"Secrets" By Emily Dickinson [Analysis]

"Secrets" is a daily word[1] Yet does not exist [2] Muffled it remits surmise [3] Murmured it has ceased [4] Dungeoned in the Human Breast[5] Doubtless secrets lie [6] But that Grate inviolate [7] Goes nor comes away[8] Nothing with a Tongue or Ear [9] Secrets stapled there[10] Will emerge but once and dumb [11] To the Sepulchre [12]
Poem 1385 [F1494] ""Secrets" is a daily word" Analysis by David Preest [Poem]

We daily use the word 'Secrets' of things which do not exist outside their owners. Kept hidden, they cannot be guessed. When spoken, they vanish. No doubt there are going to be secrets in the dungeons of our hearts, but the gratings of those dungeons remain intact and 'inviolate.' No speaking or listening can come out or go into those dungeons, whose secrets will only emerge at death. Richard Sewall remarks that in such poems of pure clinical analysis as this one, it is almost as though Emily 'felt impelled to shape and clarify thoughts for the thoughtless.'
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