Category Emily Dickinson

“Lethe” in my flower, Of which they who drink, In the fadeless orchards Hear the bobolink! Merely flake or petal As the Eye beholds Jupiter! my father! I perceive the rose!

Perhaps you tire – now – A small weight – is obnoxious – upon a weary Rope – but had you Exile – or Eclipse – or so huge a Danger, as would dissolve all other friends– ’twould please me…

Let others – show this Surry’s Grace – Myself – assist his Cross –

Let my first knowing be of thee With morning’s warming Light – And my first Fearing, lest Unknowns Engulph thee in the night –

Let me not thirst — with this Hock at my Lip, Nor beg, — with Domains in my Pocket –

Let me not mar that perfect Dream By an Auroral stain But so adjust my daily Night That it will come again. Not when we know, the Power accosts – The Garment of Surprise Was all our timid Mother wore…

Let down the Bars, Oh Death – The tired Flocks come in Whose bleating ceases to repeat Whose wandering is done – Thine is the stillest night Thine the securest Fold Too near Thou art for seeking Thee Too tender,…

Lest this be Heaven indeed An Obstacle is given That always gauges a Degree Between Ourself and Heaven.

Lest they should come – is all my fear When sweet incarcerated – here

Lest any doubt that we are glad — that they were born Today Whose having lived — is held by us in noble holiday Without the date, — like Consciousness or Immortality –