This Is my Letter to the World,, di Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

This Is my Letter to the World,

This is my letter to the world,

That never wrote to me,-

The simple news that Nature told,

With tender majesty

Her message is committed

To hands I cannot see;

For love of her, sweet countrymen,

Judge tenderly of me!

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury

Ti è piaciuta questa lettura? Offriteci un caffè!.
Il tuo aiuto ci permette di esistere.

Piaciuto o affrontato da...

Altre opere di Emily Dickinson...

You’ll find—it when you try to die

610 You’ll find—it when you try to die… The Easier to let go— For recollecting such as went— You could not spare—you know.

Perhaps You Think Me Stooping

833 Perhaps you think me stooping I’m not ashamed of that Christ—stooped until He touched t… Do those at Sacrament

This World Is Not Conclusion

501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—

Life XXXIX. I meant to have but modest needs

XXXIX I MEANT to have but modest need… Such as content, and heaven; Within my income these could lie, And life and I keep even.

Renunciation

Renunciation—is a piercing Virtue… The letting go A Presence—for an Expectation— Not now— The putting out of Eyes—

Crumbling Is Not an Instant’s Act

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

Part Five XLIX: The duties of the Wind are few (1137)

Part Five: The Single Hound XLIX The duties of the Wind are few— To cast the ships, at Sea, Establish March, the Floods escor…

If Recollecting Were Forgetting

33 If recollecting were forgetting, Then I remember not. And if forgetting, recollecting, How near I had forgot.

There comes a warning like a spy

There comes a warning like a spy A shorter breath of Day A stealing that is not a stealth And Summers are away

At least—to pray—is left—is left

502 At least—to pray—is left—is left— Oh Jesus—in the Air— I know not which thy chamber is— I’m knocking—everywhere—

Her Sweet Weight on my Heart a Night

518 Her sweet Weight on my Heart a N… Had scarcely deigned to lie— When, stirring, for Belief’s deli… My Bride had slipped away—

Of Nearness to Her Sundered Things

607 Of nearness to her sundered Thing… The Soul has special times— When Dimness—looks the Oddity— Distinctness—easy—se ems—

The Savior Must Have Been a Docile Gentleman (1487)

The Savior must have been A docile Gentleman— To come so far so cold a Day For little Fellowmen— The Road to Bethlehem

There’s a Certain Slant of Light (258)

There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—

It Would Have Starved a Gnat

612 It would have starved a Gnat— To live so small as I— And yet I was a living Child— With Food’s necessity

Emily Dickinson