They Shut Me Up in Prose, par Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

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—

And seen my Brain—go round—

They might as wise have lodged a Bird

For Treason—in the Pound—

Himself has but to will

And easy as a Star

Abolish his Captivity—

And laugh—No more have I—

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury

Vous avez aimé cette lecture ? Offrez-nous un café !.
Votre aide nous permet d'exister.

Autres oeuvres par Emily Dickinson...

Bring Me the Sunset in a Cup

128 Bring me the sunset in a cup, Reckon the morning’s flagons up And say how many Dew, Tell me how far the morning leaps—

’Twas the old—road—through pain—

344 ’Twas the old—road—through pain— That unfrequented—One— With many a turn—and thorn— That stops—at Heaven—

We Grow Accustomed to the Dark

We grow accustomed to the Dark - When light is put away - As when the Neighbor holds the La… To witness her Goodbye - A Moment - We uncertain step

Had I Presumed to Hope

522 Had I presumed to hope— The loss had been to Me A Value—for the Greatness’ Sake— As Giants—gone away—

Unit, Like Death, for Whom?

408 Unit, like Death, for Whom? True, like the Tomb, Who tells no secret Told to Him—

There’s Something Quieter Than Sleep

45 There’s something quieter than sle… Within this inner room! It wears a sprig upon its breast— And will not tell its name.

So Has a Daisy Vanished

28 So has a Daisy vanished From the fields today— So tiptoed many a slipper To Paradise away—

Who were “the Father and the Son”

Who were “the Father and the Son” We pondered when a child, And what had they to do with us And when portentous told With inference appalling

Dying! Dying in the Night!

158 Dying! Dying in the night! Won’t somebody bring the light So I can see which way to go Into the everlasting snow?

The Outer—from the Inner

451 The Outer—from the Inner Derives its Magnitude— ’Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according As is the Central Mood—

Shall I take thee, the Poet said

Shall I take thee, the Poet said To the propounded word? Be stationed with the Candidates Till I have finer tried— The Poet searched Philology

I Like to See It Lap the Miles,

I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains,

Time XXVII. Because I could not stop for Death (712)

XXVII BECAUSE I could not stop for D… He kindly stopped for me— The Carriage held but just Oursel… And Immortality.

Four Trees—upon a solitary Acre—

742 Four Trees—upon a solitary Acre— Without Design Or Order, or Apparent Action— Maintain—

If I’m lost—now

256 If I’m lost—now That I was found— Shall still my transport be— That once—on me—those Jasper Gate…

Emily Dickinson

They Shut Me Up in Prose

Partager

Autres oeuvres par Emily Dickinson...