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Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

The Heaven Vests for Each

694
 
The Heaven vests for Each
In that small Deity
It craved the grace to worship
Some bashful Summer’s Day—
 
Half shrinking from the Glory
It importuned to see
Till these faint Tabernacles drop
In full Eternity—
 
How imminent the Venture—
As one should sue a Star—
For His mean sake to leave the Row
And entertain Despair—
 
A Clemency so common—
We almost cease to fear—
Enabling the minutest—
And furthest—to adore—

#AmericanWriters

Autres oeuvres par Emily Dickinson...
Life LXIV: He preached upon “breadth” (1207)

HE preached upon “breadth” till i… The broad are too broad to define: And of “truth” until it proclaimed… The truth never flaunted a sign. Simplicity fled from his counterfe…
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
“I want”—it pleaded—All its life—

731 “I want”—it pleaded—All its life— I want—was chief it said When Skill entreated it—the last— And when so newly dead—
 1
One Life of So Much Consequence!

270 One Life of so much Consequence! Yet I—for it—would pay— My Soul’s entire income— In ceaseless—salary—
 1
These Tested Our Horizon

886 These tested Our Horizon— Then disappeared As Birds before achieving A Latitude.
It Feels a Shame to Be Alive

444 It feels a shame to be Alive— When Men so brave—are dead— One envies the Distinguished Dust… Permitted—such a Head—
This Is the Land the Sunset Washes,

This is the land the sunset washes… These are the banks of the Yellow… Where it rose, or whither it rushe… These are the western mystery! Night after night her purple traff…
This—is the land—the Sunset washes—

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How Fortunate the Grave

897 How fortunate the Grave— All Prizes to obtain— Successful certain, if at last, First Suitor not in vain.
613 They shut me up in Prose —

They shut me up in Prose— As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet— Because they liked me “still”— Still! Could themself have peeped…
 3
Of so divine a Loss

Of so divine a Loss We enter but the Gain, Indemnity for Loneliness That such a Bliss has been.
A Doubt If It Be Us

859 A doubt if it be Us Assists the staggering Mind In an extremer Anguish Until it footing find.
 1
Finding Is the First Act

870 Finding is the first Act The second, loss, Third, Expedition for The “Golden Fleece”
I’m ceded—I’ve stopped being Theirs—

508 I’m ceded—I’ve stopped being Thei… The name They dropped upon my fac… With water, in the country church Is finished using, now,
 1
She Dwelleth in the Ground

671 She dwelleth in the Ground— Where Daffodils—abide— Her Maker—Her Metropolis— The Universe—Her Maid—



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