This was a Poet (448), di Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

This was a Poet (448)

This was a Poet —It is That

Distills amazing sense

From ordinary Meanings —

And Attar so immense

From the familiar species

That perished by the Door —

We wonder it was not Ourselves

Arrested it —before —

Of Pictures, the Discloser —

The Poet —it is He —

Entitles Us —by Contrast —

To ceaseless Poverty —

Of portion —so unconscious —

The Robbing —could not harm —

Himself —to Him —a Fortune —

Exterior —to Time —

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury

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I Could Not Prove the Years Had Feet

563 I could not prove the Years had f… Yet confident they run Am I, from symptoms that are past And Series that are done—

Sleep Is Supposed to Be

13 Sleep is supposed to be By souls of sanity The shutting of the eye. Sleep is the station grand

’Tis Customary as We Part

440 ’Tis customary as we part A trinket—to confer— It helps to stimulate the faith When Lovers be afar—

I Reason, Earth Is Short

301 I reason, Earth is short— And Anguish—absolute— And many hurt, But, what of that?

The Test of Love—is Death—

573 The Test of Love—is Death— Our Lord—"so loved"—it saith— What Largest Lover—hath Another—doth—

The dying need but little, dear

The dying need but little, dear,— A glass of water’s all, A flower’s unobtrusive face To punctuate the wall, A fan, perhaps, a friend’s regret,

I’ll Clutch—and Clutch

427 I’ll clutch—and clutch— Next—One—Might be the golden touc… Could take it— Diamonds—Wait—

Life IV. ’T is so much joy! ’T is so much joy! (172)

’T IS so much joy! ’T is so much… If I should fail, what poverty! And yet, as poor as I Have ventured all upon a throw; Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so

A Narrow Fellow in the Grass

A narrow fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not, His notice sudden is. The grass divides as with a comb,

A Toad Can Die of Light!

A toad can die of light! Death is the common right Of toads and men,— Of earl and midge The privilege.

A solemn thing—it was—I said—

271 A solemn thing—it was—I said— A woman—white—to be— And wear—if God should count me f… Her blameless mystery—

Life LII. Victory comes late (690)

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

Crumbling Is Not an Instant’s Act

997 Crumbling is not an instant’s Act A fundamental pause Dilapidation’s processes Are organized Decays.

He found my Being—set it up—

603 He found my Being—set it up— Adjusted it to place— Then carved his name—upon it— And bade it to the East

“I want”—it pleaded—All its life—

731 “I want”—it pleaded—All its life— I want—was chief it said When Skill entreated it—the last— And when so newly dead—

Emily Dickinson