To Hear an Oriole Sing, di Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

To Hear an Oriole Sing

526

To hear an Oriole sing

May be a common thing—

Or only a divine.

It is not of the Bird

Who sings the same, unheard,

As unto Crowd—

The Fashion of the Ear

Attireth that it hear

In Dun, or fair—

So whether it be Rune,

Or whether it be none

Is of within.

The “Tune is in the Tree—”

The Skeptic—showeth me—

“No Sir! In Thee!”

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury

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To Put This World Down, Like a Bundle

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We see—Comparatively—

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Smiling Back From Coronation

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The Test of Love—is Death—

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Kill your Balm—and its Odors bless you—

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All I May, If Small

819 All I may, if small, Do it not display Larger for the Totalness— ’Tis Economy

Sown in Dishonor

62 “Sown in dishonor”! Ah! Indeed! May this “dishonor” be? If I were half so fine myself

Dust Is the Only Secret

153 Dust is the only Secret— Death, the only One You cannot find out all about In his “native town.”

No Prisoner Be

720 No Prisoner be— Where Liberty— Himself—abide with Thee—

A First Mute Coming

702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—

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The Sun kept setting—setting—still

The Sun kept setting—setting—stil… No Hue of Afternoon— Upon the Village I perceived From House to House ’twas Noon— The Dusk kept dropping—dropping—s…

By homely gift and hindered Words

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I Years Had Been From Home,

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Emily Dickinson