Search Results for: perspective

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XXII. I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity. Nor had I time to love; but since Some industry must be, The little toil of love, I thought, Was large enough for me. —Emily Dickinson […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XX. I taste a liquor never brewed, From tankards scooped in pearl; Not all the vats upon the Rhine Yield such an alcohol! Inebriate of air am I, And debauchee of dew, Reeling, through endless summer days, From inns of molten blue. When landlords turn the drunken bee Out […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XIX. THE MYSTERY OF PAIN. Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself, Its infinite realms contain Its past, enlightened to perceive New periods of pain. —Emily Dickinson From […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XVIII. THE BOOK OF MARTYRS. Read, sweet, how others strove, Till we are stouter; What they renounced, Till we are less afraid; How many times they bore The faithful witness, Till we are helped, As if a kingdom cared! Read then of faith That shone above the fagot; Clear […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XVII. DAWN. When night is almost done, And sunrise grows so near That we can touch the spaces, It ‘s time to smooth the hair And get the dimples ready, And wonder we could care For that old faded midnight That frightened but an hour. —Emily Dickinson From Poems […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XVI. To fight aloud is very brave, But gallanter, I know, Who charge within the bosom, The cavalry of woe. Who win, and nations do not see, Who fall, and none observe, Whose dying eyes no country Regards with patriot love. We trust, in plumed procession, For such the […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XV. THE LONELY HOUSE. I know some lonely houses off the road A robber ‘d like the look of, — Wooden barred, And windows hanging low, Inviting to A portico, Where two could creep: One hand the tools, The other peep To make sure all’s asleep. Old-fashioned eyes, Not […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XIV. THE SECRET. Some things that fly there be, — Birds, hours, the bumble-bee: Of these no elegy. Some things that stay there be, — Grief, hills, eternity: Nor this behooveth me. There are, that resting, rise. Can I expound the skies? How still the riddle lies! —Emily Dickinson […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XIII. EXCLUSION. The soul selects her own society, Then shuts the door; On her divine majority Obtrude no more. Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s pausing At her low gate; Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling Upon her mat. I’ve known her from an ample nation Choose one; Then close the […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XII. I asked no other thing, No other was denied. I offered Being for it; The mighty merchant smiled. Brazil? He twirled a button, Without a glance my way: “But, madam, is there nothing else That we can show to-day?” —Emily Dickinson From Poems by Emily Dickinson. Edited by […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems XI. Much madness is divinest sense To a discerning eye; Much sense the starkest madness. ‘T is the majority In this, as all, prevails. Assent, and you are sane; Demur, — you’re straightway dangerous, And handled with a chain. —Emily Dickinson From Poems by Emily Dickinson. Edited by Mabel […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems X. IN A LIBRARY. A precious, mouldering pleasure ‘t is To meet an antique book, In just the dress his century wore; A privilege, I think, His venerable hand to take, And warming in our own, A passage back, or two, to make To times when he was young. […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems IX. The heart asks pleasure first, And then, excuse from pain; And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering; And then, to go to sleep; And then, if it should be The will of its Inquisitor, The liberty to die. —Emily Dickinson From Poems by Emily Dickinson. Edited by […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems VIII. A wounded deer leaps highest, I’ve heard the hunter tell; ‘T is but the ecstasy of death, And then the brake is still. The smitten rock that gushes, The trampled steel that springs; A cheek is always redder Just where the hectic stings! Mirth is the mail of […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems VII. ALMOST! Within my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered through the village, Sauntered as soft away! So unsuspected violets Within the fields lie low, Too late for striving fingers That passed, an hour ago. —Emily Dickinson From Poems by Emily Dickinson. […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems VI. If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain; If I can ease one life the aching, Or cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin Unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain. —Emily Dickinson From Poems by Emily Dickinson. […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems V. Glee! The great storm is over! Four have recovered the land; Forty gone down together Into the boiling sand. Ring, for the scant salvation! Toll, for the bonnie souls, — Neighbor and friend and bridegroom, Spinning upon the shoals! How they will tell the shipwreck When winter shakes […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems IV. ROUGE GAGNE. ‘T is so much joy! ‘T is so much joy! If I should fail, what poverty! And yet, as poor as I Have ventured all upon a throw; Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so This side the victory! Life is but life, and death but death! Bliss […]

< Return to Emily Dickinson Poems III. ROUGE ET NOIR. Soul, wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost, indeed, But tens have won an all. Angels’ breathless ballot Lingers to record thee; Imps in eager caucus Raffle for my soul. —Emily Dickinson From Poems by Emily Dickinson. Edited by Mabel […]