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Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

Dying! Dying in the Night!

158
 
Dying! Dying in the night!
Won’t somebody bring the light
So I can see which way to go
Into the everlasting snow?
 
And “Jesus”! Where is Jesus gone?
They said that Jesus—always came—
Perhaps he doesn’t know the House—
This way, Jesus, Let him pass!
 
Somebody run to the great gate
And see if Dollie’s coming! Wait!
I hear her feet upon the stair!
Death won’t hurt—now Dollie’s here!

#AmericanWriters

Altre opere di Emily Dickinson...
T Was Just This Time Last Year I Died.

‘T was just this time last year I… I know I heard the corn, When I was carried by the farms,— It had the tassels on. I thought how yellow it would look
754 my Life had stood—a Loaded Gun

My Life had stood—a Loaded Gun— In Corners—till a Day The Owner passed—identified— And carried Me away— And now We roam in Sovereign Woo…
Death and Life, by Gustav Klimt
Time XXVII. Because I could not stop for Death (712)

XXVII BECAUSE I could not stop for D… He kindly stopped for me— The Carriage held but just Oursel… And Immortality.
 1
 11
His Feet Are Shod With Gauze

916 His Feet are shod with Gauze— His Helmet, is of Gold, His Breast, a Single Onyx With Chrysophrase, inlaid.
 1
42 a Day! Help! Help! Another Day!

A Day! Help! Help! Another Day! Your prayers, oh Passer by! From such a common ball as this Might date a Victory! From marshallings as simple
 3
 4
Good Night, Because We Must

114 Good night, because we must, How intricate the dust! I would go, to know! Oh incognito!
It don't sound so terrible—quite—as it did

426 It don't sound so terrible—quite—a… I run it over—"Dead", Brain, "De… Put it in Latin—left of my school… Seems it don't shriek so—under rul…
The Heart Asks Pleasure First

The heart asks pleasure first And then, excuse from pain– And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering; And then, to go to sleep;
 1
To Venerate the Simple Days

57 To venerate the simple days Which lead the seasons by, Needs but to remember That from you or I,
Morning is the Place for Dew

197 Morning—is the place for Dew— Corn—is made at Noon— After dinner light—for flowers— Dukes—for Setting Sun!
 1
They Leave Us With the Infinite

350 They leave us with the Infinite. But He—is not a man— His fingers are the size of fists— His fists, the size of men—
 1
Pigmy seraphs—gone astray—

138 Pigmy seraphs—gone astray— Velvet people from Vevay— Balles from some lost summer day— Bees exclusive Coterie—
If Pain for Peace Prepares

63 If pain for peace prepares Lo, what “Augustan” years Our feet await! If springs from winter rise,
 1
She’s Happy, With a New Content

535 She’s happy, with a new Content— That feels to her—like Sacrament— She’s busy—with an altered Care— As just apprenticed to the Air—
Life VIII. a wounded deer leaps highest (165)

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.
 1



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