Category Emily Dickinson

Upon his Saddle sprung a Bird And crossed a thousand Trees Before a Fence without a Fare His Fantasy did please And then he lifted up his Throat And squandered such a Note A Universe that overheard Is stricken by…

Volcanoes be in Sicily And South America I judge from my Geography Volcano nearer here A Lava step at any time Am I inclined to climb A Crater I may contemplate Vesuvius at Home.

Warm in her Hand these accents lie While faithful and afar The Grace so awkward for her sake It’s fond subjection wear –

“Was not” was all the statement. The Unpretension stuns – Perhaps – the Comprehension – They wore no Lexicons – But lest our Speculation In inanition die Because “God took him” mention – That was Philology –

Water makes many Beds For those averse to sleep – It’s awful chamber open stands – It’s Curtains blandly sweep – Abhorrent is the Rest In undulating Rooms Whose Amplitude no end invades – Whose Axis never comes

We do not know the time we lose – The awful moment is And takes it’s fundamental place Among the certainties – A firm appearance still inflates The card – the chance – the friend – The spectre of solidities…

We introduce ourselves To Planets and to Flowers But with ourselves Have etiquettes Embarrassments And awes

We knew not that we were to live – Nor when – we are to die – Our ignorance our Cuirass is – We wear Mortality As lightly as an Option Gown Till asked to take it off – By…

We learn it in Retreating How vast an one Was recently among us – A Perished Sun Endear in the departure How doubly more Than all the Golden presence It was – before –

We like a Hairbreadth ‘scape It tingles in the Mind Far after Act or Accident Like paragraphs of Wind If we had ventured less The Gale were not so fine That reaches to our utmost Hair It’s Tentacles divine.