Much Madness Is Divinest Sense, por Emily Dickinson

Much Madness Is Divinest Sense

Much Madness is divinest Sense -

To a discerning Eye -

Much Sense– the starkest Madness –

’Tis the Majority

In this, as All, prevail -

Assent– and you are sane –

Demur - you’re straightaway dangerous -

And handled with a Chain -

There’s been a death in the opposi… As lately as to-day. I know it by the numb look Such houses have alway. The neighbors rustle in and out,

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

LXXXVI A LADY red upon the hill Her annual secret keeps; A lady white within the field In placid lily sleeps!

I never saw a moor; I never saw the sea, Yet know I how the heather looks And what a billow be. I never spoke with God,

145 This heart that broke so long— These feet that never flagged— This faith that watched for star i… Give gently to the dead—

A Word dropped careless on a Page May stimulate an eye When folded in perpetual seam The Wrinkled Maker lie Infection in the sentence breeds

881 I’ve none to tell me to but Thee So when Thou failest, nobody. It was a little tie— It just held Two, nor those it he…

Not with a club, the Heart is bro… Nor with a stone; A whip, so small you could not see… I’ve known To lash the magic creature

898 How happy I was if I could forget To remember how sad I am Would be an easy adversity But the recollecting of Bloom

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

981 As Sleigh Bells seem in summer Or Bees, at Christmas show— So fairy—so fictitious The individuals do

566 A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand—

273 He put the Belt around my life I heard the Buckle snap— And turned away, imperial, My Lifetime folding up—

166 I met a King this afternoon! He had not on a Crown indeed, A little Palmleaf Hat was all, And he was barefoot, I’m afraid!

485 To make One’s Toilette—after Dea… Has made the Toilette cool Of only Taste we cared to please Is difficult, and still—