Death Is Potential to That Man, di Emily Dickinson

Death Is Potential to That Man

548

Death is potential to that Man

Who dies—and to his friend—

Beyond that—unconspicuous

To Anyone but God—

Of these Two—God remembers

The longest—for the friend—

Is integral—and therefore

Itself dissolved—of God—

433 Knows how to forget! But could It teach it? Easiest of Arts, they say When one learn how

Epigram THIS is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,— The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty.

493 The World—stands—solemner—to me— Since I was wed—to Him— A modesty befits the soul That bears another’s—name—

114 Good night, because we must, How intricate the dust! I would go, to know! Oh incognito!

18 The Gentian weaves her fringes— The Maple’s loom is red— My departing blossoms Obviate parade.

How firm Eternity must look To crumbling men like me The only Adamant Estate In all Identity - How mighty to the insecure

These—saw Visions— Latch them softly— These—held Dimples— Smooth them slow— This—addressed departing accents—

He fumbles at your spirit As players at the keys Before they drop full music on; He stuns you by degrees, Prepares your brittle substance

623 It was too late for Man— But early, yet, for God— Creation—impotent to help— But Prayer—remained—Our Side—

LX The grass so little has to do,— A sphere of simple green, With only butterflies to brood, And bees to entertain,

950 The Sunset stopped on Cottages Where Sunset hence must be For treason not of His, but Life’… Gone Westerly, Today—

192 Poor little Heart! Did they forget thee? Then dinna care! Then dinna care! Proud little Heart!

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

When Memory is full Put on the perfect Lid - This Morning’s finest syllable Presumptuous Evening said -

LXV GOOD night! which put the candle… A jealous zephyr, not a doubt. Ah! friend, you little knew How long at that celestial wick