Too cold is this, por Emily Dickinson

Too cold is this

To warm with Sun -

Too stiff to bended be,

To joint this Agate were a work -

Outstaring Masonry -

How went the Agile Kernel out

Contusion of the Husk

Nor Rip, nor wrinkle indicate

But just an Asterisk.

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295 Unto like Story—Trouble has entic… How Kinsmen fell— Brothers and Sister—who preferred… And their young will

796 Who Giants know, with lesser Men Are incomplete, and shy— For Greatness, that is ill at eas… In minor Company—

13 Sleep is supposed to be By souls of sanity The shutting of the eye. Sleep is the station grand

448 This was a Poet—It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings— And Attar so immense

535 She’s happy, with a new Content— That feels to her—like Sacrament— She’s busy—with an altered Care— As just apprenticed to the Air—

549 That I did always love I bring thee Proof That till I loved I never lived—Enough—

942 Snow beneath whose chilly softness Some that never lay Make their first Repose this Wint… I admonish Thee

Safe in their Alabaster Chambers— Untouched by Morning— and untouched by noon— Sleep the meek members of the Res… Rafter of Satin and Roof of Ston…

There is another Loneliness That many die without - Not want of friend occasions it Or circumstances of Lot But nature, sometimes, sometimes t…

215 What is – “Paradise” – Who live there – Are they “Farmers” – Do they “hoe” –

643 I could suffice for Him, I knew— He—could suffice for Me— Yet Hesitating Fractions—Both Surveyed Infinity—

LX The grass so little has to do,— A sphere of simple green, With only butterflies to brood, And bees to entertain,

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…

687 I’ll send the feather from my Hat… Who knows—but at the sight of that My Sovereign will relent? As trinket—worn by faded Child—

841 A Moth the hue of this Haunts Candles in Brazil. Nature’s Experience would make Our Reddest Second pale.