Home ⇒ 📌Emily Dickinson ⇒ What shall I do when the Summer troubles
What shall I do when the Summer troubles
What shall I do when the Summer troubles
What, when the Rose is ripe
What when the Eggs fly off in Music
From the Maple Keep?
What shall I do when the Skies a’chirrup
Drop a Tune on me
When the Bee hangs all Noon in the Buttercup
What will become of me?
Oh, when the Squirrel fills His Pockets
And the Berries stare
How can I bear their jocund Faces
Thou from Here, so far?
‘Twouldn’t afflict a Robin
All His Goods have Wings
I do not fly, so wherefore
My Perennial Things?
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- Twice had Summer her fair Verdure Twice had Summer her fair Verdure Proffered to the Plain Twice a Winter’s silver Fracture On the Rivers been Two full Autumns for the Squirrel Bounteous prepared Nature, Had’st thou not a Berry For thy wandering Bird?...
- Would you like summer? Taste of ours Would you like summer? Taste of ours. Spices? Buy here! Ill! We have berries, for the parching! Weary! Furloughs of down! Perplexed! Estates of violet trouble ne’er looked on! Captive! We bring reprieve of roses! Fainting! Flasks of air! Even for Death, a fairy medicine. But, which is it, sir?...
- The Troubles of Matthew Mahoney In a little town in Devonshire, in the mellow September moonlight, A gentleman passing along a street saw a pitiful sight, A man bending over the form of a woman on the pavement. He was uttering plaintive words and seemingly discontent. “What’s the matter with the woman?” asked the gentleman, As the poor, fallen woman […]...
- Carbonara eyes Nicky said I couldn’t write, she’s got a charming Sense of social etiquette – given she’s a bitch (the canine sort, can’t spell for shit or even write A word) but then she has the most expressive eyes. So what she said was no surprise, she’d heard My lamentations, licked my hands, rested forepaws On […]...
- There came a Day at Summer's full There came a Day at Summer’s full, Entirely for me I thought that such were for the Saints, Where Resurrections be The Sun, as common, went abroad, The flowers, accustomed, blew, As if no soul the solstice passed That maketh all things new The time was scarce profaned, by speech The symbol of a word […]...
- The Barberry Bush The bush that has most briers and bitter fruit, Wait till the frost has turned its green leaves red, Its sweetened berries will thy palate suit, And thou may’st find e’en there a homely bread. Upon the hills of Salem scattered wide, Their yellow blossoms gain the eye in Spring; And straggling e’en upon the […]...
- Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? (Sonnet 18) Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimmed; And every fair from fair sometime declines, […]...
- Exhortation: Summer 1919 Through the pregnant universe rumbles life’s terrific thunder, And Earth’s bowels quake with terror; strange and terrible storms break, Lightning-torches flame the heavens, kindling souls of men, thereunder: Africa! long ages sleeping, O my motherland, awake! In the East the clouds glow crimson with the new dawn that is breaking, And its golden glory fills […]...
- A Night-Rain in Summer Open the window, and let the air Freshly blow upon face and hair, And fill the room, as it fills the night, With the breath of the rain’s sweet might. Hark! the burthen, swift and prone! And how the odorous limes are blown! Stormy Love’s abroad, and keeps Hopeful coil for gentle sleeps. Not a […]...
- Sonnets XVIII: Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm’d; And every fair from fair sometime declines, […]...
- Sonnet XVIII: Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm’d; And every fair from fair sometime declines, […]...
- Tis the Last Rose of Summer Tis the last rose of summer Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone: No flower of her kindred, No rose-bud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, Or give sigh for sigh. I’ll not leave thee, thou lone one! To pine on the stem; Since the lovely are sleeping, Go, sleep […]...
- The Summer Day Who made the world? Who made the swan, and the black bear? Who made the grasshopper? This grasshopper, I mean The one who has flung herself out of the grass, The one who is eating sugar out of my hand, Who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down Who is […]...
- Dancing Tango Oh, Orlando! Remember the night we danced Quietly on the sands where music Was played? Your words were Wonderers, said quietly In the pockets of my ears. Oh, Esphahan! With your turquoise blue mosques And lovers hiding under the sands By the Zayandehrood and its haunting Blue skies. Still the words did Wonders when they […]...
- Fable The mountain and the squirrel Had a quarrel, And the former called the latter, “little prig”: Bun replied, You are doubtless very big, But all sorts of things and weather Must be taken in together To make up a year, And a sphere. And I think it no disgrace To occupy my place. If I’m […]...
- To Summer O thou who passest thro’ our valleys in Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat That flames from their large nostrils! thou, O Summer, Oft pitched’st here thy goldent tent, and oft Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair. Beneath our thickest shades we […]...
- Besides the Autumn poets sing Besides the Autumn poets sing A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of the Haze A few incisive Mornings A few Ascetic Eves Gone Mr. Bryant’s “Golden Rod” And Mr. Thomson’s “sheaves.” Still, is the bustle in the Brook Sealed are the spicy valves Mesmeric fingers softly touch […]...
- My Mother On An Evening In Late Summer 1 When the moon appears And a few wind-stricken barns stand out In the low-domed hills And shine with a light That is veiled and dust-filled And that floats upon the fields, My mother, with her hair in a bun, Her face in shadow, and the smoke From their cigarette coiling close To the faint […]...
- I Remember Galileo I remember Galileo describing the mind As a piece of paper blown around by the wind, And I loved the sight of it sticking to a tree, Or jumping into the backseat of a car, And for years I watched paper leap through my cities; But yesterday I saw the mind was a squirrel caught […]...
- UPON HIMSELF Thou shalt not all die; for while Love’s fire shines Upon his altar, men shall read thy lines; And learn’d musicians shall, to honour Herrick’s Fame, and his name, both set and sing his lyrics. To his book’s end this last line he’d have placed: Jocund his Muse was, but his Life was chaste....
- 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...
- The Tree of Scarlet Berries The rain gullies the garden paths And tinkles on the broad sides of grass blades. A tree, at the end of my arm, is hazy with mist. Even so, I can see that it has red berries, A scarlet fruit, Filmed over with moisture. It seems as though the rain, Dripping from it, Should be […]...
- Munition Maker I am the Cannon King, behold! I perish on a throne of gold. With forest far and turret high, Renowned and rajah-rich am I. My father was, and his before, With wealth we owe to war on war; But let no potentate be proud. . . There are no pockets in a shroud. By nature […]...
- 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...
- Summer we all have seen Summer we all have seen A few of us believed A few the more aspiring Unquestionably loved But Summer does not care She goes her spacious way As eligible as the moon To our Temerity The Doom to be adored The Affluence conferred Unknown as to an Ecstasy The Embryo endowed...
- How know it from a Summer's Day? 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 Admonition And sunder as they came...
- So much Summer 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 stow...
- 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 […]...
- A something in a summer's Day A something in a summer’s Day As slow her flambeaux burn away Which solemnizes me. A something in a summer’s noon A depth an Azure a perfume Transcending ecstasy. And still within a summer’s night A something so transporting bright I clap my hands to see Then veil my too inspecting face Lets such a […]...
- 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 shawl That wraps the everlasting hill. The eye begins its avarice A meditation chastens speech Some Dyer of a distant […]...
- As Summer into Autumn slips As Summer into Autumn slips And yet we sooner say “The Summer” than “the Autumn,” lest We turn the sun away, And almost count it an Affront The presence to concede Of one however lovely, not The one that we have loved So we evade the charge of Years On one attempting shy The Circumvention […]...
- As Sleigh Bells seem in summer As Sleigh Bells seem in summer Or Bees, at Christmas show So fairy so fictitious The individuals do Repealed from observation A Party that we knew More distant in an instant Than Dawn in Timbuctoo....
- The One who could repeat the Summer day 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 Stain I mean When Orient have been outgrown And Occident become Unknown His Name remain...
- 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!...
- 'Twas later when the summer went ‘Twas later when the summer went Than when the Cricket came And yet we knew that gentle Clock Meant nought but Going Home ‘Twas sooner when the Cricket went Than when the Winter came Yet that pathetic Pendulum Keeps esoteric Time....
- Ourselves were wed one summer dear Ourselves were wed one summer dear Your Vision was in June And when Your little Lifetime failed, I wearied too of mine And overtaken in the Dark Where You had put me down By Some one carrying a Light I too received the Sign. ‘Tis true Our Futures different lay Your Cottage faced the sun […]...
- I know a place where Summer strives 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 lanes Her Heart misgives Her, for Her Vow And she pours soft Refrains Into the lap of Adamant And spices and […]...
- Summer laid her simple Hat Summer laid her simple Hat On its boundless Shelf Unobserved a Ribbon slipt, Snatch it for yourself. Summer laid her supple Glove In its sylvan Drawer Wheresoe’er, or was she The demand of Awe?...
- The last of Summer is Delight The last of Summer is Delight Deterred by Retrospect. ‘Tis Ecstasy’s revealed Review Enchantment’s Syndicate. To meet it nameless as it is Without celestial Mail Audacious as without a Knock To walk within the Veil....
- Her final Summer was it Her final Summer was it And yet We guessed it not If tenderer industriousness Pervaded Her, We thought A further force of life Developed from within When Death lit all the shortness up It made the hurry plain We wondered at our blindness When nothing was to see But Her Carrara Guide post At Our […]...