A Weight With Needles on the Pounds, por Emily Dickinson

A Weight With Needles on the Pounds

264

A Weight with Needles on the pounds—

To push, and pierce, besides—

That if the Flesh resist the Heft—

The puncture—coolly tries—

That not a pore be overlooked

Of all this Compound Frame—

As manifold for Anguish—

As Species—be—for name—

180 As if some little Arctic flower Upon the polar hem— Went wandering down the Latitudes Until it puzzled came

LXVII Presentment is that long shadow on… Indicative that suns go down; The notice to the startled grass That darkness is about to pass.

620 It makes no difference abroad— The Seasons—fit—the same— The Mornings blossom into Noons— And split their Pods of Flame—

Her final summer was it, And yet we guessed it not; If tenderer industriousness Pervaded her, we thought A further force of life

A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting—sings! Whose galleries—are Sunrise— Whose Opera—the Springs— Whose Emerald Nest the Ages spin

There is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry. This traverse may the poorest take

To mend each tattered Faith There is a needle fair Though no appearance indicate ’Tis threaded in the Air And though it do not wear

682 ‘Twould ease—a Butterfly— Elate—a Bee— Thou’rt neither— Neither—thy capacity—

999 Superfluous were the Sun When Excellence be dead He were superfluous every Day For every Day be said

500 Within my Garden, rides a Bird Upon a single Wheel— Whose spokes a dizzy Music make As ’twere a travelling Mill—

506 He touched me, so I live to know That such a day, permitted so, I groped upon his breast— It was a boundless place to me

286 That after Horror — that ’twas us… That passed the mouldering Pier — Just as the Granite Crumb let go… Our Savior, by a Hair —

Judgment is justest When the Judged, His action laid away, Divested is of every Disk But his sincerity.

380 There is a flower that Bees prefe… And Butterflies—desire— To gain the Purple Democrat The Humming Bird—aspire—

The thought beneath so slight a fi… Is more distincly seen,— As laces just reveal the surge, Or mists the Apennine.