A Word dropped careless on a Page, by Emily Dickinson

A Word dropped careless on a Page

May stimulate an eye

When folded in perpetual seam

The Wrinkled Maker lie

Infection in the sentence breeds

We may inhale Despair

At distances of Centuries

From the Malaria -

Enjoyed this read? Treat us to a coffee!.
Your help allows us to exist.

Perhaps I asked too large— I take—no less than skies— For Earths, grow thick as Berries, in my native town— My Basked holds—just—Firmaments—

365 Dare you see a Soul at the White… Then crouch within the door— Red—is the Fire’s common tint— But when the vivid Ore

394 ’Twas Love’—not me’— Oh punish’—pray’— The Real one died for Thee’— Just Him’—not me’—

777 The Loneliness One dare not sound… And would as soon surmise As in its Grave go plumbing To ascertain the size—

The Beggar at the Door for Fame Were easily supplied But Bread is that Diviner thing Disclosed to be denied

74 A Lady red—amid the Hill Her annual secret keeps! A Lady white, within the Field In placid Lily sleeps!

508 I’m ceded—I’ve stopped being Thei… The name They dropped upon my fac… With water, in the country church Is finished using, now,

377 To lose one’s faith—surpass The loss of an Estate— Because Estates can be Replenished—faith cannot—

XLIX WE outgrow love like other things And put it in the drawer, Till it an antique fashion shows Like costumes grandsires wore.

LVIII PORTRAITS are to daily faces As an evening west To a fine, pedantic sunshine In a satin vest.

273 He put the Belt around my life I heard the Buckle snap— And turned away, imperial, My Lifetime folding up—

938 Fairer through Fading—as the Day Into the Darkness dips away— Half Her Complexion of the Sun— Hindering—Haunting—Perishing—

All men for Honor hardest work But are not known to earn - Paid after they have ceased to wor… In Infamy or Urn -

752 So the Eyes accost—and sunder In an Audience— Stamped—occasionally—forever— So may Countenance

704 672 No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken