Emily Dickinson imagines herself as a would-be burglar sizing up a lonely country house. The speaker, perhaps a child or a playful outsider, describes how two thieves might approach: one with tools, one peeping to make sure the house is asleep. The kitchen seems orderly and silent—but the clock can be gagged, mice won’t bark, and walls won’t speak. Then the poem takes a surreal turn: spectacles stir, an almanac is “aware,” even the mat seems to wink. The moon slides down the stairs to investigate. The robbers linger over potential loot—a tankard, an earring, a grandmother’s brooch—but morning comes before they act. Finally, a rooster cries out, and the old couple wake, merely supposing the sunrise left the door ajar. The whole episode is a fantasy, hovering between mischief and pure imagination, full of Dickinson’s dark whimsy.
I know some lonely Houses off the Road — Summary
I know some lonely Houses off the Road A Robber'd like the look of -- Wooden barred, And Windows hanging low, Inviting to -- A Portico, Where two could creep -- One -- hand the Tools -- The other peep -- To make sure All's Asleep -- Old fashioned eyes -- Not easy to surprise!
How orderly the Kitchen'd look, by night, With just a Clock -- But they could gag the Tick -- And Mice won't bark -- And so the Walls -- don't tell -- None -- will --
A pair of Spectacles ajar just stir -- An Almanac's aware -- Was it the Mat -- winked, Or a Nervous Star? The Moon -- slides down the stair, To see who's there!
There's plunder -- where -- Tankard, or Spoon -- Earring -- or Stone -- A Watch -- Some Ancient Brooch To match the Grandmama -- Staid sleeping -- there --
Day -- rattles -- too Stealth's -- slow -- The Sun has got as far As the third Sycamore -- Screams Chanticleer "Who's there"?
And Echoes -- Trains away, Sneer -- "Where"! While the old Couple, just astir, Fancy the Sunrise -- left the door ajar!