Emily Dickinson

«Live with Him - I see His face - | I go no more away | For Visitor - or Sundown - | Death's single privacy | The Only One - forestalling Mine - | And that - by Right that He | Presents a Claim invisible - | No wedlock - granted Me - | | I live with Him - I hear His Voice - | I stand alive - Today - | To witness to the Certainty | Of Immortality - | | Taught Me - by Time - the lower Way - | Conviction - Every day - | That Life like This - is stopless - | Be Judgment - what it may.»

«The Manner of it's Death | When Certain it must die - | 'Tis deemed a privilege to choose - | 'Twas Major Andre's Way - | When Choice of Life - is past - | There yet remains a Love | It's little Fate to stipulate - | | How small in those who live - | | The Miracle to teaze | With Babble of the styles - | How "they are Dying mostly - now" - | And Customs at "St. James"!»

«We do not play on Graves - | Because there is'nt Room - | Besides - it isn't even - it slants | And People come - | And put a Flower on it - | And hang their faces so - | We're fearing that their Hearts will drop - | And crush our pretty play - | | And so we move as far | As Enemies - away - | Just looking round to see how far | It is - Occasionally.»

«'Tis little I - could care for Pearls - | Who own the ample sea - | Or Brooches - when the Emperor - | With Rubies - pelteth me - | Or Gold - who am the Prince of Mines - | Or Diamonds - when have I | A Diadem to fit a Dome - | Continual upon me.»

«The Himmaleh was known to stoop | Unto the Daisy low - | Transported with Compassion | That such a Doll should grow | Where Tent by Tent - Her Universe | Hung out it's Flags of Snow.»

«To make One's Toilette - after Death | Has made the Toilette cool | Of only Taste we cared to please | Is difficult, and still - | That's easier - than Braid the Hair - | And make the Bodice gay - | When Eyes that fondled it are wrenched | By Decalogues - away.»

«My Garden - like the Beach - | Denotes there be - a Sea - | That's Summer - | Such as These - the Pearls | She fetches - such as Me.»

«A Solemn thing within the Soul | To feel itself get ripe - | And golden hang - while farther up - | The Maker's Ladders stop - | And in the Orchard far below - | You hear a Being - drop - | A Wonderful - to feel the Sun | Still toiling at the Cheek | You thought was finished - | Cool of eye, and critical of Work - | He shifts the stem - a little - | To give your Core - a look - | | But solemnest - to know | Your chance in Harvest moves | A little nearer - Every Sun | The Single - to some lives.»

«We Cover Thee - Sweet Face - | Not that We tire of Thee - | But that Thyself fatigue of Us - | Remember - as Thou go - | We follow Thee until | Thou notice Us - no more - | And then - reluctant - turn away | To Con Thee oer and oer - | And blame the scanty love | We were Content to show - | Augmented - Sweet - a Hundred fold - | If Thou would'st take it - now.»

«Myself was formed - a Carpenter - | An unpretending time | My Plane - and I, together wrought | Before a Builder came - | To measure our attainments - | Had we the Art of Boards | Sufficiently developed - He'd hire us | At Halves - | | My Tools took Human - Faces - | The Bench, where we had toiled - | Against the Man - persuaded - | We - Temples build - I said.»

«You love the Lord - you cannot see - | You write Him - every day - | A little note - when you awake - | And further in the Day, | An Ample Letter - How you miss - | And would delight to see - | But then His House - is but a Step - | And mine's - in Heaven - You see.»

«We pray - to Heaven - | We prate - of Heaven - | Relate - when Neighbors die - | At what o'clock to Heaven - they fled - | Who saw them - Wherefore fly? | | Is Heaven a Place - a Sky - a Tree? | Location's narrow way is for Ourselves - | Unto the Dead | There's no Geography - | | But State - Endowal - Focus - | Where - Omnipresence - fly?»

«While it is alive | Until Death touches it | While it and I lap one Air | Dwell in one Blood | Under one Sacrament | Show me Division can split or pare - | Love is like Life - merely longer | Love is like Death, during the Grave | Love is the Fellow of the Resurrection | Scooping up the Dust and chanting "Live".»

«To One denied the drink | To tell what Water is | Would be acuter, would it not | Than letting Him surmise? | To lead Him to the Well | And let Him hear it drip | Remind Him, would it not, somewhat | Of His condemned lip.»

«Civilization - spurns - the Leopard! | Was the Leopard - bold? | Deserts - never rebuked her Satin - | Ethiop - her Gold - | Tawny - her Customs - | She was Conscious - | Spotted - her Dun Gown - | This was the Leopard's nature - Signor - | Need - a keeper - frown? | Pity - the Pard - that left her Asia - | Memories - of Palm - | Cannot be stifled - with Narcotic - | Nor suppressed - with Balm.»

«Morning" - means "Milking" - to the Farmer - | Dawn - to the Teneriffe - | Dice - to the Maid - | Morning means just Risk - to the Lover - | Just revelation - to the Beloved - | Epicures - date a Breakfast - by it - | Brides - an Apocalypse - | Worlds - a Flood - | Faint-going Lives - Their Lapse from Sighing - | Faith - The Experiment of Our Lord.»

«She's happy, with a new Content - | That feels to her - like Sacrament - | She's busy - with an altered Care - | As just apprenticed to the Air - | She's tearful - if she weep at all - | For blissful Causes - Most of all | That Heaven permit so meek as her - | To such a Fate - to Minister.»

«The Heart asks Pleasure - first - | And then - Excuse from Pain - | And then - those little Anodyness | That deaden suffering - | And then - to go to sleep - | And then - if it should be | The will of it's Inquisitor | The privilege to die.»

«'Tis true - They shut me in the Cold - | But then - Themselves were warm | And could not know the feeling 'twas - | Forget it - Lord - of Them - | Let not my Witness hinder Them | In Heavenly esteem - | No Paradise could be - Conferred | Through Their beloved Blame - | | The Harm They did - was short - And since | Myself - who bore it - do - | Forgive Them - Even as Myself - | Or else - forgive not me.»

«The Province of the Saved | Should be the Art - To Save - | Through Skill obtained in Themselves - | The Science of the Grave | No Man can understand | But He that hath endured | The Dissolution - in Himself - | That Man - be qualified | | To qualify Despair | To Those who failing new - | Mistake Defeat for Death - Each time - | Till acclimated - to.»