So glad we are—a Stranger’d deem, par Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

So glad we are—a Stranger’d deem

329

So glad we are—a Stranger’d deem

’Twas sorry, that we were—

For where the Holiday should be

There publishes a Tear—

Nor how Ourselves be justified—

Since Grief and Joy are done

So similar—An Optizan

Could not decide between—

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury

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7 The feet of people walking home With gayer sandals go— The Crocus—til she rises The Vassal of the snow—

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257 Delight is as the flight— Or in the Ratio of it, As the Schools would say— The Rainbow’s way—

One Life of So Much Consequence!

270 One Life of so much Consequence! Yet I—for it—would pay— My Soul’s entire income— In ceaseless—salary—

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857 Uncertain lease—develops lustre On Time Uncertain Grasp, appreciation Of Sum—

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296 One Year ago—jots what? God—spell the word! I—can’t— Was’t Grace? Not that— Was’t Glory? That—will do—

Afraid! of Whom Am I Afraid?

608 Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Not Death—for who is He? The Porter of my Father’s Lodge As much abasheth me!

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Life XXVI. the brain within its groove (556)

XXVI THE brain within its groove Runs evenly and true; But let a splinter swerve, ’T were easier for you

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Emily Dickinson