A Long, Long Sleep, a Famous Sleep, di Emily Dickinson

A Long, Long Sleep, a Famous Sleep

A long, long sleep, a famous sleep

That makes no show for dawn

By strech of limb or stir of lid,—

An independent one.

Was ever idleness like this?

Within a hut of stone

To bask the centuries away

Nor once look up for noon?

936 This Dust, and its Feature— Accredited—Today—Will in a s… Cease to identify— This Mind, and its measure—

159 A little bread—a crust—a crumb— A little trust—a demijohn— Can keep the soul alive— Not portly, mind! but breathing—wa…

397 When Diamonds are a Legend, And Diadems—a Tale— I Brooch and Earrings for Myself… Do sow, and Raise for sale—

285 The Robin’s my Criterion for Tun… Because I grow—where Robins do— But, were I Cuckoo born— I’d swear by him—

929 How far is it to Heaven? As far as Death this way— Of River or of Ridge beyond Was no discovery.

LX A SHADY friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind.

156 You love me—you are sure— I shall not fear mistake— I shall not cheated wake— Some grinning morn—

539 The Province of the Saved Should be the Art—To save— Through Skill obtained in Themsel… The Science of the Grave

281 ’Tis so appalling—it exhilarates— So over Horror, it half Captivate… The Soul stares after it, secure— A Sepulchre, fears frost, no more…

XXII I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity.

463 I live with Him — I see His face… I go no more away For Visitor — or Sundown — Death's single privacy

124 In lands I never saw—they say Immortal Alps look down— Whose Bonnets touch the firmament… Whose Sandals touch the town—

414 ’Twas like a Maelstrom, with a no… That nearer, every Day, Kept narrowing its boiling Wheel Until the Agony

989 Gratitude—is not the mention Of a Tenderness, But its still appreciation Out of Plumb of Speech.

831 Dying! To be afraid of thee One must to thine Artillery Have left exposed a Friend— Than thine old Arrow is a Shot