Home ⇒ 📌Emily Dickinson ⇒ She dwelleth in the Ground
She dwelleth in the Ground
She dwelleth in the Ground
Where Daffodils abide
Her Maker Her Metropolis
The Universe Her Maid
To fetch Her Grace and Hue
And Fairness and Renown
The Firmament’s To Pluck Her
And fetch Her Thee be mine
(2 votes, average: 3.50 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- Off the Ground Three jolly Farmers Once bet a pound Each dance the others would Off the ground. Out of their coats They slipped right soon, And neat and nicesome Put each his shoon. One Two Three! And away they go, Not too fast, And not too slow; Out from the elm-tree’s Noonday shadow, Into the sun And […]...
- Off to the Fishing Ground There’s a piping wind from a sunrise shore Blowing over a silver sea, There’s a joyous voice in the lapsing tide That calls enticingly; The mist of dawn has taken flight To the dim horizon’s bound, And with wide sails set and eager hearts We’re off to the fishing ground. Ho, comrades mine, how that […]...
- About The Sheltered Garden Ground ABOUT the sheltered garden ground The trees stand strangely still. The vale ne’er seemed so deep before, Nor yet so high the hill. An awful sense of quietness, A fulness of repose, Breathes from the dewy garden-lawns, The silent garden rows. As the hoof-beats of a troop of horse Heard far across a plain, A […]...
- Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground. Why do you stand, expectant? Do you hope to see it In one of your withered days? With your old eyes Do you hope to see The triumphal march of justice? Do not wait, friend! Take your white beard And your old eyes To more tender lands....
- Dedication For A Plot Of Ground This plot of ground Facing the waters of this inlet Is dedicated to the living presence of Emily Dickinson Wellcome Who was born in England; married; Lost her husband and with Her five year old son Sailed for New York in a two-master; Was driven to the Azores; Ran adrift on Fire Island shoal, Met […]...
- Ode To a Chestnut on the Ground From bristly foliage You fell Complete, polished wood, gleaming mahogany, As perfect As a violin newly Born of the treetops, That falling Offers its sealed-in gifts, The hidden sweetness That grew in secret Amid birds and leaves, A model of form, Kin to wood and flour, An oval instrument That holds within it Intact delight, […]...
- Perhaps I asked too large Perhaps I asked too large I take no less than skies For Earths, grow thick as Berries, in my native town My Basked holds just Firmaments Those dangle easy on my arm, But smaller bundles Cram....
- 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
- Sonnet 43 – How do I love thee? Let me count the ways How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday’s Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee […]...
- Somewhere upon the general Earth Somewhere upon the general Earth Itself exist Today The Magic passive but extant That consecrated me Indifferent Seasons doubtless play Where I for right to be Would pay each Atom that I am But Immortality Reserving that but just to prove Another Date of Thee Oh God of Width, do not for us Curtail Eternity!...
- Forget-Me-Not A gallant knight and his betroth’d bride, Were walking one day by a river side, They talk’d of love, and they talk’d of war, And how very foolish lovers are. At length the bride to the knight did say, ‘There have been many young ladies led astray By believing in all their lovers said, And […]...
- As if some little Arctic flower 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, wandered in What then? Why nothing, Only, your […]...
- PEACEFUL GROUND Cool Morning spit on bladed grass. A Thousand silky fingers tickling toes. The strong scent of natures freshly cut hair. Mans spiritual stamping groung toward inner Peace....
- The Methodist Says Tom to Jack, ’tis very odd, These representatives of God, In color, way of life and evil, Should be so very like the devil. Jack, understand, was one of those, Who mould religion in the rose, A red hot methodist; his face Was full of puritanic grace, His loose lank hair, his slow gradation, […]...
- My River runs to thee My River runs to thee Blue Sea! Wilt welcome me? My River wait reply Oh Sea look graciously I’ll fetch thee Brooks From spotted nooks Say Sea Take Me!...
- The Indian Burying Ground In spite of all the learn’d have said; I still my old opinion keep, The posture, that we give the dead, Points out the soul’s eternal sleep. Not so the ancients of these lands The Indian, when from life releas’d Again is seated with his friends, And shares gain the joyous feast. His imag’d birds, […]...
- The Gardener XVIII: When Two Sisters When the two sisters go to fetch Water, they come to this spot and They smile. They must be aware of somebody Who stands behind the trees when- Ever they go to fetch water. The two sisters whisper to each Other when they pass this spot. They must have guessed the secret Of that somebody […]...
- Uhland's There were three cavaliers that went over the Rhine, And gayly they called to the hostess for wine. “And where is thy daughter? We would she were here, Go fetch us that maiden to gladden our cheer!” “I’ll fetch thee thy goblets full foaming,” she said, “But in yon darkened chamber the maiden lies dead.” […]...
- Flower Pluck this little flower and take it, delay not! I fear lest it Droop and drop into the dust. I may not find a place in thy garland, but honour it with a touch of Pain from thy hand and pluck it. I fear lest the day end before I am Aware, and the time […]...
- Take One Home For The Kiddies On shallow straw, in shadeless glass, Huddled by empty bowls, they sleep: No dark, no dam, no earth, no grass – Mam, get us one of them to keep. Living toys are something novel, But it soon wears off somehow. Fetch the shoebox, fetch the shovel – Mam, we’re playing funerals now....
- The Blossom ON a day alack the day! Love, whose month is ever May, Spied a blossom passing fair Playing in the wanton air: Through the velvet leaves the wind All unseen ‘gan passage find; That the lover, sick to death, Wish’d himself the heaven’s breath. Air, quoth he, thy cheeks may blow; Air, would I might […]...
- The Red Blaze is the Morning The Red Blaze is the Morning The Violet is Noon The Yellow Day is falling And after that is none But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
- To be forgot by thee To be forgot by thee Surpasses Memory Of other minds The Heart cannot forget Unless it contemplate What it declines I was regarded then Raised from oblivion A single time To be remembered what Worthy to be forgot Is my renown...
- At leisure is the Soul 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 humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
- How many schemes may die How many schemes may die In one short Afternoon Entirely unknown To those they most concern The man that was not lost Because by accident He varied by a Ribbon’s width From his accustomed route The Love that would not try Because beside the Door It must be competitions Some unsuspecting Horse was tied Surveying […]...
- Sonnet XXXV: Some, Misbelieving To Miracle Some, misbelieving and profane in love, When I do speak of miracles by thee, May say, that thou art flattered by me, Who only write my skill in verse to prove. See miracles, ye unbelieving, see A dumb-born Muse made t’express the mind, A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind, One […]...
- Willard Fluke My wife lost her health, And dwindled until she weighed scarce ninety pounds. Then that woman, whom the men Styled Cleopatra, came along. And we we married ones All broke our vows, myself among the rest. Years passed and one by one Death claimed them all in some hideous form, And I was borne along […]...
- Facts by our side are never sudden 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 to his recognition By an Adieu Adieu for whence The sage cannot conjecture The bravest die As ignorant of their resumption […]...
- No Man can compass a Despair No Man can compass a Despair As round a Goalless Road No faster than a Mile at once The Traveller proceed Unconscious of the Width Unconscious that the Sun Be setting on His progress So accurate the One At estimating Pain Whose own has just begun His ignorance the Angel That pilot Him along...
- These are the Signs to Nature's Inns These are the Signs to Nature’s Inns Her invitation broad To Whosoever famishing To taste her mystic Bread These are the rites of Nature’s House The Hospitality That opens with an equal width To Beggar and to Bee For Sureties of her staunch Estate Her undecaying Cheer The Purple in the East is set And […]...
- If By Chance Your Eye Offend You If by chance your eye offend you, Pluck it out, lad, and be sound: ‘Twill hurt, but here are salves to friend you, And many a balsam grows on ground. And if your hand or foot offend you, Cut it off, lad, and be whole; But play the man, stand up and end you, When […]...
- Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
- Good Friday O my chief good, How shall I measure out thy blood? How shall I count what thee befell, And each grief tell? Shall I thy woes Number according to thy foes? Or, since one star show’d thy first breath, Shall all thy death? Or shall each leaf, Which falls in Autumn, score a grief? Or […]...
- The British Church I joy, dear mother, when I view Thy perfect lineaments, and hue Both sweet and bright. Beauty in thee takes up her place, And dates her letters from thy face, When she doth write. A fine aspect in fit array, Neither too mean nor yet too gay, Shows who is best. Outlandish looks may not […]...
- A fuzzy fellow, without feet A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun! Sometime, he dwelleth in the grass! Sometime, upon a bough, From which he doth descend in plush Upon the Passer-by! All this in summer. But when winds alarm the Forest Folk, He taketh Damask Residence And struts […]...
- Only a Shrine, but Mine Only a Shrine, but Mine I made the Taper shine Madonna dim, to whom all Feet may come, Regard a Nun Thou knowest every Woe Needless to tell thee so But can’st thou do The Grace next to it heal? That looks a harder skill to us Still just as easy, if it be thy […]...
- Veteran Sirens The ghost of Ninon would be sorry now To laugh at them, were she to see them here, So brave and so alert for learning how To fence with reason for another year. Age offers a far comelier diadem Than theirs; but anguish has no eye for grace, When time’s malicious mercy cautions them To […]...
- Two Loves One said; “Lo, I would walk hand-clasped with thee Adown the ways of joy and sunlit slopes Of earthly song in happiest vagrancy To pluck the blossom of a thousand hopes. Let us together drain the wide world’s cup With gladness brimméd up!” And one said, “I would pray to go with thee When sorrow […]...
- Oh Future! thou secreted peace Oh Future! thou secreted peace Or subterranean woe Is there no wandering route of grace That leads away from thee No circuit sage of all the course Descried by cunning Men To balk thee of thy sacred Prey Advancing to thy Den...
- Outside History These are outsiders, always. These stars- These iron inklings of an Irish January, Whose light happened Thousands of years before Our pain did; they are, they have always been Outside history. They keep their distance. Under them remains A place where you found You were human, and A landscape in which you know you are […]...