Poeticous Logo
en
English Español Français Italiano
Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

On my volcano grows the Grass

On my volcano grows the Grass
A meditative spot -
An acre for a Bird to choose
Would be the General thought -
 
How red the Fire rocks below -
How insecure the sod
Did I disclose
Would populate with awe my solitude.

#AmericanWriters

Other works by Emily Dickinson...
Bird

A bird came down the walk: He did not know I saw; He bit an angle-worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw. And then he drank a dew
Who Giants Know, With Lesser Men

796 Who Giants know, with lesser Men Are incomplete, and shy— For Greatness, that is ill at eas… In minor Company—
 1
There is no Silence in the Earth

There is no Silence in the Earth… As that endured Which uttered, would discourage N… And haunt the World.
 1
Give Little Anguish

310 Give little Anguish— Lives will fret— Give Avalanches— And they’ll slant—
Life XXX. We play at paste

XXX WE play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool.
 1
A poor—torn heart—a tattered heart—

78 A poor—torn heart—a tattered heart… That sat it down to rest— Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day Flowed silver to the West—
The Wind Took Up the Northern Things

The Wind took up the Northern Th… And piled them in the south - Then gave the East unto the West And opening his mouth The four Divisions of the Earth
 1
A lane of Yellow led the eye

A lane of Yellow led the eye Unto a Purple Wood Whose soft inhabitants to be Surpasses solitude If Bird the silence contradict
Life XLII. Surgeons must be very careful

XLII SURGEONS must be very careful When they take the knife! Underneath their fine incisions Stirs the culprit,—Life!
To Die

To die—takes just a little while— They say it doesn’t hurt— It’s only fainter—by degrees— And then—it’s out of sight— A darker Ribbon—for a Day—
As Watchers Hang Upon the East

121 As Watchers hang upon the East, As Beggars revel at a feast By savory Fancy spread— As brooks in deserts babble sweet
His voice decrepit was with Joy

His voice decrepit was with Joy - Her words did totter so How old the News of Love must be To make Lips elderly That purled a moment since with G…
No Romance Sold Unto

669 No Romance sold unto Could so enthrall a Man As the perusal of His Individual One—
Could—I do more—for Thee—

447 Could—I do more—for Thee— Wert Thou a Bumble Bee— Since for the Queen, have I— Nought but Bouquet?
 1
Life XLVII. Is Heaven a physician?

XLVII IS Heaven a physician? They say that He can heal; But medicine posthumous Is unavailable.



Top