When Roses Cease to Bloom, Sir, by Emily Dickinson

When Roses Cease to Bloom, Sir

When Roses cease to bloom, Sir,

And Violets are done—

When Bumblebees in solemn flight

Have passed beyond the Sun—

The hand that paused to gather

Upon this Summer’s day

Will idle lie—in Auburn—

Then take my flowers—pray!

722 Sweet Mountains—Ye tell me no lie… Never deny Me—Never fly— Those same unvarying Eyes Turn on Me—when I fail—or feign,

I dreaded that first robin so, But he is mastered now, And I’m accustomed to him grown,— He hurts a little, though. I thought if I could only live

844 Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide,

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

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

763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—

I saw the wind within her I knew it blew for me '— But she must buy my shelter I asked Humility

These Fevered Days—to take them t… Where Waters cool around the moss… And shade is all that devastates t… Seems it sometimes this would be a…

569 I reckon—when I count at all— First—Poets—Then the Sun— Then Summer—Then the Heaven of G… And then—the List is done—

486 I was the slightest in the House— I took the smallest Room— At night, my little Lamp, and Boo… And one Geranium—

54 If I should die, And you should live— And time should gurgle on— And morn should beam—

547 I’ve seen a Dying Eye Run round and round a Room— In search of Something—as it seem… Then Cloudier become—

787 Such is the Force of Happiness— The Least—can lift a Ton Assisted by its stimulus— Who Misery—sustain—

LX A SHADY friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind.

I counted till they danced so Their slippers leaped the town, And then I took a pencil To note the rebels down. And then they grew so jolly