Emily Dickinson

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The grave my little cottage is, Where “Keeping house” for thee I make my parlor orderly And lay the marble tea. For two divided, briefly, A cycle, it may be, Till everlasting life unite

Exhilaration is the Breeze That lifts us from the Ground And leaves us in another place Whose statement is not found Returns us not, but after time We soberly descend A little newer for

The feet of people walking home With gayer sandals go The Crocus til she rises The Vassal of the snow The lips at Hallelujah Long years of practise bore Til bye and bye these

To own the Art within the Soul The Soul to entertain With Silence as a Company And Festival maintain Is an unfurnished Circumstance Possession is to One As an Estate perpetual Or a reduceless

Of nearness to her sundered Things The Soul has special times When Dimness looks the Oddity Distinctness easy seems The Shapes we buried, dwell about, Familiar, in the Rooms Untarnished by the Sepulchre, The

I was a Phoebe nothing more A Phoebe nothing less The little note that others dropt I fitted into place I dwelt too low that any seek Too shy, that any blame A Phoebe

She rose to His Requirement dropt The Playthings of Her Life To take the honorable Work Of Woman, and of Wife If ought She missed in Her new Day, Of Amplitude, or Awe Or

What we see we know somewhat Be it but a little What we don’t surmise we do Though it shows so fickle I shall vote for Lands with Locks Granted I can pick ’em

Nature the Gentlest Mother is, Impatient of no Child The feeblest or the waywardest Her Admonition mild In Forest and the Hill By Traveller be heard Restraining Rampant Squirrel Or too impetuous Bird How

He ate and drank the precious Words His Spirit grew robust He knew no more that he was poor, Nor that his frame was Dust He danced along the dingy Days And this Bequest

The Outer from the Inner Derives its Magnitude ‘Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according As is the Central Mood The fine unvarying Axis That regulates the Wheel Though Spokes spin more conspicuous And fling a

The Moon upon her fluent Route Defiant of a Road The Star’s Etruscan Argument Substantiate a God If Aims impel these Astral Ones The ones allowed to know Know that which makes them as

To earn it by disdaining it Is Fame’s consummate Fee He loves what spurns him Look behind He is pursuing thee. So let us gather every Day The Aggregate of Life’s Bouquet Be Honor

These held their Wick above the West Till when the Red declined Or how the Amber aided it Defied to be defined Then waned without disparagement In a dissembling Hue That would not let

Denial is the only fact Perceived by the Denied Whose Will a numb significance The Day the Heaven died And all the Earth strove common round Without Delight, or Beam What Comfort was it

The Sun just touched the Morning The Morning Happy thing Supposed that He had come to dwell And Life would all be Spring! She felt herself supremer A Raised Ethereal Thing! Henceforth for Her

This Chasm, Sweet, upon my life I mention it to you, When Sunrise through a fissure drop The Day must follow too. If we demur, its gaping sides Disclose as ’twere a Tomb Ourself

‘Tis Anguish grander than Delight ‘Tis Resurrection Pain The meeting Bands of smitten Face We questioned to, again. ‘Tis Transport wild as thrills the Graves When Cerements let go And Creatures clad in Miracle

One Anguish in a Crowd A Minor thing it sounds And yet, unto the single Doe Attempted of the Hounds ‘Tis Terror as consummate As Legions of Alarm Did leap, full flanked, upon the

The smouldering embers blush Oh Hearts within the Coal Hast thou survived so many years? The smouldering embers smile Soft stirs the news of Light The stolid seconds glow One requisite has Fire that

In lands I never saw they say Immortal Alps look down Whose Bonnets touch the firmament Whose Sandals touch the town Meek at whose everlasting feet A Myriad Daisy play Which, Sir, are you

How the old Mountains drip with Sunset How the Hemlocks burn How the Dun Brake is draped in Cinder By the Wizard Sun How the old Steeples hand the Scarlet Till the Ball is

The Blunder is in estimate. Eternity is there We say, as of a Station Meanwhile he is so near He joins me in my Ramble Divides abode with me No Friend have I that

I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing, 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

Who were “the Father and the Son” We pondered when a child, And what had they to do with us And when portentous told With inference appalling By Childhood fortified We thought, at least

The Wind tapped like a tired Man And like a Host “Come in” I boldly answered entered then My Residence within A Rapid footless Guest To offer whom a Chair Were as impossible as

Severer Service of myself I hastened to demand To fill the awful Vacuum Your life had left behind I worried Nature with my Wheels When Hers had ceased to run When she had put

Not any more to be lacked Not any more to be known Denizen of Significance For a span so worn Even Nature herself Has forgot it is there Sedulous of her Multitudes Notwithstanding Despair

I gained it so By Climbing slow By Catching at the Twigs that grow Between the Bliss and me It hung so high As well the Sky Attempt by Strategy I said I gained

The Mountains grow unnoticed Their Purple figures rise Without attempt Exhaustion Assistance or Applause In Their Eternal Faces The Sun with just delight Looks long and last and golden For fellowship at night

One Year ago jots what? God spell the word! I can’t Was’t Grace? Not that Was’t Glory? That will do Spell slower Glory Such Anniversary shall be

The Sun and Moon must make their haste The Stars express around For in the Zones of Paradise The Lord alone is burned His Eye, it is the East and West The North and

Pain expands the Time Ages coil within The minute Circumference Of a single Brain Pain contracts the Time Occupied with Shot Gamuts of Eternities Are as they were not

I reason, Earth is short And Anguish absolute And many hurt, But, what of that? I reason, we could die The best Vitality Cannot excel Decay, But, what of that? I reason, that in

To die takes just a little while They say it doesn’t hurt It’s only fainter by degrees And then it’s out of sight A darker Ribbon for a Day A Crape upon the Hat

Behind Me dips Eternity Before Me Immortality Myself the Term between Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray, Dissolving into Dawn away, Before the West begin ‘Tis Kingdoms afterward they say In perfect pauseless

Except the smaller size No lives are round These hurry to a sphere And show and end The larger slower grow And later hang The Summers of Hesperides Are long.

There’s something quieter than sleep Within this inner room! It wears a sprig upon its breast And will not tell its name. Some touch it, and some kiss it Some chafe its idle hand

As plan for Noon and plan for Night So differ Life and Death In positive Prospective The Foot upon the Earth At Distance, and Achievement, strains, The Foot upon the Grave Makes effort at

All overgrown by cunning moss, All interspersed with weed, The little cage of “Currer Bell” In quiet “Haworth” laid. Gathered from many wanderings Gethsemane can tell Thro’ what transporting anguish She reached the Asphodel!

Her little Parasol to lift And once to let it down Her whole Responsibility To imitate be Mine. A Summer further I must wear, Content if Nature’s Drawer Present me from sepulchral Crease As

You said that I “was Great” one Day Then “Great” it be if that please Thee Or Small or any size at all Nay I’m the size suit Thee Tall like the Stag would

The Day that I was crowned Was like the other Days Until the Coronation came And then ’twas Otherwise As Carbon in the Coal And Carbon in the Gem Are One and yet the

Unit, like Death, for Whom? True, like the Tomb, Who tells no secret Told to Him The Grave is strict Tickets admit Just two the Bearer And the Borne And seat just One The

The Devil had he fidelity Would be the best friend Because he has ability But Devils cannot mend Perfidy is the virtue That would but he resign The Devil without question Were thoroughly divine

I heard, as if I had no Ear Until a Vital Word Came all the way from Life to me And then I knew I heard. I saw, as if my Eye were on

‘Twas a long Parting but the time For Interview had Come Before the Judgment Seat of God The last and second time These Fleshless Lovers met A Heaven in a Gaze A Heaven of

She could not live upon the Past The Present did not know her And so she sought this sweet at last And nature gently owned her The mother that has not a knell For

I took one Draught of Life I’ll tell you what I paid Precisely an existence The market price, they said. They weighed me, Dust by Dust They balanced Film with Film, Then handed me

The Bat is dun, with wrinkled Wings Like fallow Article And not a song pervade his Lips Or none perceptible. His small Umbrella quaintly halved Describing in the Air An Arc alike inscrutable Elate

I think to Live may be a Bliss To those who dare to try Beyond my limit to conceive My lip to testify I think the Heart I former wore Could widen till to

I’ll tell you how the Sun rose A Ribbon at a time The Steeples swam in Amethyst The news, like Squirrels, ran The Hills untied their Bonnets The Bobolinks begun Then I said softly

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

Nature sometimes sears a Sapling Sometimes scalps a Tree Her Green People recollect it When they do not die Fainter Leaves to Further Seasons Dumbly testify We who have the Souls Die oftener Not

You love the Lord you cannot see You write Him every day A little note when you awake And further in the Day. An Ample Letter How you miss And would delight to see

I had some things that I called mine And God, that he called his, Till, recently a rival Claim Disturbed these amities. The property, my garden, Which having sown with care, He claims the

Soul, Wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost indeed But tens have won an all Angel’s breathless ballot Lingers to record thee Imps in eager Caucus Raffle for my

For Death or rather For the Things ‘twould buy This put away Life’s Opportunity The Things that Death will buy Are Room Escape from Circumstances And a Name With Gifts of Life How Death’s

He forgot and I remembered ‘Twas an everyday affair Long ago as Christ and Peter “Warmed them” at the “Temple fire.” “Thou wert with him” quoth “the Damsel”? “No” said Peter, ’twasn’t me Jesus

You cannot make Remembrance grow When it has lost its Root The tightening the Soil around And setting it upright Deceives perhaps the Universe But not retrieves the Plant Real Memory, like Cedar Feet

Oh Shadow on the Grass, Art thou a Step or not? Go make thee fair my Candidate My nominated Heart Oh Shadow on the Grass While I delay to guess Some other thou wilt

My nosegays are for Captives Dim expectant eyes, Fingers denied the plucking, Patient till Paradise. To such, if they should whisper Of morning and the moor, They bear no other errand, And I, no

That is solemn we have ended Be it but a Play Or a Glee among the Garret Or a Holiday Or a leaving Home, or later, Parting with a World We have understood for

My Triumph lasted till the Drums Had left the Dead alone And then I dropped my Victory And chastened stole along To where the finished Faces Conclusion turned on me And then I hated

The Soul’s distinct connection With immortality Is best disclosed by Danger Or quick Calamity As Lightning on a Landscape Exhibits Sheets of Place Not yet suspected but for Flash And Click and Suddenness.

My Worthiness is all my Doubt His Merit all my fear Contrasting which, my quality Do lowlier appear Lest I should insufficient prove For His beloved Need The Chiefest Apprehension Upon my thronging Mind

Sang from the Heart, Sire, Dipped my Beak in it, If the Tune drip too much Have a tint too Red Pardon the Cochineal Suffer the Vermillion Death is the Wealth Of the Poorest

Low at my problem bending, Another problem comes Larger than mine Serener Involving statelier sums. I check my busy pencil, My figures file away. Wherefore, my baffled fingers They perplexity?

Quite empty, quite at rest, The Robin locks her Nest, and tries her Wings. She does not know a Route But puts her Craft about For rumored Springs She does not ask for Noon

Upon Concluded Lives There’s nothing cooler falls Than Life’s sweet Calculations The mixing Bells and Palls Make Lacerating Tune To Ears the Dying Side ‘Tis Coronal and Funeral Saluting in the Road

To my quick ear the Leaves conferred The Bushes they were Bells I could not find a Privacy From Nature’s sentinels In Cave if I presumed to hide The Walls begun to tell Creation

I went to thank Her But She Slept Her Bed a funneled Stone With Nosegays at the Head and Foot That Travellers had thrown Who went to thank Her But She Slept ‘Twas Short

The World feels Dusty When We stop to Die We want the Dew then Honors taste dry Flags vex a Dying face But the least Fan Stirred by a friend’s Hand Cools like the

More Life went out when He went Than Ordinary Breath Lit with a finer Phosphor Requiring in the Quench A Power of Renowned Cold, The Climate of the Grave A Temperature just adequate So

I made slow Riches but my Gain Was steady as the Sun And every Night, it numbered more Than the preceding One All Days, I did not earn the same But my perceiveless Gain

Perhaps you think me stooping I’m not ashamed of that Christ stooped until He touched the Grave Do those at Sacrament Commemorative Dishonor Or love annealed of love Until it bend as low as

I would not paint a picture I’d rather be the One Its bright impossibility To dwell delicious on And wonder how the fingers feel Whose rare celestial stir Evokes so sweet a Torment Such

For every Bird a Nest Wherefore in timid quest Some little Wren goes seeking round Wherefore when boughs are free Households in every tree Pilgrim be found? Perhaps a home too high Ah Aristocracy!

These saw Visions Latch them softly These held Dimples Smooth them slow This addressed departing accents Quick Sweet Mouth to miss thee so This We stroked Unnumbered Satin These we held among our own

Extol thee could I? Then I will By saying nothing new But just the truest truth That thou art heavenly. Perceiving thee is evidence That we are of the sky Partaking thee a guaranty

An Antiquated Tree Is cherished of the Crow Because that Junior Foliage is disrespectful now To venerable Birds Whose Corporation Coat Would decorate Oblivion’s Remotest Consulate.

Facts by our side are never sudden Until they look around And then they scare us like a spectre Protruding from the Ground The height of our portentous Neighbor We never know Till summoned

The Robin is the One That interrupt the Morn With hurried few express Reports When March is scarcely on The Robin is the One That overflow the Noon With her cherubic quantity An April

It’s coming the postponeless Creature It gains the Block and now it gains the Door Chooses its latch, from all the other fastenings Enters with a “You know Me Sir”? Simple Salute and certain

He put the Belt around my life I heard the Buckle snap And turned away, imperial, My Lifetime folding up Deliberate, as a Duke would do A Kingdom’s Title Deed Henceforth, a Dedicated sort

Fairer through Fading as the Day Into the Darkness dips away Half Her Complexion of the Sun Hindering Haunting Perishing Rallies Her Glow, like a dying Friend Teasing with glittering Amend Only to aggravate

As imperceptibly as Grief The Summer lapsed away Too imperceptible at last To seem like Perfidy A Quietness distilled As Twilight long begun, Or Nature spending with herself Sequestered Afternoon The Dusk drew earlier

Escape is such a thankful Word I often in the Night Consider it unto myself No spectacle in sight Escape it is the Basket In which the Heart is caught When down some awful

He was my host he was my guest, I never to this day If I invited him could tell, Or he invited me. So infinite our intercourse So intimate, indeed, Analysis as capsule seemed

Knock with tremor These are Caesars Should they be at Home Flee as if you trod unthinking On the Foot of Doom These receded to accostal Centuries ago Should they rend you with “How

The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants At Evening, it is not At Morning, in a Truffled Hut It stop upon a Spot As if it tarried always And yet its whole Career Is

I tie my Hat I crease my Shawl Life’s little duties do precisely As the very least Were infinite to me I put new Blossoms in the Glass And throw the old away I

The Opening and the Close Of Being, are alike Or differ, if they do, As Bloom upon a Stalk. That from an equal Seed Unto an equal Bud Go parallel, perfected In that they

A solemn thing it was I said A woman white to be And wear if God should count me fit Her blameless mystery A hallowed thing to drop a life Into the purple well

An altered look about the hills A Tyrian light the village fills A wider sunrise in the morn A deeper twilight on the lawn A print of a vermillion foot A purple finger on

I prayed, at first, a little Girl, Because they told me to But stopped, when qualified to guess How prayer would feel to me If I believed God looked around, Each time my Childish

Truth is as old as God His Twin identity And will endure as long as He A Co-Eternity And perish on the Day Himself is borne away From Mansion of the Universe A lifeless

The Notice that is called the Spring Is but a month from here Put up my Heart thy Hoary work And take a Rosy Chair. Not any House the Flowers keep The Birds enamor

A Toad, can die of Light Death is the Common Right Of Toads and Men Of Earl and Midge The privilege Why swagger, then? The Gnat’s supremacy is large as Thine Life is a

I watched the Moon around the House Until upon a Pane She stopped a Traveller’s privilege for Rest And there upon I gazed as at a stranger The Lady in the Town Doth think

Whose cheek is this? What rosy face Has lost a blush today? I found her “pleiad” in the woods And bore her safe away. Robins, in the tradition Did cover such with leaves, But

I’m ceded I’ve stopped being Theirs The name They dropped upon my face With water, in the country church Is finished using, now, And They can put it with my Dolls, My childhood, and

The Wind begun to rock the Grass With threatening Tunes and low He threw a Menace at the Earth A Menace at the Sky. The Leaves unhooked themselves from Trees And started all abroad

How noteless Men, and Pleiads, stand, Until a sudden sky Reveals the fact that One is rapt Forever from the Eye Members of the Invisible, Existing, while we stare, In Leagueless Opportunity, O’ertakenless, as

I lost a World the other day! Has Anybody found? You’ll know it by the Row of Stars Around its forehead bound. A Rich man might not notice it Yet to my frugal Eye,

Mute thy Coronation Meek my Vive le roi, Fold a tiny courtier In thine Ermine, Sir, There to rest revering Till the pageant by, I can murmur broken, Master, It was I

When I count the seeds That are sown beneath, To bloom so, bye and bye When I con the people Lain so low, To be received as high When I believe the garden Mortal

Removed from Accident of Loss By Accident of Gain Befalling not my simple Days Myself had just to earn Of Riches as unconscious As is the Brown Malay Of Pearls in Eastern Waters, Marked

Which is best? Heaven Or only Heaven to come With that old Codicil of Doubt? I cannot help esteem The “Bird within the Hand” Superior to the one The “Bush” may yield me Or

I took my power in my hand And went AGAINST the world ‘Twas not so much as David had But I was twice as bold I aimed by pebble, but myself Was ALL the

You see I cannot see your lifetime I must guess How many times it ache for me today Confess How many times for my far sake The brave eyes film But I guess guessing

The harm of Years is on him The infamy of Time Depose him like a Fashion And give Dominion room. Forget his Morning Forces The Glory of Decay Is a minuter Pageant Than least

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

It’s easy to invent a Life God does it every Day Creation but the Gambol Of His Authority It’s easy to efface it The thrifty Deity Could scarce afford Eternity To Spontaneity The Perished

I saw that the Flake was on it But plotted with Time to dispute “Unchanged” I urged with a candor That cost me my honest Heart But “you” she returned with valor Sagacious of

Teach Him When He makes the names Such an one to say On his babbling Berry lips As should sound to me Were my Ear as near his nest As my thought today As

All forgot for recollecting Just a paltry One All forsook, for just a Stranger’s New Accompanying Grace of Wealth, and Grace of Station Less accounted than An unknown Esteem possessing Estimate Who can Home

There is a Shame of Nobleness Confronting Sudden Pelf A finer Shame of Ecstasy Convicted of Itself A best Disgrace a Brave Man feels Acknowledged of the Brave One More “Ye Blessed” to be

No Notice gave She, but a Change No Message, but a Sigh For Whom, the Time did not suffice That She should specify. She was not warm, though Summer shone Nor scrupulous of cold

The Heart has narrow Banks It measures like the Sea In mighty unremitting Bass And Blue Monotony Till Hurricane bisect And as itself discerns Its insufficient Area The Heart convulsive learns That Calm is

Bloom is Result to meet a Flower And casually glance Would scarcely cause one to suspect The minor Circumstance Assisting in the Bright Affair So intricately done Then offered as a Butterfly To the

She laid her docile Crescent down And this confiding Stone Still states to Dates that have forgot The News that she is gone So constant to its stolid trust, The Shaft that never knew

The Road to Paradise is plain, And holds scarce one. Not that it is not firm But we presume A Dimpled Road Is more preferred. The Belles of Paradise are few Not me nor

Its Hour with itself The Spirit never shows. What Terror would enthrall the Street Could Countenance disclose The Subterranean Freight The Cellars of the Soul Thank God the loudest Place he made Is license

The One who could repeat the Summer day Were greater than itself though He Minutest of Mankind should be And He could reproduce the Sun At period of going down The Lingering and the

Savior! I’ve no one else to tell And so I trouble thee. I am the one forgot thee so Dost thou remember me? Nor, for myself, I came so far That were the little

Two swimmers wrestled on the spar Until the morning sun When One turned smiling to the land Oh God! the Other One! The stray ships passing Spied a face Upon the waters borne With

How know it from a Summer’s Day? Its Fervors are as firm And nothing in the Countenance But scintillates the same Yet Birds examine it and flee And Vans without a name Inspect the

Rearrange a “Wife’s” affection! When they dislocate my Brain! Amputate my freckled Bosom! Make me bearded like a man! Blush, my spirit, in thy Fastness Blush, my unacknowledged clay Seven years of troth have

When I was small, a Woman died Today her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac His face all Victory To look at her How slowly The Seasons must have turned Till Bullets clipt

The Moon is distant from the Sea And yet, with Amber Hands She leads Him docile as a Boy Along appointed Sands He never misses a Degree Obedient to Her Eye He comes just

She sped as Petals of a Rose Offended by the Wind A frail Aristocrat of Time Indemnity to find Leaving on nature a Default As Cricket or as Bee But Andes in the Bosoms

If those I loved were lost The Crier’s voice would tell me If those I loved were found The bells of Ghent would ring Did those I loved repose The Daisy would impel me.

A House upon the Height That Wagon never reached No Dead, were ever carried down No Peddler’s Cart approached Whose Chimney never smoked Whose Windows Night and Morn Caught Sunrise first and Sunset last

Of the Heart that goes in, and closes the Door Shall the Playfellow Heart complain Though the Ring is unwhole, and the Company broke Can never be fitted again?

Musicians wrestle everywhere All day among the crowded air I hear the silver strife And walking long before the morn Such transport breaks upon the town I think it that “New Life”! If is

He parts Himself like Leaves And then He closes up Then stands upon the Bonnet Of Any Buttercup And then He runs against And oversets a Rose And then does Nothing Then away upon

If I shouldn’t be alive When the Robins come, Give the one in Red Cravat, A Memorial crumb. If I couldn’t thank you, Being fast asleep, You will know I’m trying Why my Granite

I know of people in the Grave Who would be very glad To know the news I know tonight If they the chance had had. ‘Tis this expands the least event And swells the

‘Tis not that Dying hurts us so ‘Tis Living hurts us more But Dying is a different way A Kind behind the Door The Southern Custom of the Bird That ere the Frosts are

Dare you see a Soul at the White Heat? Then crouch within the door Red is the Fire’s common tint But when the vivid Ore Has vanquished Flame’s conditions, It quivers from the Forge

The Rose did caper on her cheek Her Bodice rose and fell Her pretty speech like drunken men Did stagger pitiful Her fingers fumbled at her work Her needle would not go What ailed

It will be Summer eventually. Ladies with parasols Sauntering Gentlemen with Canes And little Girls with Dolls Will tint the pallid landscape As ’twere a bright Bouquet Thro’ drifted deep, in Parian The Village

The Soul should always stand ajar That if the Heaven inquire He will not be obliged to wait Or shy of troubling Her Depart, before the Host have slid The Bolt unto the Door

It bloomed and dropt, a Single Noon The Flower distinct and Red I, passing, thought another Noon Another in its stead Will equal glow, and thought no More But came another Day To find

The Color of the Grave is Green The Outer Grave I mean You would not know it from the Field Except it own a Stone To help the fond to find it Too infinite

Advance is Life’s condition The Grave but a Relay Supposed to be a terminus That makes it hated so The Tunnel is not lighted Existence with a wall Is better we consider Than not

‘Tis Seasons since the Dimpled War In which we each were Conqueror And each of us were slain And Centuries ’twill be and more Another Massacre before So modest and so vain Without a

Our share of night to bear Our share of morning Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning Here a star, and there a star, Some lose their way! Here a mist,

We send the Wave to find the Wave An Errand so divine, The Messenger enamored too, Forgetting to return, We make the wise distinction still, Soever made in vain, The sagest time to dam

It might be lonelier Without the Loneliness I’m so accustomed to my Fate Perhaps the Other Peace Would interrupt the Dark And crowd the little Room Too scant by Cubits to contain The Sacrament

I thought that nature was enough Till Human nature came But that the other did absorb As Parallax a Flame Of Human nature just aware There added the Divine Brief struggle for capacity The

Is Bliss then, such Abyss, I must not put my foot amiss For fear I spoil my shoe? I’d rather suit my foot Than save my Boot For yet to buy another Pair Is

What is “Paradise” Who live there Are they “Farmers” Do they “hoe” Do they know that this is “Amherst” And that I am coming too Do they wear “new shoes” in “Eden” Is it

Good night, because we must, How intricate the dust! I would go, to know! Oh incognito! Saucy, Saucy Seraph To elude me so! Father! they won’t tell me, Won’t you tell them to?

Life is what we make of it Death we do not know Christ’s acquaintance with Him Justify Him though He would trust no stranger Other could betray Just His own endorsement That sufficeth Me

I worked for chaff and earning Wheat Was haughty and betrayed. What right had Fields to arbitrate In matters ratified? I tasted Wheat and hated Chaff And thanked the ample friend Wisdom is more

For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ration To the ecstasy. For each beloved hour Sharp pittances of years Bitter contested farthings And Coffers heaped with Tears!

Of Bronze and Blaze The North Tonight So adequate it forms So preconcerted with itself So distant to alarms And Unconcern so sovereign To Universe, or me Infects my simple spirit With Taints of

‘Tis easier to pity those when dead That which pity previous Would have saved A Tragedy enacted Secures Applause That Tragedy enacting Too seldom does.

I cannot want it more I cannot want it less My Human Nature’s fullest force Expends itself on this. And yet it nothing is To him who easy owns Is Worth itself or Distance

Forever it composed of Nows ‘Tis not a different time Except for Infiniteness And Latitude of Home From this experienced Here Remove the Dates to These Let Months dissolve in further Months And Years

Abraham to kill him Was distinctly told Isaac was an Urchin Abraham was old Not a hesitation Abraham complied Flattered by Obeisance Tyranny demurred Isaac to his children Lived to tell the tale Moral

Smiling back from Coronation May be Luxury On the Heads that started with us Being’s Peasantry Recognizing in Procession Ones We former knew When Ourselves were also dusty Centuries ago Had the Triumph no

Peril as a Possesssion ‘Tis Good to hear Danger disintegrates Satiety There’s Basis there Begets an awe That searches Human Nature’s creases As clean as Fire.

Who never lost, are unprepared A Coronet to find! Who never thirsted Flagons, and Cooling Tamarind! Who never climbed the weary league Can such a foot explore The purple territories On Pizarro’s shore? How

On such a night, or such a night, Would anybody care If such a little figure Slipped quiet from its chair So quiet Oh how quiet, That nobody might know But that the little

Death warrants are supposed to be An enginery of equity A merciful mistake A pencil in an Idol’s Hand A Devotee has oft consigned To Crucifix or Block

To disappear enhances The Man that runs away Is tinctured for an instant With Immortality But yesterday a Vagrant Today in Memory lain With superstitious value We tamper with “Again” But “Never” far as

‘Twould ease a Butterfly Elate a Bee Thou’rt neither Neither thy capacity But, Blossom, were I, I would rather be Thy moment Than a Bee’s Eternity Content of fading Is enough for me Fade

The joy that has no stem no core, Nor seed that we can sow, Is edible to longing. But ablative to show. By fundamental palates Those products are preferred Impregnable to transit And patented

I know lives, I could miss Without a Misery Others whose instant’s wanting Would be Eternity The last a scanty Number ‘Twould scarcely fill a Two The first a Gnat’s Horizon Could easily outgrow

The Popular Heart is a Cannon first Subsequent a Drum Bells for an Auxiliary And an Afterward of Rum Not a Tomorrow to know its name Nor a Past to stare Ditches for Realms

I learned at least what Home could be How ignorant I had been Of pretty ways of Covenant How awkward at the Hymn Round our new Fireside but for this This pattern of the

Our little Kinsmen after Rain In plenty may be seen, A Pink and Pulpy multitude The tepid Ground upon. A needless life, it seemed to me Until a little Bird As to a Hospitality

The Poets light but Lamps Themselves go out The Wicks they stimulate If vital Light Inhere as do the Suns Each Age a Lens Disseminating their Circumference

The Future never spoke Nor will He like the Dumb Reveal by sign a syllable Of His Profound To Come But when the News be ripe Presents it in the Act Forestalling Preparation Escape

Victory comes late And is held low to freezing lips Too rapt with frost To take it How sweet it would have tasted Just a Drop Was God so economical? His Table’s spread too

How soft a Caterpillar steps I fond one on my Hand From such a velvet world it comes Such plushes at command Its soundless travels just arrest My slow terrestrial eye Intent upon its

Spring comes on the World I sight the Aprils Hueless to me until thou come As, till the Bee Blossoms stand negative, Touched to Conditions By a Hum.

Bereaved of all, I went abroad No less bereaved was I Upon a New Peninsula The Grave preceded me Obtained my Lodgings, ere myself And when I sought my Bed The Grave it was

At leisure is the Soul That gets a Staggering Blow The Width of Life before it spreads Without a thing to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or

The Symptom of the Gale The Second of Dismay Between its Rumor and its Face Is almost Revelry The Houses firmer root The Heavens cannot be found The Upper Surfaces of things Take covert

Funny to be a Century And see the People going by I should die of the Oddity But then I’m not so staid as He He keeps His Secrets safely very Were He to

All these my banners be. I sow my pageantry In May It rises train by train Then sleeps in state again My chancel all the plain Today. To lose if one can find again

The ones that disappeared are back The Phoebe and the Crow Precisely as in March is heard The curtness of the Jay Be this an Autumn or a Spring My wisdom loses way One

Departed to the Judgment A Mighty Afternoon Great Clouds like Ushers learning Creation looking on The Flesh Surrendered Cancelled The Bodiless begun Two Worlds like Audiences disperse And leave the Soul alone

Great Streets of silence led away To Neighborhoods of Pause Here was no Notice no Dissent No Universe no laws By Clocks, ’twas Morning, and for Night The Bells at Distance called But Epoch

There is a Zone whose even Years No Solstice interrupt Whose Sun constructs perpetual Noon Whose perfect Seasons wait Whose Summer set in Summer, till The Centuries of June And Centuries of August cease

As far from pity, as complaint As cool to speech as stone As numb to Revelation As if my Trade were Bone As far from time as History As near yourself Today As Children,

It did not surprise me So I said or thought She will stir her pinions And the nest forgot, Traverse broader forests Build in gayer boughs, Breathe in Ear more modern God’s old fashioned

Sweet, to have had them lost For news that they be saved The nearer they departed Us The nearer they, restored, Shall stand to Our Right Hand Most precious and the Dead Next precious

On my volcano grows the Grass A meditative spot An acre for a Bird to choose Would be the General thought How red the Fire rocks below How insecure the sod Did I disclose

Said Death to Passion “Give of thine an Acre unto me.” Said Passion, through contracting Breaths “A Thousand Times Thee Nay.” Bore Death from Passion All His East He sovereign as the Sun Resituated

Of Being is a Bird The likest to the Down An Easy Breeze do put afloat The General Heavens upon It soars and shifts and whirls And measures with the Clouds In easy even

His Feet are shod with Gauze His Helmet, is of Gold, His Breast, a Single Onyx With Chrysophrase, inlaid. His Labor is a Chant His Idleness a Tune Oh, for a Bee’s experience Of

The Frost was never seen If met, too rapid passed, Or in too unsubstantial Team The Flowers notice first A Stranger hovering round A Symptom of alarm In Villages remotely set But search effaces

Had I known that the first was the last I should have kept it longer. Had I known that the last was the first I should have drunk it stronger. Cup, it was your

Snow flakes. I counted till they danced so Their slippers leaped the town, And then I took a pencil To note the rebels down. And then they grew so jolly I did resign the

Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity Unable they that love to die For Love reforms Vitality Into Divinity.

Within my Garden, rides a Bird Upon a single Wheel Whose spokes a dizzy Music make As ’twere a travelling Mill He never stops, but slackens Above the Ripest Rose Partakes without alighting And

Doom is the House without the Door ‘Tis entered from the Sun And then the Ladder’s thrown away, Because Escape is done ‘Tis varied by the Dream Of what they do outside Where Squirrels

Not probable The barest Chance A smile too few a word too much And far from Heaven as the Rest The Soul so close on Paradise What if the Bird from journey far Confused

No Other can reduce Our mortal Consequence Like the remembering it be nought A Period from hence But Contemplation for Contemporaneous Nought Our Single Competition Jehovah’s Estimate.

Dying! To be afraid of thee One must to thine Artillery Have left exposed a Friend Than thine old Arrow is a Shot Delivered straighter to the Heart The leaving Love behind. Not for

When we have ceased to care The Gift is given For which we gave the Earth And mortgaged Heaven But so declined in worth ‘Tis ignominy now To look upon

After all Birds have been investigated and laid aside Nature imparts the little Blue-Bird assured Her conscientious Voice will soar unmoved Above ostensible Vicissitude. First at the March competing with the Wind Her panting

I know a place where Summer strives With such a practised Frost She each year leads her Daisies back Recording briefly “Lost” But when the South Wind stirs the Pools And struggles in the

I can wade Grief Whole Pools of it I’m used to that But the least push of Joy Breaks up my feet And I tip drunken Let no Pebble smile ‘Twas the New Liquor

Did we disobey Him? Just one time! Charged us to forget Him But we couldn’t learn! Were Himself such a Dunce What would we do? Love the dull lad best Oh, wouldn’t you?

One thing of it we borrow And promise to return The Booty and the Sorrow Its Sweetness to have known One thing of it we covet The power to forget The Anguish of the

Winter is good his Hoar Delights Italic flavor yield To Intellects inebriate With Summer, or the World Generic as a Quarry And hearty as a Rose Invited with Asperity But welcome when he goes.

The face I carry with me last When I go out of Time To take my Rank by in the West That face will just be thine I’ll hand it to the Angel That

My best Acquaintances are those With Whom I spoke no Word The Stars that stated come to Town Esteemed Me never rude Although to their Celestial Call I failed to make reply My constant

Forever honored by the Tree Whose Apple Winterworn Enticed to Breakfast from the Sky Two Gabriels Yestermorn. They registered in Nature’s Book As Robins Sire and Son But Angels have that modest way To

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 thro endless

So much of Heaven has gone from Earth That there must be a Heaven If only to enclose the Saints To Affidavit given. The Missionary to the Mole Must prove there is a Sky

Because He loves Her We will pry and see if she is fair What difference is on her Face From Features others wear. It will not harm her magic pace That we so far

‘Tis One by One the Father counts And then a Tract between Set Cypherless to teach the Eye The Value of its Ten Until the peevish Student Acquire the Quick of Skill Then Numerals

Safe Despair it is that raves Agony is frugal. Puts itself severe away For its own perusal. Garrisoned no Soul can be In the Front of Trouble Love is one, not aggregate Nor is

We talked with each other about each other Though neither of us spoke We were listening to the seconds’ Races And the Hoofs of the Clock Pausing in Front of our Palsied Faces Time

How dare the robins sing, When men and women hear Who since they went to their account Have settled with the year! Paid all that life had earned In one consummate bill, And now,

The Stars are old, that stood for me The West a little worn Yet newer glows the only Gold I ever cared to earn Presuming on that lone result Her infinite disdain But vanquished

The Battle fought between the Soul And No Man is the One Of all the Battles prevalent By far the Greater One No News of it is had abroad Its Bodiless Campaign Establishes, and

The Love a Life can show Below Is but a filament, I know, Of that diviner thing That faints upon the face of Noon And smites the Tinder in the Sun And hinders Gabriel’s

These tested Our Horizon Then disappeared As Birds before achieving A Latitude. Our Retrospection of Them A fixed Delight, But our Anticipation A Dice a Doubt

The Brain is wider than the Sky For put them side by side The one the other will contain With ease and You beside The Brain is deeper than the sea For hold them

Conscious am I in my Chamber, Of a shapeless friend He doth not attest by Posture Nor Confirm by Word Neither Place need I present Him Fitter Courtesy Hospitable intuition Of His Company Presence

You’ll know it as you know ’tis Noon By Glory As you do the Sun By Glory As you will in Heaven Know God the Father and the Son. By intuition, Mightiest Things Assert

So much Summer Me for showing Illegitimate Would a Smile’s minute bestowing Too exorbitant To the Lady With the Guinea Look if She should know Crumb of Mine A Robin’s Larder Would suffice to

Did you ever stand in a Cavern’s Mouth Widths out of the Sun And look and shudder, and block your breath And deem to be alone In such a place, what horror, How Goblin

God made a little Gentian It tried to be a Rose And failed and all the Summer laughed But just before the Snows There rose a Purple Creature That ravished all the Hill And

The Birds reported from the South A News express to Me A spicy Charge, My little Posts But I am deaf Today The Flowers appealed a timid Throng I reinforced the Door Go blossom

Beauty be not caused It Is Chase it, and it ceases Chase it not, and it abides Overtake the Creases In the Meadow when the Wind Runs his fingers thro’ it Deity will see

Tho’ I get home how late how late So I get home – ’twill compensate Better will be the Ecstasy That they have done expecting me When Night descending dumb and dark They hear

Alone, I cannot be For Hosts do visit me Recordless Company Who baffle Key They have no Robes, nor Names No Almanacs nor Climes But general Homes Like Gnomes Their Coming, may be known

It feels a shame to be Alive When Men so brave are dead One envies the Distinguished Dust Permitted such a Head The Stone that tells defending Whom This Spartan put away What little

All Circumstances are the Frame In which His Face is set All Latitudes exist for His Sufficient Continent The Light His Action, and the Dark The Leisure of His Will In Him Existence serve

Many a phrase has the English language I have heard but one Low as the laughter of the Cricket, Loud, as the Thunder’s Tongue Murmuring, like old Caspian Choirs, When the Tide’s a’ lull

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

A little bread a crust a crumb A little trust a demijohn Can keep the soul alive Not portly, mind! but breathing warm Conscious as old Napoleon, The night before the Crown! A modest

A still Volcano Life That flickered in the night When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight A quiet Earthquake Style Too subtle to suspect By natures this side Naples The North