Category Emily Dickinson

The Bird must sing to earn the Crumb What merit have the Tune No Breakfast if it guaranty The Rose content may bloom To gain renown of Lady’s Drawer But if the Lady come But once a Century, the Rose…

The Bible is an antique Volume— Written by faded men At the suggestion of Holy Spectres— Subjects—Bethlehem— Eden—the ancient Homestead— Satan—the Brigadier— Judas—the Great Defaulter— David—the Troubadour— Sin—a distinguished Precipice Others must resist— Boys that “believe” are very lonesome— Other…

The Beggar Lad—dies early— It’s Somewhat in the Cold— And Somewhat in the Trudging feet— And haply, in the World— The Cruel—smiling—bowing World— That took its Cambric Way— Nor heard the timid cry for “Bread”— “Sweet Lady—Charity”— Among Redeemed Children…

The Bee is not afraid of me. I know the Butterfly. The pretty people in the Woods Receive me cordially— The Brooks laugh louder when I come— The Breezes madder play; Wherefore mine eye thy silver mists, Wherefore, Oh Summer’s…

The Battle fought between the Soul And No Man—is the One Of all the Battles prevalent— By far the Greater One— No News of it is had abroad— Its Bodiless Campaign Establishes, and terminates— Invisible—Unknown— Nor History—record it— As Legions…

The Angle of a Landscape— That every time I wake— Between my Curtain and the Wall Upon an ample Crack— Like a Venetian—waiting— Accosts my open eye— Is just a Bough of Apples— Held slanting, in the Sky— The Pattern…

The Admirations—and Contempts—of time— Show justest—through an Open Tomb— The Dying—as it were a Height Reorganizes Estimate And what We saw not We distinguish clear— And mostly—see not What We saw before— ‘Tis Compound Vision— Light—enabling Light— The Finite—furnished With…

That is solemn we have ended Be it but a Play Or a Glee among the Garret Or a Holiday Or a leaving Home, or later, Parting with a World We have understood for better Still to be explained.

That I did always love I bring thee Proof That till I loved I never lived—Enough— That I shall love alway— I argue thee That love is life— And life hath Immortality— This—dost thou doubt—Sweet— Then have I Nothing to…

That first Day, when you praised Me, Sweet, And said that I was strong— And could be mighty, if I liked— That Day—the Days among— Glows Central—like a Jewel Between Diverging Golds— The Minor One—that gleamed behind— And Vaster—of the…