Emily Dickinson's "The saddest noise, the sweetest noise" reflects on the bittersweet relationship between beauty and grief. Listening to the birds singing on a springtime morning, the speaker feels as much pain as pleasure: these "sweetest" of noises are also the "saddest," reminding the speaker of all the lost loved ones who used to enjoy spring at the speaker's side. Like most of Dickinson's poems, this one wasn't published until well after her death; it first appeared in print in the 1955 Complete Works of Emily Dickinson.
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1The saddest noise, the sweetest noise,
2The maddest noise that grows,—
3The birds, they make it in the spring,
4At night’s delicious close,
5Between the March and April line—
6That magical frontier
7Beyond which summer hesitates,
8Almost too heavenly near.
9It makes us think of all the dead
10That sauntered with us here,
11By separation’s sorcery
12Made cruelly more dear.
13It makes us think of what we had,
14And what we now deplore.
15We almost wish those siren throats
16Would go and sing no more.
17An ear can break a human heart
18As quickly as a spear.
19We wish the ear had not a heart
20So dangerously near.
1The saddest noise, the sweetest noise,
2The maddest noise that grows,—
3The birds, they make it in the spring,
4At night’s delicious close,
5Between the March and April line—
6That magical frontier
7Beyond which summer hesitates,
8Almost too heavenly near.
9It makes us think of all the dead
10That sauntered with us here,
11By separation’s sorcery
12Made cruelly more dear.
13It makes us think of what we had,
14And what we now deplore.
15We almost wish those siren throats
16Would go and sing no more.
17An ear can break a human heart
18As quickly as a spear.
19We wish the ear had not a heart
20So dangerously near.
The saddest noise, the sweetest noise,
The maddest noise that grows,—
The birds, they make it in the spring,
At night’s delicious close,
Between the March and April line—
That magical frontier
Beyond which summer hesitates,
Almost too heavenly near.
It makes us think of all the dead
That sauntered with us here,
By separation’s sorcery
Made cruelly more dear.
It makes us think of what we had,
And what we now deplore.
We almost wish those siren throats
Would go and sing no more.
An ear can break a human heart
As quickly as a spear.
We wish the ear had not a heart
So dangerously near.
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.
Dickinson's Legacy — Listen to three contemporary writers discussing what Emily Dickinson means to them.
The Poem Aloud — Listen to the poem read out loud.
A Portrait of Dickinson — See a recently rediscovered photo of Dickinson and learn more about the mysteries around Dickinson's reclusive later years.
The Dickinson Museum — Visit the website of the Emily Dickinson Museum to learn more about her life and work.
The Dickinson Society — Visit the Emily Dickinson Society to learn more about Dickinson's continuing influence.