Category Emily Dickinson

The Himmaleh was known to stoop Unto the Daisy low— Transported with Compassion That such a Doll should grow Where Tent by Tent—Her Universe Hung out its Flags of Snow—

The Heaven vests for Each In that small Deity It craved the grace to worship Some bashful Summer’s Day— Half shrinking from the Glory It importuned to see Till these faint Tabernacles drop In full Eternity— How imminent the Venture—…

The Heart has narrow Banks It measures like the Sea In mighty—unremitting Bass And Blue Monotony Till Hurricane bisect And as itself discerns Its sufficient Area The Heart convulsive learns That Calm is but a Wall Of unattempted Gauze An…

The heart asks pleasure first And then, excuse from pain- And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering; And then, to go to sleep; And then, if it should be The will of its Inquisitor, The liberty to die.

The hallowing of Pain Like hallowing of Heaven, Obtains at a corporeal cost— The Summit is not given To Him who strives severe At middle of the Hill— But He who has achieved the Top— All—is the price of All—

The Guest is gold and crimson— An Opal guest and gray— Of Ermine is his doublet— His Capuchin gay— He reaches town at nightfall— He stops at every door— Who looks for him at morning I pray him too—explore The…

The Grass so little has to do – A Sphere of simple Green – With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain – And stir all day to pretty Tunes The Breezes fetch along – And hold the Sunshine…

The Grace—Myself—might not obtain— Confer upon My flower— Refracted but a Countenance— For I—inhabit Her—

The good Will of a Flower The Man who would possess Must first present Certificate Of minted Holiness.

The Gentian weaves her fringes— The Maple’s loom is red— My departing blossoms Obviate parade. A brief, but patient illness— An hour to prepare, And one below this morning Is where the angels are— It was a short procession, The…