after Dickinson died; it first appeared in a posthumous collection, Poems (1891).
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1I—Years—had been—from Home—
2And now—before the Door—
3I dared not open—lest a face
4I never saw before
5Stare vacant into mine—
6And ask my Business there—
7My Business—just a Life I left—
8Was such—still dwelling there?
9I fumbled at my nerve—
10I scanned the Windows o'er—
11The Silence—like an Ocean rolled—
12And broke against my Ear—
13I laughed a Wooden laugh—
14That I—could fear a Door—
15Who Danger—and the Dead—had faced—
16But never shook—before—
17I fitted to the Latch—my Hand—
18With trembling Care—
19Lest back the Awful Door should spring—
20And leave me—in the Floor—
21I moved my fingers off, as cautiously as Glass—
22And held my Ears—and like a Thief
23Stole—gasping—from the House.
1I—Years—had been—from Home—
2And now—before the Door—
3I dared not open—lest a face
4I never saw before
5Stare vacant into mine—
6And ask my Business there—
7My Business—just a Life I left—
8Was such—still dwelling there?
9I fumbled at my nerve—
10I scanned the Windows o'er—
11The Silence—like an Ocean rolled—
12And broke against my Ear—
13I laughed a Wooden laugh—
14That I—could fear a Door—
15Who Danger—and the Dead—had faced—
16But never shook—before—
17I fitted to the Latch—my Hand—
18With trembling Care—
19Lest back the Awful Door should spring—
20And leave me—in the Floor—
21I moved my fingers off, as cautiously as Glass—
22And held my Ears—and like a Thief
23Stole—gasping—from the House.
I—Years—had been—from Home—
And now—before the Door—
I dared not open—lest a face
I never saw before
Stare vacant into mine—
And ask my Business there—
My Business—just a Life I left—
Was such—still dwelling there?
I fumbled at my nerve—
I scanned the Windows o'er—
The Silence—like an Ocean rolled—
And broke against my Ear—
I laughed a Wooden laugh—
That I—could fear a Door—
Who Danger—and the Dead—had faced—
But never shook—before—
I fitted to the Latch—my Hand—
With trembling Care—
Lest back the Awful Door should spring—
And leave me—in the Floor—
I moved my fingers off, as cautiously as Glass—
And held my Ears—and like a Thief
Stole—gasping—from the House.
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 — Listen to a reading of the poem, in a slightly different version. Remember, many of Dickinson's poems exist in several different drafts, and some were altered without her knowledge when they were posthumously published.
The Poem in Dickinson's Hand — Take a look at one of Dickinson's original drafts of this poem.
The Emily Dickinson Museum — Visit the website of the Emily Dickinson Museum to learn more about the poet's life and work.
Editing Dickinson — Learn more about the complex history of Dickinson's poetry in print, including the editorial changes her first publishers made to much of her work.
Dickinson's Legacy — Read contemporary author Helen Oyeyemi's reflection on what Dickinson means to her.