Mine enemy is growing old, par Emily Dickinson

Mine enemy is growing old

MINE enemy is growing old,

I have at last revenge.

The palate of the hate departs;

If any would avenge,

Let him be quick, the viand flits,

It is a faded meat.

Anger as soon as fed is dead;

‘T is starving makes it fat.

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344 ’Twas the old—road—through pain— That unfrequented—One— With many a turn—and thorn— That stops—at Heaven—

682 ‘Twould ease—a Butterfly— Elate—a Bee— Thou’rt neither— Neither—thy capacity—

954 The Chemical conviction That Nought be lost Enable in Disaster My fractured Trust—

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

714 Rest at Night The Sun from shining, Nature—and some Men— Rest at Noon—some Men—

84 Her breast is fit for pearls, But I was not a “Diver”— Her brow is fit for thrones But I have not a crest.

XXIV A NARROW fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not? His notice sudden is.

A door just opened on a street— I, lost, was passing by— An instant’s width of warmth discl… And wealth, and company. The door as sudden shut, and I,

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

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

285 The Robin’s my Criterion for Tun… Because I grow—where Robins do— But, were I Cuckoo born— I’d swear by him—

197 Morning—is the place for Dew— Corn—is made at Noon— After dinner light—for flowers— Dukes—for Setting Sun!

717 The Beggar Lad—dies early— It’s Somewhat in the Cold— And Somewhat in the Trudging feet… And haply, in the World—

XLVII HEART, we will forget him! You and I, to—night! You may forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.

823 Not that We did, shall be the tes… When Act and Will are done But what Our Lord infers We woul… Had We diviner been—