Home ⇒ 📌Emily Dickinson ⇒ He touched me, so I live to know
He touched me, so I live to know
He touched me, so I live to know
That such a day, permitted so,
I groped upon his breast
It was a boundless place to me
And silenced, as the awful sea
Puts minor streams to rest.
And now, I’m different from before,
As if I breathed superior air
Or brushed a Royal Gown
My feet, too, that had wandered so
My Gypsy face transfigured now
To tenderer Renown
Into this Port, if I might come,
Rebecca, to Jerusalem,
Would not so ravished turn
Nor Persian, baffled at her shrine
Lift such a Crucifixial sign
To her imperial Sun.
(2 votes, average: 2.50 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- Fear Not, Dear Friend, But Freely Live Your Days FEAR not, dear friend, but freely live your days Though lesser lives should suffer. Such am I, A lesser life, that what is his of sky Gladly would give for you, and what of praise. Step, without trouble, down the sunlit ways. We that have touched your raiment, are made whole From all the selfish […]...
- The Sun just touched the Morning 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 What Holiday! Meanwhile Her wheeling King Trailed slow along the Orchards His haughty spangled Hems Leaving a new necessity! The want […]...
- Most she touched me by her muteness Most she touched me by her muteness Most she won me by the way She presented her small figure Plea itself for Charity Were a Crumb my whole possession Were there famine in the land Were it my resource from starving Could I such a plea withstand Not upon her knee to thank me Sank […]...
- One of the ones that Midas touched One of the ones that Midas touched Who failed to touch us all Was that confiding Prodigal The reeling Oriole So drunk he disavows it With badinage divine So dazzling we mistake him For an alighting Mine A Pleader a Dissembler An Epicure a Thief Betimes an Oratorio An Ecstasy in chief The Jesuit of […]...
- We knew not that we were to live We knew not that we were to live Nor when we are to die Our ignorance our cuirass is We wear Mortality As lightly as an Option Gown Till asked to take it off By his intrusion, God is known It is the same with Life...
- The Lamentation Of The Old Pensioner Although I shelter from the rain Under a broken tree, My chair was nearest to the fire In every company That talked of love or politics, Ere Time transfigured me. Though lads are making pikes again For some conspiracy, And crazy rascals rage their fill At human tyranny, My contemplations are of Time That has […]...
- Touched my family Even from afar came shouts of recognition Joyful voices rang across the years disdained and Faces of our childhood unforgot fit instantly familiar names; Voices still the same despite the extra grey, the extra lines, Like sacred family metaphors not blurred with passing time. Uncles greeted cousins, nieces hailed their aunts in private spaces Kept […]...
- Encounter Those who have touched it or been touched by it Or brushed by something that the vine has brushed, Or burning it, have stood where the sly smoke Has touched them-Know the meaning of its name. The leaf is smooth. Its green is innocence. A clean, unblemished leaf, glossy when young. A leaf the unobserving […]...
- I live with Him I see His face I live with Him I see His face I go no more away For Visitor or Sundown Death’s single privacy The Only One forestalling Mine And that by Right that He Presents a Claim invisible No wedlock granted Me I live with Him I hear His Voice I stand alive Today To witness to the […]...
- TO PHILLIS, TO LOVE AND LIVE WITH HIM Live, live with me, and thou shalt see The pleasures I’ll prepare for thee: What sweets the country can afford Shall bless thy bed, and bless thy board. The soft sweet moss shall be thy bed, With crawling woodbine over-spread: By which the silver-shedding streams Shall gently melt thee into dreams. Thy clothing next, shall […]...
- The Return They turned him loose; he bowed his head, A felon, bent and grey. His face was even as the Dead, He had no word to say. He sought the home of his old love, To look on her once more; And where her roses breathed above, He cowered beside the door. She sat there in […]...
- I cannot live with You I cannot live with You It would be Life And Life is over there Behind the Shelf The Sexton keeps the Key to Putting up Our Life His Porcelain Like a Cup Discarded of the Housewife Quaint or Broke A newer Sevres pleases Old Ones crack I could not die with You For One must […]...
- Roofs (For Amelia Josephine Burr) The road is wide and the stars are out And the breath of the night is sweet, And this is the time when wanderlust should seize upon my feet. But I’m glad to turn from the open road and the starlight on my Face, And to leave the splendour of out-of-doors […]...
- For largest Woman's Hearth I knew For largest Woman’s Hearth I knew ‘Tis little I can do And yet the largest Woman’s Heart Could hold an Arrow too And so, instructed by my own, I tenderer, turn Me to....
- John Wasson Oh! the dew-wet grass of the meadow in North Carolina Through which Rebecca followed me wailing, wailing, One child in her arms, and three that ran along wailing, Lengthening out the farewell to me off to the war with the British, And then the long, hard years down to the day of Yorktown. And then […]...
- Jerusalem and redcurrants my jerusalem My newfoundland Juicy as redcurrants With their sweet tang taste My desire My holy requirement Caught in a cleft of mountain Ever clambered towards My yearning My place of the blood-red fruit My want at the first sherd For the full-bosomed bowl My jerusalem My sinewy prayer Where dust and the dry rock […]...
- Sonnet 93: So shall I live, supposing thou art true So shall I live, supposing thou art true, Like a deceivèd husband; so love’s face May still seem love to me, though altered new, Thy looks with me, thy heart in other place. For there can live no hatred in thine eye, Therefore in that I cannot know thy change. In many’s looks, the false […]...
- A Letter to a Live Poet Sir, since the last Elizabethan died, Or, rather, that more Paradisal muse, Blind with much light, passed to the light more glorious Or deeper blindness, no man’s hand, as thine, Has, on the world’s most noblest chord of song, Struck certain magic strains. Ears satiate With the clamorous, timorous whisperings of to-day, Thrilled to perceive […]...
- In A Year Never any more, While I live, Need I hope to see his face As before. Once his love grown chill, Mine may strive: Bitterly we re-embrace, Single still. II. Was it something said, Something done, Vexed him? was it touch of hand, Turn of head? Strange! that very way Love begun: I as little understand […]...
- I Live In The Twentieth Century I live in the Twentieth Century And you lie here beside me. You Were unhappy when you fell asleep. There was nothing I could do about It. I felt hopeless. Your face Is so beautiful that I cannot stop To describe it, and there’s nothing I can do to make you happy while You sleep....
- Touched by An Angel We, unaccustomed to courage Exiles from delight Live coiled in shells of loneliness Until love leaves its high holy temple And comes into our sight To liberate us into life. Love arrives And in its train come ecstasies Old memories of pleasure Ancient histories of pain. Yet if we are bold, Love strikes away the […]...
- Those not live yet Those not live yet Who doubt to live again “Again” is of a twice But this is one The Ship beneath the Draw Aground is he? Death so the Hyphen of the Sea Deep is the Schedule Of the Disk to be Costumeless Consciousness That is he...
- Could live did live Could live did live Could die did die Could smile upon the whole Through faith in one he met not, To introduce his soul. Could go from scene familiar To an untraversed spot Could contemplate the journey With unpuzzled heart Such trust had one among us, Among us not today We who saw the launching […]...
- She could not live upon the Past 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 either Duke or Robin...
- I think to Live may be a Bliss 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 me The Other, like the little Bank Appear unto the Sea I think the Days could every one In Ordination stand […]...
- The New Jerusalem And did those feet in ancient time Walk upon England’s mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God On England’s pleasant pastures seen? And did the Countenance Divine Shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem builded here Among these dark Satanic Mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold! Bring me my […]...
- And Did Those Feet In Ancient Time And did those feet in ancient time Walk upon England’s mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God On England’s pleasant pastures seen? And did the Countenance Divine Shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem builded here Among these dark satanic mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold! Bring me my […]...
- From Milton: And did those feet And did those feet in ancient time Walk upon England’s mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God On England’s pleasant pastures seen? And did the Countenance Divine Shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem builded here, Among these dark Satanic Mills? Bring me my Bow of burning gold: Bring me my […]...
- Where We Live Now 1 We live here because the houses Are clean, the lawns run Right to the street And the streets run away. No one walks here. No one wakens at night or dies. The cars sit open-eyed In the driveways. The lights are on all day. 2 At home forever, she has removed Her long foreign […]...
- There is a June when Corn is cut There is a June when Corn is cut And Roses in the Seed A Summer briefer than the first But tenderer indeed As should a Face supposed the Grave’s Emerge a single Noon In the Vermilion that it wore Affect us, and return Two Seasons, it is said, exist The Summer of the Just, And […]...
- We Bee and I live by the quaffing We Bee and I live by the quaffing ‘Tisn’t all Hock with us Life has its Ale But it’s many a lay of the Dim Burgundy We chant for cheer when the Wines fail Do we “get drunk”? Ask the jolly Clovers! Do we “beat” our “Wife”? I never wed Bee pledges his in minute […]...
- Live Live or die, but don’t poison everything… Well, death’s been here For a long time It has a hell of a lot To do with hell And suspicion of the eye And the religious objects And how I mourned them When they were made obscene By my dwarf-heart’s doodle. The chief ingredient Is mutilation. And […]...
- Flora I am the handmaid of the earth, I broider fair her glorious gown, And deck her on her days of mirth With many a garland of renown. And while Earth’s little ones are fain And play about the Mother’s hem, I scatter every gift I gain From sun and wind to gladden them....
- To Live We both have our hands to give Take mine I shall lead you afar I have lived several times my face hasw changed With every threshold I have crossed and every hand clasped Familial springtime was reborn Keeping for itself and for me its perishable snow Death and the betrothed The future with five fingers […]...
- The Gardener XXII: When She Passed by Me When she passed by me with quick Steps, the end of her skirt touched Me. From the unknown island of a Heart came a sudden warm breath of Spring. A flutter of a flitting touch brushed Me and vanished in a moment, like a Torn flower petal blown in the breeze. It fell upon my […]...
- Forget! The lady with the Amulet Forget! The lady with the Amulet Forget she wore it at her Heart Because she breathed against Was Treason twixt? Deny! Did Rose her Bee For Privilege of Play Or Wile of Butterfly Or Opportunity Her Lord away? The lady with the Amulet will face The Bee in Mausoleum laid Discard his Bride But longer […]...
- On Fame Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy To those who woo her with too slavish knees, But makes surrender to some thoughtless boy, And dotes the more upon a heart at ease; She is a Gypsy,-will not speak to those Who have not learnt to be content without her; A Jilt, whose ear […]...
- The Sun kept setting setting still The Sun kept setting setting still No Hue of Afternoon Upon the Village I perceived From House to House ’twas Noon The Dusk kept dropping dropping still No Dew upon the Grass But only on my Forehead stopped And wandered in my Face My Feet kept drowsing drowsing still My fingers were awake Yet why […]...
- In falling Timbers buried In falling Timbers buried There breathed a Man Outside the spades were plying The Lungs within Could He know they sought Him Could They know He breathed Horrid Sand Partition Neither could be heard Never slacked the Diggers But when Spades had done Oh, Reward of Anguish, It was dying Then Many Things are fruitless […]...
- Hotel Insomnia I liked my little hole, Its window facing a brick wall. Next door there was a piano. A few evenings a month A crippled old man came to play “My Blue Heaven.” Mostly, though, it was quiet. Each room with its spider in heavy overcoat Catching his fly with a web Of cigarette smoke and […]...