Emily Dickinson

I gained it so

I GAINED it so,

climbing slow

The poem starts past-tense—she's already gained it. Everything in stanza one is backstory about the climb.

By climbing slow,
By catching at the twigs that grow
Between the bliss and me.
It hung so high,
As well the sky
Attempt by strategy.

strategy

Military word. She's treating desire like a campaign, complete with tactical planning.

I said I gained it

Notice the shift: "I gained it" becomes "I said I gained it." She's already doubting her own opening line.

I said I gained it,—
This was all.
Look, how I clutch it,
Lest it fall,
And I a pauper go;
Unfitted by an instant's grace
For the contented beggar's face

contented beggar's face

Paradox—beggars aren't usually contented. She was happier wanting than having.

I wore an hour ago.
Source Wikipedia Poetry Foundation

Reading Notes

The Anxiety of Getting What You Want

The poem's structure mirrors its argument. Stanza one is all striving—climbing, catching, reaching for something hung so high. Past tense, confident. But stanza two collapses into present-tense panic. The dash after "I said I gained it" marks the turn: suddenly she's clutching to keep it from falling, terrified of losing what she just won.

Dickinson makes desire look safer than possession. As a beggar, she was contented—the wanting was stable, familiar. Now she's unfitted for that old comfort, but also unfit for this new one. The word pauper is key: it's not just being poor, it's the social shame of having lost wealth. She can't go back to innocent wanting.

The time frame is brutal: an hour ago she was fine. An instant's grace changed everything. Dickinson spent her life refusing publication, marriage, travel—this poem explains why. Getting what you want means you can lose it.

Dickinson's Grammar of Doubt

Watch how "I gained it" becomes "I said I gained it." That added verb—said—turns fact into claim, certainty into speech. She's already treating her own success as just something she told herself.

The pronoun "it" never gets identified. Not love, not fame, not God—just it. This is Dickinson's standard move: keep the object vague so the psychology stays sharp. What matters isn't what she gained, but how gaining destroyed her equilibrium.

CONTEXT Dickinson wrote 1,800 poems and published fewer than a dozen in her lifetime. Her letters show she was offered publication repeatedly and refused. This poem reads like her explanation: she preferred climbing to arriving, catching at twigs to holding the prize.