Search Results for: by hand

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XIII. The Sea of Sunset THE SEA OF SUNSET. This is the land the sunset washes, These are the banks of the Yellow Sea; Where it rose, or whither it rushes, These are the western mystery! Night after night her purple traffic Strews the landing with opal bales; Merchantmen […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XII. A Something in a Summer’s Day PSALM OF THE DAY. A something in a summer’s day, As slow her flambeaux burn away, Which solemnizes me. A something in a summer’s noon, — An azure depth, a wordless tune, Transcending ecstasy. And still within a summer’s night A something […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XI. A Drop Fell on the Apple Tree SUMMER SHOWER. A drop fell on the apple tree, Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A few went out to help the brook, That went to help the sea. Myself conjectured, […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems The Grass So Little Has to Do THE GRASS. The grass so little has to do, — A sphere of simple green, With only butterflies to brood, And bees to entertain, And stir all day to pretty tunes The breezes fetch along, And hold the sunshine in its lap […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems The Bee is Not Afraid of Me 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 eyes, thy silver mists? Wherefore, O summer’s day? -Emily […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems Some Keep the Sabbath by Going to Church A SERVICE OF SONG. Some keep the Sabbath going to church; I keep it staying at home, With a bobolink for a chorister, And an orchard for a dome. Some keep the Sabbath in surplice; I just wear my wings, And […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems V. The Pedigree of Honey The pedigree of honey Does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him Is aristocracy. -Emily Dickinson Enjoy Artistic Representations of “The Pedigree of Honey” by Emily Dickinson   Listen to these Readings of “The Pedigree of Honey” Listen to this Musical Interpretation of […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems IV. Perhaps You’d Like to Buy a Flower Perhaps you’d like to buy a flower? But I could never sell. If you would like to borrow Until the daffodil Unties her yellow bonnet Beneath the village door, Until the bees, from clover rows Their hock and sherry draw, Why, […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems II. Mayflower Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss, Known by the knoll, Next to the robin In every human soul. Bold little beauty, Bedecked with thee, Nature forswears Antiquity. -Emily Dickinson Enjoy Artistic Representations of “Mayflower” by Emily Dickinson   […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems I. New Feet Within My Garden Go New feet within my garden go, New fingers stir the sod; A troubadour upon the elm Betrays the solitude. New children play upon the green, New weary sleep below; And still the pensive spring returns, And still the punctual snow! -Emily Dickinson […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems A Light Exists In Spring A light exists in spring Not present on the year At any other period. When March is scarcely here A color stands abroad On solitary hills That science cannot overtake, But human naturefeels. It waits upon the lawn; It shows the furthest tree Upon […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems A Clock Stopped- Not The Mantel’s 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 […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems I’m Nobody, Who Are You? I’m nobody! Who are you? Are you nobody, too? Then there’s a pair of us — don’t tell! They’d banish — you know! How dreary to be somebody! How public like a frog To tell one’s name the livelong day To an admiring bog! […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems A Dying Tiger Moaned for a Drink A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand— His Mighty Balls—in death were thick— But searching—I could see A Vision on the Retina Of Water—and of me— […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems Because I Could Not Stop For Death Because I could not stop for Death- He kindly stopped for me- The Carriage held but just Ourselves- And Immortality. We slowly drove- He knew no haste And I had put away My labor and my leisure too, For His Civility- We […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems A Bird Came Down the Walk A bird came down the walk: He did not know I saw; He bit an angle-worm 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 […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems Heaven Is What I Cannot Reach “Heaven”—is what I cannot reach! The Apple on the Tree— Provided it do hopeless—hang— That—”Heaven” is—to Me! The Color, on the Cruising Cloud— The interdicted Land— Behind the Hill—the House behind— There—Paradise—is found! Her teasing Purples—Afternoons— The credulous—decoy— Enamored—of the Conjuror— That spurned […]