I felt a Funeral, in my Brain (280) by Emily Dickinson

Form: Common Meter | Year: 1861

Full Text

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading – treading – till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through –

And when they all were seated,
A Service, like a Drum –
Kept beating – beating – till I thought
My mind was going numb –

And then – I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again,
Then Space – began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,
And Being, but an Ear,
And I, and Silence, some strange Race,
Wrecked, solitary, here –

And then – a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down –
And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing – then –

Overview

A funeral inside the skull—mental breakdown as ceremonial burial. The poem's rhythm (treading, beating, tolling) becomes oppressive, mimicking the relentless percussion of crisis. The ending drops through floors of meaning ("a Plank in Reason, broke") into something beyond knowledge. "Finished knowing" could be death, madness, or enlightenment—the dash leaves us falling.

Line-by-Line Analysis

Lines 1-4

"Funeral, in my Brain"—grief made literal, internal. "Treading – treading" is unbearable repetition. "Sense breaking through" could mean perception or sanity.

Lines 17-20

"A Plank in Reason, broke"—the floor of sanity gives way. "Finished knowing" ends on a dash, refusing closure. We don't know what's below.

Themes

  • Mental breakdown
  • Consciousness at its limits
  • Repetition as torment
  • The failure of reason

Literary Devices

Extended Metaphor
Funeral as mental collapse — Every element of the funeral (mourners, service, box, burial) maps onto psychological experience.
Repetition
"treading – treading," "beating – beating" — The rhythmic repetition creates claustrophobia—the reader experiences the relentlessness.

Historical Context

Written during Dickinson's most prolific period (1861-1862). Some biographers suggest a psychological crisis during these years. The poem resists neat biographical reading—it could describe depression, anxiety, or a visionary experience.