Emily Dickinson
Who Giants know, with lesser Men
Who Giants know, with lesser Men Are incomplete, and shy For Greatness, that is ill at ease In minor Company A Smaller, could not be perturbed The Summer Gnat displays Unconscious that his single
Summer begins to have the look
Summer begins to have the look Peruser of enchanting Book Reluctantly but sure perceives A gain upon the backward leaves Autumn begins to be inferred By millinery of the cloud Or deeper color in
The event was directly behind Him
The event was directly behind Him Yet He did not guess Fitted itself to Himself like a Robe Relished His ignorance. Motioned itself to drill Loaded and Levelled And let His Flesh Centuries from
To hear an Oriole sing
To hear an Oriole sing May be a common thing Or only a divine. It is not of the Bird Who sings the same, unheard, As unto Crowd The Fashion of the Ear Attireth
He fumbles at your Soul
He fumbles at your Soul As Players at the Keys Before they drop full Music on He stuns you by degrees Prepares your brittle Nature For the Ethereal Blow By fainter Hammers further heard
When Diamonds are a Legend
When Diamonds are a Legend, And Diadems a Tale I Brooch and Earrings for Myself, Do sow, and Raise for sale And tho’ I’m scarce accounted, My Art, a Summer Day had Patrons Once
You're right "the way is narrow"
You’re right “the way is narrow” And “difficult the Gate” And “few there be” Correct again That “enter in thereat” ‘Tis Costly So are purples! ‘Tis just the price of Breath With but the
I think just how my shape will rise
I think just how my shape will rise When I shall be “forgiven” Till Hair and Eyes and timid Head Are out of sight in Heaven I think just how my lips will weigh
The Bird must sing to earn the Crumb
The Bird must sing to earn the Crumb What merit have the Tune No Breakfast if it guaranty The Rose content may bloom To gain renown of Lady’s Drawer But if the Lady come
It makes no difference abroad
It makes no difference abroad The Seasons fit the same The Mornings blossom into Noons And split their Pods of Flame Wild flowers kindle in the Woods The Brooks slam all the Day No
God permits industrious Angels
God permits industrious Angels Afternoons to play I met one forgot my Schoolmates All for Him straightway God calls home the Angels promptly At the Setting Sun I missed mine how dreary Marbles After
The Court is far away
The Court is far away No Umpire have I My Sovereign is offended To gain his grace I’d die! I’ll seek his royal feet I’ll say Remember King Thou shalt thyself one day a
Of Tribulation, these are They
Of Tribulation, these are They, Denoted by the White The Spangled Gowns, a lesser Rank Of Victors designate All these did conquer But the ones who overcame most times Wear nothing commoner than Snow
The Soul selects her own Society
The Soul selects her own Society Then shuts the Door To her divine Majority Present no more Unmoved she notes the Chariots pausing At her low Gate Unmoved an Emperor be kneeling Upon her
Her "last Poems"
Her “last Poems” Poets ended Silver perished with her Tongue Not on Record bubbled other, Flute or Woman So divine Not unto its Summer Morning Robin uttered Half the Tune Gushed too free for