Home ⇒ 📌Emily Dickinson ⇒ The Bat is dun, with wrinkled Wings
The Bat is dun, with wrinkled Wings
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 Philosopher.
Deputed from what Firmament
Of what Astute Abode
Empowered with what Malignity
Auspiciously withheld
To his adroit Creator
Acribe no less the praise
Beneficent, believe me,
His Eccentricities
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- Come show thy Durham Breast Come show thy Durham Breast To her who loves thee best, Delicious Robin And if it be not me At least within my Tree Do the avowing Thy Nuptial so minute Perhaps is more astute Than vaster suing For so to soar away Is our propensity The Day ensuing...
- A single Clover Plank A single Clover Plank Was all that saved a Bee A Bee I personally knew From sinking in the sky ‘Twixt Firmament above And Firmament below The Billows of Circumference Were sweeping him away The idly swaying Plank Responsible to nought A sudden Freight of Wind assumed And Bumble Bee was not This harrowing event […]...
- Ah, Moon and Star! Ah, Moon and Star! You are very far But were no one Farther than you Do you think I’d stop For a Firmament Or a Cubit or so? I could borrow a Bonnet Of the Lark And a Chamois’ Silver Boot And a stirrup of an Antelope And be with you Tonight! But, Moon, and […]...
- Fluttered Wings The splendour of the kindling day, The splendor of the setting sun, These move my soul to wend its way, And have done With all we grasp and toil amongst and say. The paling roses of a cloud, The fading bow that arches space, These woo my fancy toward my shroud, Toward the place Of […]...
- The Cat With Wings You never saw a cat with wings, I’ll bet a dollar well, I did; ‘Twas one of those fantastic things One runs across in old Madrid. A walloping big tom it was, (Maybe of the Angora line), With silken ears and velvet paws, And silver hair, superbly fine. It sprawled upon a crimson mat, Yet […]...
- Easter Wings Lord, who createdst man in wealth and store, Though foolishly he lost the same, Decaying more and more, Till he became Most poor: With thee O let me rise As larks, harmoniously, And sing this day thy victories: Then shall the fall further the flight in me. My tender age in sorrow did begin: And […]...
- Timber Wings THERE was a wild pigeon came often to Hinkley’s timber. Gray wings that wrote their loops and triangles on the walnuts and the hazel. There was a wild pigeon. There was a summer came year by year to Hinkley’s timber. Rainy months and sunny and pigeons calling and one pigeon best of all who came. […]...
- Drying Their Wings What the Carpenter Said THE moon’s a cottage with a door. Some folks can see it plain. Look, you may catch a glint of light, A sparkle through the pane, Showing the place is brighter still Within, though bright without. There, at a cosy open fire Strange babes are grouped about. The children of the […]...
- Covering Wings Love! Love! Your tenderness, Your beautiful, watchful ways Grasp me, fold me, cover me; I lie in a kind of daze, Neither asleep nor yet awake, Neither a bud nor flower. Brings to-morrow Joy or sorrow, The black or the golden hour? Love! Love! You pity me so! Chide me, scold me cry, “Submit submit! […]...
- Bird With Two Right Wings And now our government A bird with two right wings Flies on from zone to zone While we go on having our little fun & games At each election As if it really mattered who the pilot is Of Air Force One (They’re interchangeable, stupid!) While this bird with two right wings Flies right on […]...
- Lethargy of leaden wings I hadn’t had the ‘flu in ages, avoided all those awful places Fraught of gritty eyes and splitting heads, patrons ringed In lethargy of leaden wings, deafened by the roaring chills And still-life flushes, weakened in their clumsy trusses, Trodden on through breached defences, sore diseased And barely breathing; now I can’t decline a cough […]...
- My Heart ran so to thee My Heart ran so to thee It would not wait for me And I affronted grew And drew away For whatsoe’er my pace He first achieve they Face How general a Grace Allotted two Not in malignity Mentioned I this to thee Had he obliquity Soonest to share But for the Greed of him Boasting […]...
- 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...
- 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...
- Betrayal If a man says half himself in the light, adroit Way a tune shakes into equilibrium, Or approximates to a note that never comes: Says half himself in the way two pencil-lines Flow to each other and softly separate, In the resolute way plane lifts and leaps from plane: Who knows what intimacies our eyes […]...
- I send you a decrepit flower I send you a decrepit flower That nature sent to me At parting she was going south And I designed to stay Her motive for the souvenir If sentiment for me Or circumstances prudential Withheld invincibly...
- 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 […]...
- 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!...
- We miss a Kinsman more We miss a Kinsman more When warranted to see Than when withheld of Oceans From possibility A Furlong than a League Inflicts a pricklier pain, Till We, who smiled at Pyrenees Of Parishes, complain....
- 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...
- I noticed People disappeared I noticed People disappeared When but a little child Supposed they visited remote Or settled Regions wild But did because they died A Fact withheld the little child...
- Love can do all but raise the Dead Love can do all but raise the Dead I doubt if even that From such a giant were withheld Were flesh equivalent But love is tired and must sleep, And hungry and must graze And so abets the shining Fleet Till it is out of gaze....
- The Beautiful Sun Beautiful Sun! with thy golden rays, To God, the wise Creator, be all praise; For thou nourisheth all the creation, Wherever there is found to be animation. Without thy heat we could not live, Then praise to God we ought to give; For thou makest the fruits and provisions to grow, To nourish all creatures […]...
- 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 […]...
- 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 […]...
- The Poet Words flow onto paper like rain, forming giant rivers Of unseen lands. The very force guides us along a journey That holds of great adventure. We are the explorers of the literary world. We must find the courage to write what Others are unable to, with the greatest Of passion. A poet dreams. and then […]...
- The fascinating chill that music leaves The fascinating chill that music leaves Is Earth’s corroboration Of Ecstasy’s impediment ‘Tis Rapture’s germination In timid and tumultuous soil A fine estranging creature To something upper wooing us But not to our Creator...
- A Door just opened on a street A Door just opened on a street I lost was passing by An instant’s Width of Warmth disclosed And Wealth and Company. The Door as instant shut And I I lost was passing by Lost doubly but by contrast most Informing misery...
- Through those old Grounds of memory Through those old Grounds of memory, The sauntering alone Is a divine intemperance A prudent man would shun. Of liquors that are vended ‘Tis easy to beware But statutes do not meddle With the internal bar. Pernicious as the sunset Permitting to pursue But impotent to gather, The tranquil perfidy Alloys our firmer moments With […]...
- 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...
- PHOEBUS AND HERMES DELOS’ stately ruler, and Maia’s son, the adroit one, Warmly were striving, for both sought the great prize to obtain. Hermes the lyre demanded, the lyre was claim’d by Apollo, Yet were the hearts of the foes fruitlessly nourish’d by hope. For on a sudden Ares burst in, with fury decisive, Dashing in twain the […]...
- Of Death I try to think like this Of Death I try to think like this The Well in which they lay us Is but the Likeness of the Brook That menaced not to slay us, But to invite by that Dismay Which is the Zest of sweetness To the same Flower Hesperian, Decoying but to greet us I do remember when a […]...
- In lands I never saw they say 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 and which am I Upon an August day?...
- Two butterflies went out at Noon Two butterflies went out at Noon And waltzed upon a Farm Then stepped straight through the Firmament And rested, on a Beam And then together bore away Upon a shining Sea Though never yet, in any Port Their coming, mentioned be If spoken by the distant Bird If met in Ether Sea By Frigate, or […]...
- God made a little Gentian 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 Summer hid her Forehead And Mockery was still The Frosts were her condition The Tyrian would not come Until the North […]...
- Sweet Mountains Ye tell Me no lie Sweet Mountains Ye tell Me no lie Never deny Me Never fly Those same unvarying Eyes Turn on Me when I fail or feign, Or take the Royal names in vain Their far slow Violet Gaze My Strong Madonnas Cherish still The Wayward Nun beneath the Hill Whose service is to You Her latest Worship […]...
- The Argument Of His Book I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness. I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by […]...
- Do You Hear The Angel Speaking? Do you hear the angel speaking? Do you hear her heavenly voice? Do you hear the song she’s singing? Will you help her to rejoice? Do you hear her when you’re weary And find it hard to cope? Do you hear her inspiration and Her messages of hope? Do you hear her voice of wisdom… […]...
- Eden is that old-fashioned House Eden is that old-fashioned House We dwell in every day Without suspecting our abode Until we drive away. How fair on looking back, the Day We sauntered from the Door Unconscious our returning, But discover it no more....
- The way Hope builds his House The way Hope builds his House It is not with a sill Nor Rafter has that Edifice But only Pinnacle Abode in as supreme This superficies As if it were of Ledges smit Or mortised with the Laws...
Ode »