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Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

Where I Have Lost, I Softer Tread

104
 
Where I have lost, I softer tread—
I sow sweet flower from garden bed—
I pause above that vanished head
         And mourn.
 
Whom I have lost, I pious guard
From accent harsh, or ruthless word—
Feeling as if their pillow heard,
         Though stone!
 
When I have lost, you’ll know by this—
A Bonnet black—A dusk surplice—
A little tremor in my voice
         Like this!
 
Why, I have lost, the people know
Who dressed in flocks of purest snow
Went home a century ago
         Next Bliss!

#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #XIXCentury

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It don't sound so terrible—quite—as it did

426 It don't sound so terrible—quite—a… I run it over—"Dead", Brain, "De… Put it in Latin—left of my school… Seems it don't shriek so—under rul…
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.”
Who Occupies This House?

892 Who occupies this House? A Stranger I must judge Since No one know His Circumstan… ’Tis well the name and age
Twice Had Summer Her Fair Verdure

846 Twice had Summer her fair Verdure Proffered to the Plain— Twice a Winter’s silver Fracture On the Rivers been—
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.
 1
The Trees like Tassels—hit—and swung—

606 The Trees like Tassels—hit—and sw… There seemed to rise a Tune From Miniature Creatures Accompanying the Sun—
As the Starved Maelstrom Laps the Navies

872 As the Starved Maelstrom laps the… As the Vulture teased Forces the Broods in lonely Valle… As the Tiger eased
T Was Just This Time Last Year I Died.

‘T was just this time last year I… I know I heard the corn, When I was carried by the farms,— It had the tassels on. I thought how yellow it would look
Some Days retired from the rest

Some Days retired from the rest In soft distinction lie The Day that a Companion came Or was obliged to die
To know just how He suffered—would be dear—

622 To know just how He suffered—woul… To know if any Human eyes were ne… To whom He could entrust His wave… Until it settle broad—on Paradise…
Nature LXI. a little road not made man (647)

LXI A LITTLE road not made of man, Enabled of the eye, Accessible to thill of bee, Or cart of butterfly.
New Feet Within my Garden Go

99 New feet within my garden go— New fingers stir the sod— A Troubadour upon the Elm Betrays the solitude.
To Lose Thee

To lose thee, sweeter than to gain All other hearts I knew. Tis true the drought is destitute But, then, I had the dew! The Caspian has its realms of san…
 1
One Blessing Had I Than the Rest

756 One Blessing had I than the rest So larger to my Eyes That I stopped gauging—satisfied— For this enchanted size—
Unto my Books—so good to turn

604 Unto my Books—so good to turn— Far ends of tired Days— It half endears the Abstinence— And Pain—is missed—in Praise—



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