Home ⇒ 📌Emily Dickinson ⇒ When they come back if Blossoms do
When they come back if Blossoms do
When they come back if Blossoms do
I always feel a doubt
If Blossoms can be born again
When once the Art is out
When they begin, if Robins may,
I always had a fear
I did not tell, it was their last Experiment
Last Year,
When it is May, if May return,
Had nobody a pang
Lest in a Face so beautiful
He might not look again?
If I am there One does not know
What Party One may be
Tomorrow, but if I am there
I take back all I say
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- Peach Blossoms WHAT cry of peach blossoms let loose on the air today I heard with my face thrown in the pink-white of it all? in the red whisper of it all? What man I heard saying: Christ, these are beautiful! And Christ and Christ was in his mouth, over these peach blossoms?...
- Alone, Looking for Blossoms Along the River The sorrow of riverside blossoms inexplicable, And nowhere to complain I’ve gone half crazy. I look up our southern neighbor. But my friend in wine Gone ten days drinking. I find only an empty bed. A thick frenzy of blossoms shrouding the riverside, I stroll, listing dangerously, in full fear of spring. Poems, wine even […]...
- Crabapple Blossoms SOMEBODY’S little girl-how easy to make a sob story over who she was once and who she is now. Somebody’s little girl-she played once under a crab-apple tree in June and the blossoms fell on the dark hair. It was somewhere on the Erie line and the town was Salamanca or Painted Post or Horse’s […]...
- THE SHOWER OF BLOSSOMS Love in a shower of blossoms came Down, and half drown’d me with the same; The blooms that fell were white and red; But with such sweets commingled, As whether (this) I cannot tell, My sight was pleased more, or my smell; But true it was, as I roll’d there, Without a thought of hurt […]...
- To A Blossoming Pear Tree Beautiful natural blossoms, Pure delicate body, You stand without trembling. Little mist of fallen starlight, Perfect, beyond my reach, How I envy you. For if you could only listen, I would tell you something, Something human. An old man Appeared to me once In the unendurable snow. He had a singe of white Beard on […]...
- The City of Perth Beautiful Ancient City of Perth, One of the fairest on the earth, With your stately mansions and scenery most fine, Which seems very beautiful in the summer time; And the beautiful silvery Tay, Rolling smoothly on its way, And glittering like silver in the sunshine – And the Railway Bridge across it is really sublime. […]...
- There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left I write the lips of the moon upon her shoulders. In a Temple of silvery farawayness I guard her to rest. For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the World. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I Cover her against any hurt. Using the pen of rivers and […]...
- TO BLOSSOMS Fair pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast? Your date is not so past, But you may stay yet here a-while, To blush and gently smile; And go at last. What, were ye born to be An hour or half’s delight; And so to bid good-night? ‘Twas pity Nature brought ye […]...
- 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 […]...
- Lines Draw a line. Write a line. There. Stay in line, hold the line, a glance Between the lines is fine but don’t Turn corners, cross, cut in, go over Or out, between two points of no Return’s a line of flight, between Two points of view’s a line of vision. But a line of thought […]...
- Finery In an elegant frock, trimm’d with beautiful lace, And hair nicely curl’d, hanging over her face, Young Fanny went out to the house of a friend, With a large little party the evening to spend. “Ah! how they will all be delighted, I guess, And stare with surprise at my handsome new dress!” Thus said […]...
- "Tomorrow" whose location “Tomorrow” whose location The Wise deceives Though its hallucination Is last that leaves Tomorrow thou Retriever Of every tare Of Alibi art thou Or ownest where?...
- We talked as Girls do We talked as Girls do Fond, and late We speculated fair, on every subject, but the Grave Of ours, none affair We handled Destinies, as cool As we Disposers be And God, a Quiet Party To our Authority But fondest, dwelt upon Ourself As we eventual be When Girls to Women, softly raised We occupy […]...
- Sonnet 56: Sweet love, renew thy force, be it not said Sweet love, renew thy force! Be it not said Thy edge should blunter be than appetite, Which but today by feeding is allayed, Tomorrow sharpened in his former might. So, love, be thou, although today thou fill Thy hungry eyes, even till they wink with fulness, Tomorrow see again, and do not kill The spirit […]...
- The Wicked Postman Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me, Mother dear? The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all Wet, and you don’t mind it. Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother To come home from school. What has happened […]...
- "I Love You Sweatheart" A man risked his life to write the words. A man hung upside down (an idiot friend Holding his legs?) with spray paint To write the words on a girder fifty feet above A highway. And his beloved, The next morning driving to work…? His words are not (meant to be) so unique. Does she […]...
- After the parties let’s all go to the party friends Where left over bottles and stale fag-ends Are proudly on offer from the last time round And our hosts believe by a ritual sound Fine spirits will flow and new cellophane wrappers Will tingle the fingers of eligible clappers Let’s all ignite at the party friends And burn […]...
- Bonnie Montrose Beautiful town of Montrose, I will now commence my lay, And I will write in praise of thee without dismay, And in spite of all your foes, I will venture to call thee Bonnie Montrose. Your beautiful Chain Bridge is magnificent to be seen, Spanning the river Esk, a beautiful tidal stream, Which abounds with […]...
- The Widow's Party “Where have you been this while away, Johnnie, Johnnie?” ‘Long with the rest on a picnic lay, Johnnie, my Johnnie, aha! They called us out of the barrack-yard To Gawd knows where from Gosport Hard, And you can’t refuse when you get the card, And the Widow gives the party. (Bugle: Ta rara ra-ra-rara!) “What […]...
- Glasgow Beautiful city of Glasgow, with your streets so neat and clean, Your stateley mansions, and beautiful Green! Likewise your beautiful bridges across the River Clyde, And on your bonnie banks I would like to reside. Chorus Then away to the west to the beautiful west! To the fair city of Glasgow that I like the […]...
- Montrose Beautiful town of Montrose, I will now commence my lay, And I will write in praise of thee without dismay, And in spite of all your foes, L will venture to call thee Bonnie Montrose. Your beautiful Chain Bridge is magnificent to be seen, Spanning the river Esk, a beautiful tidal stream, Which abounds with […]...
- Juliet How did the party go in Portman Square? I cannot tell you; Juliet was not there. And how did Lady Gaster’s party go? Juliet was next me and I do not know....
- Love ERE I lose myself in the vastness and drowse myself with the peace, While I gaze on the light and the beauty afar from the dim homes of men, May I still feel the heart-pang and pity, love-ties that I would not release; May the voices of sorrow appealing call me back to their succour […]...
- On Cheating The Fiddler “Then we will have tonight!” we said. “Tomorrow – may we not be dead?” The morrow touched our eyes, and found Us walking firm above the ground, Our pulses quick, our blood alight. Tomorrow’s gone – we’ll have tonight!...
- Farewell to Secretary Shu-yun at the Hsieh Tiao Villa in Hsuan-Chou Since yesterday had throw me and bolt, Today has hurt my heart even more. The autumn wildgeese have a long wing for escort As I face them from this villa, drinking my wine. The bones of great writers are your brushes, in the school of heaven, And I am Lesser Hsieh growing up by your […]...
- A Descriptive Poem on the Silvery Tay Beautiful silvery Tay, With your landscapes, so lovely and gay, Along each side of your waters, to Perth all the way; No other river in the world has got scenery more fine, Only I am told the beautiful Rhine, Near to Wormit Bay, it seems very fine, Where the Railway Bridge is towering above its […]...
- The Snow that never drifts The Snow that never drifts The transient, fragrant snow That comes a single time a Year Is softly driving now So thorough in the Tree At night beneath the star That it was February’s Foot Experience would swear Like Winter as a Face We stern and former knew Repaired of all but Loneliness By Nature’s […]...
- Roscoe Purkapile She loved me. Oh! how she loved me! I never had a chance to escape From the day she first saw me. But then after we were married I thought She might prove her mortality and let me out, Or she might divorce me. But few die, none resign. Then I ran away and was […]...
- Ophelia My locks are shorn for sorrow Of love which may not be; Tomorrow and tomorrow Are plotting cruelty. The winter wind tangles These ringlets half-grown, The sun sprays with spangles And rays like his own. Oh, quieter and colder Is the stream; he will wait; When my curls touch my shoulder He will comb them […]...
- Going to Him! Happy letter! Going to Him! Happy letter! Tell Him Tell Him the page I didn’t write Tell Him I only said the Syntax And left the Verb and the pronoun out Tell Him just how the fingers hurried Then how they waded slow slow And then you wished you had eyes in your pages So you could […]...
- This Evening Also more fully, Since snow fell even on this Sun-drifted, sun-drenched sea, Blossoms the ice in those baskets You carry into town. Sand You demand in return, For the last Rose back at home This evening also wants to be fed Out of the trickling hour....
- Beautiful Comrie Ye lovers of the picturesque, away, away! To beautiful Comrie and have a holiday; Aud bask in the sunahine and inhale the fragrant air Emanating from the woodlands and shrubberies there. The charming village of Comrie is most lovely to be seen, Especially in the summer season when the trees are green; And near by […]...
- 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 […]...
- Hanging Fire I am fourteen And my skin has betrayed me The boy I cannot live without Still sucks his tumb In secret How come my knees are Always so ashy What if I die Before the morning comes And momma’s in the bedroom With the door closed. I have to learn how to dance In time […]...
- Over The Alley Here in my office I sit and write Hour on hour, and day on day, With no one to speak to from morn till night, Though I have a neighbour just over the way. Across the alley that yawns between A maiden sits sewing the whole day long; A face more lovely is seldom seen […]...
- I, Too, Sing America I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh, And eat well, And grow strong. Tomorrow, I’ll be at the table When company comes. Nobody’ll dare Say to me, “Eat in the kitchen,” Then. Besides, They’ll see how beautiful I am […]...
- Listening to a Flute in Yellow Crane Pavillion I came here a wanderer Thinking of home, Remembering my far away Ch’ang-an. And then, from deep in Yellow Crane Pavillion, I heard a beautiful bamboo flute Play “Falling Plum Blossoms.” It was late spring in a city by the river....
- Beautiful Rothesay Beautiful Rothesay, your scenery is most grand, You cannot be surpassed in fair Scotland. Tis healthy for holiday makers, to go there, For the benefit of their health, by inhaling the pure air And to hear the innocent birds, on a fine Summer day, Carolling their sweet songs, so lively and gay, Therefore, holiday makers, […]...
- By The Sea Why does the sea moan evermore? Shut out from heaven it makes its moan, It frets against the boundary shore; All earth’s full rivers cannot fill The sea, that drinking thirsteth still. Sheer miracles of loveliness Lie hid in its unlooked-on bed: Anemones, salt, passionless, Blow flower-like; just enough alive To blow and multiply and […]...
- I reckon when I count it all I reckon when I count it all First Poets Then the Sun Then Summer Then the Heaven of God And then the List is done But, looking back the First so seems To Comprehend the Whole The Others look a needless Show So I write Poets All Their Summer lasts a Solid Year They can […]...
Aloof »