Search Results for: poets

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XXXIV. I Have a King Who Does Not Speak I have a king who does not speak; So, wondering, thro’ the hours meek I trudge the day away,— Half glad when it is night and sleep, If, haply, thro’ a dream to peep In parlors shut by day. And […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XXXIII. I Measure Every Grief I Meet GRIEFS. I measure every grief I meet With analytic eyes; I wonder if it weighs like mine, Or has an easier size. I wonder if they bore it long, Or did it just begin? I could not tell the date of mine, […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XXIX. Are Friends Delight or Pain FRIENDS. Are friends delight or pain? Could bounty but remain Riches were good. But if they only stay Bolder to fly away, Riches are sad. -Emily Dickinson Enjoy Artistic Representations of “Are Friends Delight or Pain” by Emily Dickinson     Listen to these […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XXVIII. A Door Just Opened on a Street CONTRAST. 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 sudden shut, and I, I, lost, was passing by, — Lost doubly, but […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XXVI. The Farthest Thunder That I Heard The farthest thunder that I heard Was nearer than the sky, And rumbles still, though torrid noons Have lain their missiles by. The lightning that preceded it Struck no one but myself, But I would not exchange the bolt For all the […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XXV. If Recollecting Were Forgetting WITH FLOWERS. If recollecting were forgetting, Then I remember not; And if forgetting, recollecting, How near I had forgot! And if to miss were merry, And if to mourn were gay, How very blithe the fingers That gathered these to-day! -Emily Dickinson Enjoy Artistic […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XXIV. The Reticent Volcano Keeps RETICENCE. The reticent volcano keeps His never slumbering plan; Confided are his projects pink To no precarious man. If nature will not tell the tale Jehovah told to her, Can human nature not survive Without a listener? Admonished by her buckled lips Let every […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XX. From All the Jails the Boys and Girls SATURDAY AFTERNOON. From all the jails the boys and girls Ecstatically leap, — Beloved, only afternoon That prison doesn’t keep. They storm the earth and stun the air, A mob of solid bliss. Alas! that frowns could lie in wait […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XIX. I Had a Guinea Golden I HAD A GUINEA GOLDEN. I had a guinea golden; I lost it in the sand, And though the sum was simple, And pounds were in the land, Still had it such a value Unto my frugal eye, That when I could not […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XVI. There Is No Frigate Like a Book A BOOK. There is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry. This traverse may the poorest take Without oppress of toll; How frugal is the chariot That bears a […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XV. While I Was Fearing It, It Came THE INEVITABLE. While I was fearing it, it came, But came with less of fear, Because that fearing it so long Had almost made it dear. There is a fitting a dismay, A fitting a despair. ‘Tis harder knowing it is […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XIV. Aspiration ASPIRATION. We never know how high we are Till we are called to rise; And then, if we are true to plan, Our statures touch the skies. The heroism we recite Would be a daily thing, Did not ourselves the cubits warp For fear to be a […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XIII.Parting PARTING. My life closed twice before its close; It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me, So huge, so hopeless to conceive, As these that twice befell. Parting is all we know of heaven, And all we need of hell. -Emily Dickinson Enjoy […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems VI. A Word Is Dead A WORD. A word is dead When it is said, Some say. I say it just Begins to live That day. -Emily Dickinson Enjoy Artistic Representations of “A Word Is Dead” by Emily Dickinson   Listen to this Reading of “A Word Is Dead” Listen to […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XXXIV. What Inn Is This What inn is this Where for the night Peculiar traveller comes? Who is the landlord? Where the maids? Behold, what curious rooms! No ruddy fires on the hearth, No brimming tankards flow. Necromancer, landlord, Who are these below? -Emily Dickinson Enjoy Artistic Representations of […]