There Is No Frigate Like a Book, di Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

There Is No Frigate Like a Book

There is no frigate like a book

To take us lands away,

Nor any coursers like a page

Of prancing poetry.

This traverse may the poorest take

Without oppress of toll;

How frugal is the chariot

That bears a human soul!

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury

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Nature rarer uses yellow Than another hue; Saves she all of that for sunsets,… Prodigal of blue, Spending scarlet like a woman,

Mine—by the Right of the White Election!

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‘Twould ease—a Butterfly

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997 Crumbling is not an instant’s Act A fundamental pause Dilapidation’s processes Are organized Decays.

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After a hundred years Nobody knows the place,— Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged,

It Might Be Lonelier

405 It might be lonelier Without the Loneliness— I’m so accustomed to my Fate— Perhaps the Other—Peace—

It Was Too Late for Man

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Life XVIII. Read, sweet, how others strove (260)

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The show is not the show, But they that go. Menagerie to me My neighbor be. Fair play—

Their Height in Heaven Comforts Not

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I Noticed People Disappeared

I noticed People disappeared When but a little child - Supposed they visited remote Or settled Regions wild - But did because they died

Of Consciousness, Her Awful Mate

894 Of Consciousness, her awful Mate The Soul cannot be rid— As easy the secreting her Behind the Eyes of God.

This little Hound within the Heart

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I Measure Every Grief I Meet (561)

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Spring Is the Period

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Emily Dickinson