Nature and God—I neither knew, by Emily Dickinson

Nature and God—I neither knew

835

Nature and God—I neither knew

Yet Both so well knew me

They startled, like Executors

Of My identity.

Yet Neither told—that I could learn—

My Secret as secure

As Herschel’s private interest

Or Mercury’s affair—

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This was a Poet —It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings — And Attar so immense From the familiar species

1034 His Bill an Auger is, His Head, a Cap and Frill. He laboreth at every Tree A Worm, His utmost Goal.

782 There is an arid Pleasure— As different from Joy— As Frost is different from Dew— Like element—are they—

339 I tend my flowers for thee— Bright Absentee! My Fuchsia’s Coral Seams Rip—while the Sower—dreams—

357 God is a distant—stately Lover— Woos, as He states us—by His Son… Verily, a Vicarious Courtship— “Miles”, and “Priscilla”, were su…

I never hear the word 'escape’ Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude. I never hear of prisons broad

105 To hang our head—ostensibly— And subsequent, to find That such was not the posture Of our immortal mind—

I am afraid to own a Body - I am afraid to own a Soul - Profound– precarious Property – Possession, not optional - Double Estate - entailed at plea…

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

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

687 I’ll send the feather from my Hat… Who knows—but at the sight of that My Sovereign will relent? As trinket—worn by faded Child—

158 Dying! Dying in the night! Won’t somebody bring the light So I can see which way to go Into the everlasting snow?

To flee from memory Had we the Wings Many would fly Inured to slower things Birds with surprise

Exhilaration is the Breeze That lifts us from the Ground And leaves us in another place Whose statement is not found - Returns us not, but after time

903 I hide myself within my flower, That fading from your Vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me— Almost a loneliness.