Eftsooning
That last scrap from Coleridge’s Rime reminds me of a question I’ve been wondering about ever since we put together the Barbara Guest issue for Chicago Review.
In “Nebraska,” Guest uses the word eftsooning in the first stanza:
Climate succumbing continuously as water gathered
into foam or Nebraska elevated by ships
withholds what is glorious in its climb like
a waiter balancing a waterglass while the tray
slips that was necklace in the arch of bridge
now the island settles linear its paragraph of tree
vibrates the natural cymbal with its other tongue
strikes an attitude we have drawn there on the limb
when icicle against the sail will darken the wind
eftsooning it and the ways lap with spices as
buoyancy once the galloping area where grain
is rinsed and care requires we choose our walk
My first thought was that the word was a double typo for festooning, which would certainly fit the sense of Guest’s poem. But if it was a typo, it wasn’t caught when Guest’s Selected Poems reprinted “Nebraska” (which originally appeared in Moscow Mansions). Obviously that’s not dispositive evidence, but it did give me pause. When I asked a person whose judgment I trusted what we ought to do with the word, he responded, “I think the word is charming and ought be let stand.” I agreed then and agree now with both halves of that sentence, and so let it stand is what we did.
But the question remains: what in the world did Guest mean?
The OED includes several definitions for the adverb eftsoons, the third of which is clearly the one Coleridge wanted–
1. A second time, again.
b. quasi-adj. with vbl. n.
2. Indicating sequence or transition in discourse: Again, moreover, likewise.
3. Afterwards, soon afterwards. (The notion of ‘soon’, though app. implied in the etymology, is not distinctly evidenced in early examples, and down to 17th c. is sometimes absent; but in mod. archaistic use the sense is commonly ‘forthwith, immediately’.)
4. From time to time, occasionally, repeatedly.
5. eftsoons as: as soon as.
There’s nothing for a verbal form. We can try to extrapolate a verb–againing?–but even if we accept the sense of that word, how would it possibly make sense in Guest’s poem?
I’m clearly not the first person to wonder about this. Phillip Good and Bernadette Mayer included the word in “Skylands” in obvious homage to Guest, and the way they use it suggests they favor the typo reading:
Living in a black shoe made by cold fish where one person’s
parent died cause of lack of giant spider
in the heating system
Eftsooning Moscow mansions with ghoulish joyness, Hawks
are large, man! You should see them they’re archaic!
The typo explanation still seems the most likely to me, but I’m curious if anyone has other ideas.

