Nature LXXIII: I ’LL tell you how the sun rose, par Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

Nature LXXIII: I ’LL tell you how the sun rose

Part Two: Nature

LXXIII

I ’LL tell you how the sun rose,—

A ribbon at a time.

The steeples swam in amethyst,

The news like squirrels ran.

The hills untied their bonnets,

The bobolinks begun.

Then I said softly to myself,

“That must have been the sun!”

But how he set, I know not.

There seemed a purple stile

Which little yellow boys and girls

Were climbing all the while

Till when they reached the other side,

A dominie in gray

Put gently up the evening bars,

And led the flock away.

#AmericanWriters

Préféré par...

Autres oeuvres par Emily Dickinson...

How the Waters Closed Above Him

923 How the Waters closed above Him We shall never know— How He stretched His Anguish to… That—is covered too—

Her Breast Is Fit for Pearls

84 Her breast is fit for pearls, But I was not a “Diver”— Her brow is fit for thrones But I have not a crest.

Ourselves Were Wed One Summer dear

631 Ourselves were wed one summer—dear… Your Vision—was in June— And when Your little Lifetime fai… I wearied—too—of mine—

I’M the Little

176 I’m the little “Heart’s Ease”! I don’t care for pouting skies! If the Butterfly delay Can I, therefore, stay away?

Only a Shrine, But Mine

918 Only a Shrine, but Mine— I made the Taper shine— Madonna dim, to whom all Feet may… Regard a Nun—

This Dust, and Its Feature

936 This Dust, and its Feature— Accredited—Today—Will in a s… Cease to identify— This Mind, and its measure—

Perhaps You Think Me Stooping

833 Perhaps you think me stooping I’m not ashamed of that Christ—stooped until He touched t… Do those at Sacrament

’Tis Customary as We Part

440 ’Tis customary as we part A trinket—to confer— It helps to stimulate the faith When Lovers be afar—

She Bore It Till the Simple Veins

144 She bore it till the simple veins Traced azure on her hand— Til pleading, round her quiet eyes The purple Crayons stand.

Time XL. I Never lost as much but twice (49)

XL I NEVER lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod; Twice have I stood a beggar Before the door of God!

After a Hundred Years

After a hundred years Nobody knows the place,— Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged,

Experience Is the Angled Road

910 Experience is the Angled Road Preferred against the Mind By—Paradox—the Mind itself— Presuming it to lead

By Chivalries as Tiny

55 By Chivalries as tiny, A Blossom, or a Book, The seeds of smiles are planted— Which blossom in the dark.

Besides the Autumn Poets Sing

131 Besides the Autumn poets sing A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of the Haze—

Nature, the Gentlest Mother,

Nature, the gentlest mother, Impatient of no child, The feeblest or the waywardest, Her admonition mild In forest and the hill

Emily Dickinson