Category Emily Dickinson

My country need not change her gown, Her triple suit as sweet As when ’twas cut at Lexington, And first pronounced “a fit.” Great Britain disapproves, “the stars”; Disparagement discreet, — There’s something in their attitude That taunts her bayonet.

My cocoon tightens, colors tease, I’m feeling for the air ; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be The aptitude to fly, Meadows of majesty concedes And easy sweeps of sky. So I…

My Cocoon tightens — Colors tease — I’m feeling for the Air — A dim capacity for Wings Demeans the Dress I wear — A power of Butterfly must be — The Aptitude to fly Meadows of Majesty implies And…

Morning that comes but once, Considers coming twice — Two Dawns upon a single Morn, Make Life a sudden price.

Morning is due to all — To some — the Night — To an imperial few — The Auroral light.

“Morning” — means “Milking” — to the Farmer — Dawn — to the Teneriffe — Dice — to the Maid — Morning means just Risk — to the Lover — Just revelation — to the Beloved — Epicures — date…

More than the Grave is closed to me — The Grave and that Eternity To which the Grave adheres — I cling to nowhere till I fall — The Crash of nothing, yet of all — How similar appears —

Mine Enemy is growing old — I have at last Revenge — The Palate of the Hate departs — If any would avenge Let him be quick — the Viand flits — It is a faded Meat — Anger as…

Meeting by Accident, We hovered by design — As often as a Century An error so divine Is ratified by Destiny, But Destiny is old And economical of Bliss As Midas is of Gold —

March is the Month of Expectation. The things we do not know — The Persons of prognostication Are coming now — We try to show becoming firmness — But pompous Joy Betrays us, as his first Betrothal Betrays a Boy.