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Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

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,
Or take the Royal names in vain—
Their far—slow—Violet Gaze—
 
My Strong Madonnas—Cherish still—
The Wayward Nun—beneath the hill—
Whose service—is to You—
Her latest Worship—When the Day
Fades from the Firmament away—
To lift her Brows on You—

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Other works by Emily Dickinson...
Life LXVII. a deed knocks first at thought,

LXVII A DEED knocks first at thought, And then it knocks at will. That is the manufacturing spot, And will at home and well.
 1
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants

The Mushroom is the Elf of Plant… At Evening, it is not At Morning, in a Truffled Hut It stop opon a Spot As if it tarried always
 2
The Lady Feeds Her Little Bird

941 The Lady feeds Her little Bird At rarer intervals— The little Bird would not dissent But meekly recognize
It Ceased to Hurt Me, Though So Slow

584 It ceased to hurt me, though so sl… I could not feel the Anguish go— But only knew by looking back— That something—had benumbed the T…
 1
Tho’ I Get Home How Late—how Late

207 Tho’ I get home how late—how late… So I get home—’twill compensate— Better will be the Ecstasy That they have done expecting me—
To hang our head—ostensibly—

105 To hang our head—ostensibly— And subsequent, to find That such was not the posture Of our immortal mind—
 1
A Mien to Move a Queen

283 A Mien to move a Queen— Half Child—Half Heroine— An Orleans in the Eye That puts its manner by
 1
I could die—to know

570 I could die—to know— ’Tis a trifling knowledge— News-Boys salute the Door— Carts—joggle by—
Love Reckons by Itself alone

826 Love reckons by itself—alone— “As large as I”—relate the Sun To One who never felt it blaze— Itself is all the like it has—
 1
Elysium Is as Far as To

Elysium is as far as to The very nearest Room If in that Room a Friend await Felicity or Doom— What fortitude the Soul contains
The Way I read a Letter’s—this

636 The Way I read a Letter’s—this— ’Tis first—I lock the Door— And push it with my fingers—next— For transport it be sure—
Least Rivers—docile to some sea

212 Least Rivers—docile to some sea. My Caspian—thee.
 1
Fame Is a Bee

1763 Fame is a bee. It has a song— It has a sting— Ah, too, it has a wing.
A science—so the Savants say

100 A science—so the Savants say, “Comparative Anatomy”— By which a single bone— Is made a secret to unfold
Bereaved of All, I Went Abroad

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



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