Safe in Their Alabaster Chambers,, par Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

Safe in Their Alabaster Chambers,

Safe in their alabaster chambers,

Untouched by morning and untouched by noon,

Sleep the meek members of the resurrection,

Rafter of satin, and roof of stone.

Light laughs the breeze in her castle of sunshine;

Babbles the bee in a stolid ear;

Pipe the sweet birds in ignorant cadences,—

Ah, what sagacity perished here!

Grand go the years in the crescent above them;

Worlds scoop their arcs, and firmaments row,

Diadems drop and Doges surrender,

Soundless as dots on a disk of snow.

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Autres oeuvres par Emily Dickinson...

Part Five XLIX: The duties of the Wind are few (1137)

Part Five: The Single Hound XLIX The duties of the Wind are few— To cast the ships, at Sea, Establish March, the Floods escor…

The Battlefield

They dropped like flakes, they dro… Like petals from a rose, When suddenly across the June A wind with fingers goes. They perished in the seamless gras…

Those Who Have Been in the Grave the Longest

922 Those who have been in the Grave… Those who begin Today— Equally perish from our Practise— Death is the other way—

Three times—we parted—Breath—and I—

598 Three times—we parted—Breath—and… Three times—He would not go— But strove to stir the lifeless F… The Waters—strove to stay.

I Met a King This Afternoon!

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!

It Was a Grave, Yet Bore No Stone

876 It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone Enclosed ’twas not of Rail A Consciousness its Acre, and It held a Human Soul.

Publication—is the Auction

Publication—is the Auction Of the Mind of Man— Poverty—be justifying For so foul a thing Possibly—but We—would rather

Sweet Mountains—Ye tell me no lie—

722 Sweet Mountains—Ye tell me no lie… Never deny Me—Never fly— Those same unvarying Eyes Turn on Me—when I fail—or feign,

They Dropped Like Flakes

They dropped like flakes, they dro… Like petals from a rose, When suddenly across the lune A wind with fingers goes. They perished in the seamless gras…

Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits,

685 Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—

I had the Glory—that will do—

349 I had the Glory—that will do— An Honor, Thought can turn her to When lesser Fames invite— With one long “Nay”—

Said Death to Passion

Said Death to Passion ‘Give of thine an Acre unto me.’ Said Passion, through contracting… ‘A Thousand Times Thee Nay.’ Bore Death from Passion

As If I Asked a Common Alms

323 As if I asked a common Alms, And in my wondering hand A Stranger pressed a Kingdom, And I, bewildered, stand—

The Dust Behind I Strove to Join

992 The Dust behind I strove to join Unto the Disk before— But Sequence ravelled out of Soun… Like Balls upon a Floor—

The Morning After Woe

364 The Morning after Woe— ’Tis frequently the Way— Surpasses all that rose before— For utter Jubilee—

Emily Dickinson