Best Things Dwell Out of Sight, por Emily Dickinson

Best Things Dwell Out of Sight

998

Best Things dwell out of Sight

The Pearl—the Just—Our Thought.

Most shun the Public Air

Legitimate, and Rare—

The Capsule of the Wind

The Capsule of the Mind

Exhibit here, as doth a Burr—

Germ’s Germ be where?

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991 She sped as Petals of a Rose Offended by the Wind— A frail Aristocrat of Time Indemnity to find—

XXXIV NATURE is what we see, The Hill, the Afternoon— Squirrel, Eclipse, the Bumble-bee… Nay—Nature is Heaven.

877 Each Scar I’ll keep for Him Instead I’ll say of Gem In His long Absence worn A Costlier one

The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,— The sweeping up the heart,

The Snow that never drifts - The transient, fragrant snow That comes a single time a Year Is softly driving now - So thorough in the Tree

282 How noteless Men, and Pleiads, st… Until a sudden sky Reveals the fact that One is rapt Forever from the Eye—

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

The earth has many keys, Where melody is not Is the unknown peninsula. Beauty is nature’s fact. But witness for her land,

376 Of Course—I prayed— And did God Care? He cared as much as on the Air A Bird—had stamped her foot—

Part One: Life LII VICTORY comes late, And is held low to freezing lips Too rapt with frost

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

969 He who in Himself believes— Fraud cannot presume— Faith is Constancy’s Result— And assumes—from Home—

146 On such a night, or such a night, Would anybody care If such a little figure Slipped quiet from its chair—

921 If it had no pencil Would it try mine— Worn—now—and dull—sweet, Writing much to thee.

785 They have a little Odor—that to m… Is metre—nay—’tis melody— And spiciest at fading—indicate— A Habit—of a Laureate—