I Had Some Things That I Called Mine, by Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

I Had Some Things That I Called Mine

116

I had some things that I called mine—

And God, that he called his,

Till, recently a rival Claim

Disturbed these amities.

The property, my garden,

Which having sown with care,

He claims the pretty acre,

And sends a Bailiff there.

The station of the parties

Forbids publicity,

But Justice is sublimer

Than arms, or pedigree.

I’ll institute an “Action”—

I’ll vindicate the law—

Jove! Choose your counsel—

I retain “Shaw”!

#AmericanWriters

Other works by Emily Dickinson...

There Came a Day at Summer’s Full

322 There came a Day at Summer’s full… Entirely for me— I thought that such were for the… Where Resurrections—be—

Exhiliration—is within—

383 Exhiliration—is within— There can no Outer Wine So royally intoxicate As that diviner Brand

I Sometimes Drop It, for a Quick

708 I sometimes drop it, for a Quick— The Thought to be alive— Anonymous Delight to know— And Madder—to conceive—

A Shade Upon the Mind There Passes

882 A Shade upon the mind there passe… As when on Noon A Cloud the mighty Sun encloses Remembering

It’s Such a Little Thing to Weep

189 It’s such a little thing to weep— So short a thing to sigh— And yet—by Trades—the size of the… We men and women die!

Till Death’is Narrow Loving

907 Till Death’—is narrow Loving’— The scantest Heart extant Will hold you till your privilege Of Finiteness’—be spent’—

The Savior Must Have Been a Docile Gentleman (1487)

The Savior must have been A docile Gentleman— To come so far so cold a Day For little Fellowmen— The Road to Bethlehem

Delight Becomes Pictorial

Delight becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain. The mountaln at a given distance

Alter! When the Hills Do

729 Alter! When the Hills do— Falter! When the Sun Question if His Glory Be the Perfect One—

When the Astronomer Stops Seeking

851 When the Astronomer stops seeking For his Pleiad’s Face— When the lone British Lady Forsakes the Arctic Race

I Know Lives, I Could Miss

372 I know lives, I could miss Without a Misery— Others—whose instant’s wanting— Would be Eternity—

Impossibility, Like Wine

838 Impossibility, like Wine Exhilarates the Man Who tastes it; Possibility Is flavorless—Combine

Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits,

685 Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—

The Tint I Cannot Take—is Best

627 The Tint I cannot take—is best— The Color too remote That I could show it in Bazaar— A Guinea at a sight—

Air has no Residence, no Neighbor

Air has no Residence, no Neighbor… No Ear, no Door, No Apprehension of Another Oh, Happy Air! Ethereal Guest at e’en an Outcast…

Emily Dickinson

I Had Some Things That I Called Mine

Share

Other works by Emily Dickinson...