Emily Dickinson
poetessa statunitense
«The Robin for the Crumb | Returns no syllable | But long records the Lady's name | In Silver Chronicle.»
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«Fame is the tint that Scholars leave | Upon their Setting Names - | The Iris not of Occident | That disappears as comes.»
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«Escaping backward to perceive | The Sea upon our place - | Escaping forward, to confront | His glittering Embrace - | Retreating up, a Billow's hight | Retreating blinded down | Our undermining feet to meet | Instructs to the Divine.»
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«They ask but our Delight - | The Darlings of the Soil | And grant us all their Countenance | For a penurious smile.»
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«Because the Bee may blameless hum | For Thee a Bee do I become | List even unto Me - | Because the Flowers unafraid | May lift a look on thine, a Maid | Alway a Flower would be - | | Nor Robins, Robins need not hide | When Thou upon their Crypts intrude | So Wings bestow on Me | Or Petals, or a Dower of Buzz | That Bee to ride - or Flower of Furze | I that way worship Thee.»
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«Finding is the first Act | The second, loss, | Third, Expedition for the "Golden Fleece" | Fourth, no Discovery - | Fifth, no Crew - | Finally, no Golden Fleece - | Jason, sham, too.»
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«I stepped from Plank to Plank | A slow and cautious way | The Stars about my Head I felt | About my Feet the Sea - | I knew not but the next | Would be my final inch - | This gave me that precarious Gait | Some call Experience.»
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«It was a Grave - yet bore no Stone - | Enclosed 'twas not - of Rail - | A Consciousness - it's Acre - And | It held a Human Soul - | Entombed by whom - for what offence - | If Home or foreign - born - | Had I the Curiosity - | 'Twere not appeased of Man - | | Till Resurrection, I must guess - | Denied the small desire | A Rose upon it's Ridge - to sow - | Or sacrificial Flower.»
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«The Sun and Moon must make their haste - | The Stars express around | For in the Zones of Paradise | The Lord alone is burned - | His Eye, it is the East and West - | The North and South when He | Do concentrate His Countenance | Like Glow Worms, flee away - | | Oh Poor and Far - | Oh Hindered Eye | That hunted for the Day - | The Lord a Candle entertains | Entirely for Thee.»
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«As the Starved Maelstrom laps the Navies | As the Vulture teazed | Forces the Broods in lonely Valleys | As the Tiger eased | By but a Crumb of Blood, fasts Scarlet | Till he meet a Man | Dainty adorned with Veins and Tissues | And partakes - his Tongue | | Cooled by the Morsel for a moment | Grows a fiercer thing | Till he esteem his Dates and Cocoa | A Nutrition mean | | I, of a finer Famine | Deem my Supper dry | For but a Berry of Domingo | And a Torrid Eye.»
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«Ribbons of the Year - | Multitude Brocade - | Worn to Nature's Party once | Then, as flung aside | As a faded Bead | Or a Wrinkled Pearl - | Who shall charge the Vanity | Of the Maker's Girl?»
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«They wont frown always - some sweet Day | When I forget to teaze - | They'll recollect how cold I looked | And how I just said "Please". | Then They will hasten to the Door | To call the little Girl | Who cannot thank Them for the Ice | That filled the lisping full.»
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«I've none to tell me to but Thee | So when Thou failest, nobody - | It was a little tie - | It just held Two, nor those it held | Since Somewhere thy sweet Face has spilled | Beyond my Boundary - | If things were opposite - and Me | And Me it were - that ebbed from Thee | On some unanswering Shore - | Would'st Thou seek so - just say | That I the Answer may pursue | Unto the lips it eddied through - | So - overtaking Thee.»
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«Each Scar I'll keep for Him | Instead I'll say of Gem | In His long Absence worn | A Costlier One | But every Tear I bore | Were He to count them o'er | His own would fall so more | I'll missum them.»
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«The Sun is gay or stark | According to our Deed - | If Merry, He is merrier - | If eager for the Dead | Or an expended Day | He helped to make too bright | His mighty pleasure suits Us not | It magnifies our Freight.»
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«Each Second is the last | Perhaps, recalls the Man | Just measuring unconsciousness | The Sea and Spar between - | To fail within a Chance - | How terribler a thing | Than perish from the Chance's list | Before the Perishing!»
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«The Bird must sing to earn the Crumb | What merit have the Tune | No Breakfast if it guaranty | The Rose content may bloom | To gain renown of Lady's Drawer | But if the Lady come | But once a Century, the Rose | Superfluous become.»
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«An Everywhere of Silver | With Ropes of Sand | To keep it from effacing | The Track called Land.»
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«A Shade upon the mind there passes | As when on Noon | A Cloud the mighty Sun encloses | Remembering | That some there be too numb to notice | Oh God | Why give if Thou must take away | The Loved?»
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«The Poets light but Lamps - | Themselves - go out - | The Wicks they stimulate - | If vital Light | Inhere as do the Suns - | Each Age a Lens | Disseminating their | Circumference.»
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