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Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

The Truth—is Stirless

780
 
The Truth—is stirless—
Other force—may be presumed to move—
This—then—is best for confidence—
When oldest Cedars swerve—
 
And Oaks untwist their fists—
And Mountains—feeble—lean—
How excellent a Body, that
Stands without a Bone—
 
How vigorous a Force
That holds without a Prop—
Truth stays Herself—and every man
That trusts Her—boldly up—

#AmericanWriters

Autres oeuvres par Emily Dickinson...
Tell All the Truth

Tell all the truth but tell it sla… Success in circuit lies, Too bright for our infirm delight The truth’s superb surprise; As lightning to the children eased
 1
Sweet, to Have Had Them Lost

901 Sweet, to have had them lost For news that they be saved— The nearer they departed Us The nearer they, restored,
He was weak, and I was strong—then—

190 He was weak, and I was strong—the… So He let me lead him in— I was weak, and He was strong the… So I let him lead me—Home.
 1
I Have a Bird in Spring

5 I have a Bird in spring Which for myself doth sing— The spring decoys. And as the summer nears—
Her Final Summer Was It,

Her final summer was it, And yet we guessed it not; If tenderer industriousness Pervaded her, we thought A further force of life
 1
The Moon Was But a Chin of Gold

737 The Moon was but a Chin of Gold A Night or two ago— And now she turns Her perfect Fac… Upon the World below—
I Taste a Liquor Never Brewed

I taste a liquor never brewed, From tankards scooped in pearl; Not all the vats upon the Rhine Yield such an alcohol! Inebriate of air am I,
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—
Unit, Like Death, for Whom?

408 Unit, like Death, for Whom? True, like the Tomb, Who tells no secret Told to Him—
 1
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—
341 After great pain a formal feeling comes

After great pain a formal feeling… The nerves sit ceremonious like to… The stiff Heart questions—was it… And yesterday—or centuries before? The feet, mechanical, go round
 1
 3
Prayer Is the Little Implement

437 Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence—is denied them. They fling their Speech
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—
We Play at Paste,

We play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool. The shapes, though, were similar,
When We Stand on the Tops of Things

242 When we stand on the tops of Thin… And like the Trees, look down— The smoke all cleared away from it… And Mirrors on the scene—



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