Emily Dickinson

A Bee his burnished Carriage
Drove boldly to a Rose —
Combinedly alighting —
Himself — his Carriage was —
The Rose received his visit
With frank tranquillity
Withholding not a Crescent
To his Cupidity —
Their Moment consummated —
Remained for him — to flee —
Remained for her — of rapture
But the humility.
-Emily Dickinson

A Bird came down the Walk —
He did not know I saw —
He bit an Angleworm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw,

And then he drank a Dew
From a convenient Grass —
And then hopped sidewise to the Wall
To let a Beetle pass —

He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all around —
They looked like frightened Beads, I thought —
He stirred his Velvet Head

Like one in danger, Cautious,
I offered him a Crumb
And

A Charm invests a face
Imperfectly beheld –
The Lady dare not lift her Veil
For fear it be dispelled –
…
But peers beyond her mesh –
And wishes – and denies –
Lest Interview – annul a want
That Image – satisfies –
– A Charm invests a face by Emily Dickinson

A chilly Peace infests the Grass
The Sun respectful lies —
Not any Trance of industry
These shadows scrutinize —

Whose Allies go no more astray
For service or for Glee —
But all mankind deliver here
From whatsoever sea —
-Emily Dickinson

A Clock stopped —
Not the Mantel’s —
Geneva’s farthest skill
Can’t put the puppet bowing —
That just now dangled still —

An awe came on the Trinket!
The Figures hunched, with pain —
Then quivered out of Decimals —
Into Degreeless Noon —

It will not stir for Doctors —
This Pendulum of snow —
This Shopman importunes it —
While cool — concernless No —

Nods from the Gilded pointers —
Nods from the Seconds slim —
Decades of Arrogance between
The

A Cloud withdrew from the Sky
Superior Glory be
But that Cloud and its Auxiliaries
Are forever lost to me

Had I but further scanned
Had I secured the Glow
In an Hermetic Memory
It had availed me now.

Never to pass the Angel
With a glance and a Bow
Till I am firm in Heaven
Is my intention now.
-Emily Dickinson

A Coffin – is a small Domain,
Yet able to contain
A Citizen of Paradise
In it diminished Plane.

A Grave — is a restricted Breadth —
Yet ampler than the Sun —
And all the Seas He populates
And Lands He looks upon

To Him who on its small Repose
Bestows a single Friend —
Circumference without Relief —
Or Estimate — or End —

A Counterfeit – a Plated Person —
I would not be —
Whatever strata of Iniquity
My Nature underlie —
Truth is good Health — and Safety, and the Sky.
How meagre, what an Exile — is a Lie,
And Vocal — when we die —
-Emily Dickinson

A curious Cloud surprised the Sky,
‘Twas like a sheet with Horns;
The sheet was Blue —
The Antlers Gray —
It almost touched the lawns.
–
So low it leaned — then statelier drew —
And trailed like robes away,
A Queen adown a satin aisle
Had not the majesty.
-Emily Dickinson

A darting fear – a pomp – a tear —
A waking on a morn
To find that what one waked for,
Inhales the different dawn.
-Emily Dickinson

A Death blow is a Life blow to Some
Who till they died, did not alive become —
Who had they lived, had died but when
They died, Vitality begun.
-Emily Dickinson

A Deed knocks first at Thought
And then — it knocks at Will —
That is the manufacturing spot
And Will at Home and well

It then goes out an Act
Or is entombed so still
That only to the ear of God
Its Doom is audible —
-Emily Dickinson

A Diamond on the Hand
To Custom Common grown
Subsides from its significance
The Gem were best unknown —
Within a Seller’s Shrine
How many sight and sigh
And cannot, but are mad for fear
That any other buy.
-Emily Dickinson

A Dimple in the Tomb
Makes that ferocious Room
A Home —
-Emily Dickinson

A Door just opened on a street —
I — lost — was passing by —
An instant’s Width of Warmth disclosed —
And Wealth — and Company.

The Door as instant shut — And I —
I — lost — was passing by —
Lost doubly — but by contrast — most —
Informing — misery —
-Emily Dickinson

A doubt if it be Us
Assists the staggering Mind
In an extremer Anguish
Until it footing find.

An Unreality is lent,
A merciful Mirage
That makes the living possible
While it suspends the lives.
-Emily Dickinson

A Drunkard cannot meet a Cork
Without a Revery —
And so encountering a Fly
This January Day
Jamaicas of Remembrance stir
That send me reeling in —
The moderate drinker of Delight
Does not deserve the spring —
Of juleps, part are the Jug
And more are in the joy —
Your connoisseur in Liquours
Consults the Bumble Bee —
– Emily Dickinson

A face devoid of love or grace,
A hateful, hard, successful face,
A face with which a stone
Would feel as thoroughly at ease
As were they old acquaintances —
First time together thrown.
– Emily Dickinson

A faded Boy — in sallow Clothes
Who drove a lonesome Cow
To pastures of Oblivion —
A statesman’s Embryo —
—
The Boys that whistled are extinct —
The Cows that fed and thanked
Remanded to a Ballad’s Barn
Or Clover’s Retrospect —
– Emily Dickinson