Soul, wilt thou toss again?
By just such a hazard
Hundreds have lost, indeed,
But tens have won an all.Angels’ breathless ballot
~Emily Dickinson
Lingers to record thee;
Imps in eager caucus
Raffle for my soul.
The poem’s title, of course, is not Dickinson’s, but it’s evocative. This poem itself strikes me as very different from her usual style and theme. Though Dickinson often delves into darkness, the image of demonic little imps eagerly vying for her soul is a different shade of darkness.
Is she writing about herself? or is she being more philosophical, more general? I wonder what inspired this poem. It’s interesting that in the very first line, the speaker acknowledges that she’s already gambled her soul, at least once–“Soul, wilt thou toss again?” How did the first toss go? If you lose your soul once, can you gamble it again? If you win it once, is it possible to lose it after that?
It’s a strange poem, and raises so many more questions than it answers.
The Emily Project 