It Was Too Late for Man, di Emily Dickinson

It Was Too Late for Man

623

It was too late for Man—

But early, yet, for God—

Creation—impotent to help—

But Prayer—remained—Our Side—

How excellent the Heaven—

When Earth—cannot be had—

How hospitable—then—the face

Of our Old Neighbor—God—

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382 For Death—or rather For the Things 'twould buy— This—put away Life’s Opportunity—

The Mushroom is the Elf of Plant… At Evening, it is not At Morning, in a Truffled Hut It stop opon a Spot As if it tarried always

179 If I could bribe them by a Rose I’d bring them every flower that g… From Amherst to Cashmere! I would not stop for night, or sto…

195 For this—accepted Breath— Through it—compete with Death— The fellow cannot touch this Crow… By it—my title take—

714 Rest at Night The Sun from shining, Nature—and some Men— Rest at Noon—some Men—

This was a Poet —It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings — And Attar so immense From the familiar species

21 We lose—because we win— Gamblers—recollecting which Toss their dice again!

690 Victory comes late— And is held low to freezing lips— Too rapt with frost To take it—

I started Early– Took my Dog – And visited the Sea - The Mermaids in the Basement Came out to look at me - And Frigates - in the Upper Floo…

XXVIII I BRING an unaccustomed wine To lips long parching, next to min… And summon them to drink. Crackling with fever, they essay;

The Beggar at the Door for Fame Were easily supplied But Bread is that Diviner thing Disclosed to be denied

79 Going to Heaven! I don’t know when— Pray do not ask me how! Indeed I’m too astonished

784 Bereaved of all, I went abroad— No less bereaved was I Upon a New Peninsula— The Grave preceded me—

XIV SOME things that fly there be,— Birds, hours, the bumble-bee: Of these no elegy. Some things that stay there be,—

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