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Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

May-Flower

Pink, small, and punctual,
Aromatic, low,
Covert in April,
Candid in May,
 
Dear to the moss,
Known by the knoll,
Next to the robin
In every human soul.
 
Bold little beauty,
Bedecked with thee,
Nature forswears
Antiquity.

#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #XIXCentury

Other works by Emily Dickinson...
The Difference Between Despair

305 The difference between Despair And Fear—is like the One Between the instant of a Wreck And when the Wreck has been—
The Grass So Little Has to Do

The Grass so little has to do— A Sphere of simple Green— With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain— And stir all day to pretty Tunes
My Reward for Being, Was This

343 My Reward for Being, was This. My premium—My Bliss— An Admiralty, less— A Sceptre—penniless—
Forever—it composed of Nows—

624 Forever—it composed of Nows— ’Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home—
 1
Is it dead—Find it—

417 Is it dead—Find it— Out of sound—Out of sight— “Happy”? Which is wiser— You, or the Wind?
Love—is that later Thing than Death

924 Love—is that later Thing than Dea… More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself—
I Make His Crescent Fill Or Lack

909 I make His Crescent fill or lack— His Nature is at Full Or Quarter—as I signify— His Tides—do I control—
Life VII. Within my reach! (90)

VII WITHIN my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered through the village…
 3
Nature LXXIII: I ’LL tell you how the sun rose

LXXIII I ’LL tell you how the sun rose,— A ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, The news like squirrels ran.
 1
The Outer—from the Inner

451 The Outer—from the Inner Derives its Magnitude— ’Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according As is the Central Mood—
 1
A Wife—at daybreak I shall be—

461 A Wife—at daybreak I shall be— Sunrise—Hast thou a Flag for me? At Midnight, I am but a Maid, How short it takes to make a Brid…
He Fumbles at Your Spirit

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
 2
A Murmur in the Trees—to note—

416 A Murmur in the Trees—to note— Not loud enough—for Wind— A Star—not far enough to seek— Nor near enough—to find—
 2
You Constituted Time

765 You constituted Time— I deemed Eternity A Revelation of Yourself— ’Twas therefore Deity
 1
As Far From Pity, as Complaint

496 As far from pity, as complaint— As cool to speech—as stone— As numb to Revelation As if my Trade were Bone—



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