Search Results for: poets

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems X. TRANSPLANTED. As if some little Arctic flower, Upon the polar hem, Went wandering down the latitudes, Until it puzzled came To continents of summer, To firmaments of sun, To strange, bright crowds of flowers, And birds of foreign tongue! I say, as if this little flower To Eden […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems IX. Have you got a brook in your little heart, Where bashful flowers blow, And blushing birds go down to drink, And shadows tremble so? And nobody knows, so still it flows, That any brook is there; And yet your little draught of life Is daily drunken there. Then […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems VIII. PROOF. That I did always love, I bring thee proof: That till I loved I did not love enough. That I shall love alway, I offer thee That love is life, And life hath immortality. This, dost thou doubt, sweet? Then have I Nothing to show But Calvary. […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems VII. WITH A FLOWER. I hide myself within my flower, That wearing on your breast, You, unsuspecting, wear me too — And angels know the rest. I hide myself within my flower, That, fading from your vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me Almost a loneliness. —Emily Dickinson From Poems: […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems VI. If you were coming in the fall, I’d brush the summer by With half a smile and half a spurn, As housewives do a fly. If I could see you in a year, I’d wind the months in balls, And put them each in separate drawers, Until their […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems V. SURRENDER. Doubt me, my dim companion! Why, God would be content With but a fraction of the love Poured thee without a stint. The whole of me, forever, What more the woman can, — Say quick, that I may dower thee With last delight I own! It cannot […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems IV. SUSPENSE. Elysium is as far as to The very nearest room, If in that room a friend await Felicity or doom. What fortitude the soul contains, That it can so endure The accent of a coming foot, The opening of a door! —Emily Dickinson From Poems: Second Series […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems III. Alter? When the hills do. Falter? When the sun Question if his glory Be the perfect one. Surfeit? When the daffodil Doth of the dew: Even as herself, O friend! I will of you! —Emily Dickinson From Poems: Second Series Edited by Mabel Loomis Todd and T.W. Higginson. […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems II. BEQUEST. You left me, sweet, two legacies, — A legacy of love A Heavenly Father would content, Had He the offer of; You left me boundaries of pain Capacious as the sea, Between eternity and time, Your consciousness and me. —Emily Dickinson From Poems: Second Series Edited by […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems I. MINE. Mine by the right of the white election! Mine by the royal seal! Mine by the sign in the scarlet prison Bars cannot conceal! Mine, here in vision and in veto! Mine, by the grave’s repeal Titled, confirmed, — delirious charter! Mine, while the ages steal! —Emily […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XXVI. The brain within its groove Runs evenly and true; But let a splinter swerve, ‘T were easier for you To put the water back When floods have slit the hills, And scooped a turnpike for themselves, And blotted out the mills! —Emily Dickinson From Poems by Emily Dickinson. […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XXV. Belshazzar had a letter, — He never had but one; Belshazzar’s correspondent Concluded and begun In that immortal copy The conscience of us all Can read without its glasses On revelation’s wall. —Emily Dickinson From Poems by Emily Dickinson. Edited by Mabel Loomis Todd and T.W. Higginson. BUY […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XXIV. Whether my bark went down at sea, Whether she met with gales, Whether to isles enchanted She bent her docile sails; By what mystic mooring She is held to-day, — This is the errand of the eye Out upon the bay. —Emily Dickinson From Poems by Emily Dickinson. […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XXIII. UNRETURNING. ‘T was such a little, little boat That toddled down the bay! ‘T was such a gallant, gallant sea That beckoned it away! ‘T was such a greedy, greedy wave That licked it from the coast; Nor ever guessed the stately sails My little craft was lost! […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XXII. I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity. Nor had I time to love; but since Some industry must be, The little toil of love, I thought, Was large enough for me. —Emily Dickinson […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XX. I taste a liquor never brewed, From tankards scooped in pearl; Not all the vats upon the Rhine Yield such an alcohol! Inebriate of air am I, And debauchee of dew, Reeling, through endless summer days, From inns of molten blue. When landlords turn the drunken bee Out […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XIX. THE MYSTERY OF PAIN. Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself, Its infinite realms contain Its past, enlightened to perceive New periods of pain. —Emily Dickinson From […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XVIII. THE BOOK OF MARTYRS. Read, sweet, how others strove, Till we are stouter; What they renounced, Till we are less afraid; How many times they bore The faithful witness, Till we are helped, As if a kingdom cared! Read then of faith That shone above the fagot; Clear […]