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I Was Almost Persuaded To Be A Christian. I Thought I Never Again Could Be Thoughtless And Worldly. But I Soon Forgot My Morning Prayer Or Else It Was Irksome To Me. One By One My Old Habits Returned And I Cared Less For Religion Than Ever.

-Emily Dickinson

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I Was Almost Persuaded

Emily Dickinson

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I Was Almost Persuaded To Be A Christian. I Thought I Never Again Could Be Thoughtless And Worldly. But I Soon Forgot My Morning Prayer Or Else It Was Irksome To Me. One By One My Old Habits Returned And I Cared Less For Religion Than Ever.

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Vinnie Rocks Her Garden And Moans That God Won't Help Her. I Suppose He Is Too Busy Getting Angry With The Wicked Every Day.

I Could Not Stop For Death And He Did Not Stop For Me.

I Dwell In Possibilities .

What Soft--cherubic Creatures-- These Gentlewomen Are-- One Would As Soon Assault A Plush-- Or Violate A Star

Good Times Are Always Mutual; That Is What Makes Good Times.

If I Read A Book And It Makes My Whole Body So Cold No Fire Can Warm Me, I Know That Is Poetry. If I Feel Physically As If The Top Of My Head Were Taken Off, I Know That Is Poetry. These Are The Only Ways I Know It. Is There Any Other Way?

My Friends Are My Estate. Forgive Me Then The Avarice To Hoard Them. They Tell Me Those Who Were Poor Early Have Different Views Of Gold. I Don't Know How That Is. God Is Not So Wary As We, Else He Would Give Us No Friends, Lest We Forget Him.

Presentiment Is That Long Shadow On The Lawn Indicative That Suns Go Down; The Notice To The Startled Grass That Darkness Is About To Pass.

Afraid? Of Whom Am I Afraid? Not Death. For Who Is He?

Whenever A Thing Is Done For The First Time, It Releases A Little Demon.

Success Is Counted Sweetest / By Those Who Ne'er Succeed.

To Be Alive──is Power.

It Sounded As If The Streets Were Running, And Then The Streets Stood Still.

I Have A Bird In Spring Which For Myself Doth Sing - The Spring Decoys. And As The Summer Nears - And As The Rose Appears, Robin Is Gone. Yet Do I Not Repine Knowing That Bird Of Mine Though Flown - Learneth Beyond The Sea Melody New For Me And Will Return.

Pain Has An Element Of Blank

Fame Is A Fickle Food Upon A Shifting Plate, Whose Table Once A Guest, But Not The Second Time, Is Set. Whose Crumbs The Crows Inspect, And With Ironic Caw Flap Past It To The Farmer's Corn; Men Eat Of It And Die.

The Minister Today Preached About Death And Judgment, And What Would Become Of Those Who Behaved Improperly - And Somehow It Scared Me. He Preached Such An Awful Sermon I Didn't Think I Should Ever See You Again Until The Judgment Day. The Subject Of Perdition Seemed To Please Him Somehow.

How Much Can Come And Much Can Go, And Yet Abide The World!

Spring's First Conviction Is A Wealth Beyond Its Whole Experience.

Is Bliss Then, Such Abyss, I Must Not Put My Foot Amiss For Fear I Spoil My Shoe? I'd Rather Suit My Foot Than Save My Boot -- For Yet To Buy Another Pair Is Possible, At Any Store -- But Bliss, Is Sold Just Once. The Patent Lost None Buy It Any More --

The Career Of Flowers Differs From Ours Only Inaudibleness.

Memory Is A Strange Bell—jubilee, And Knell.

Unto A Broken Heart No Other One May Go Without The High Prerogative Itself Hath Suffered Too.

I Lost A World The Other Day. Has Anybody Found? You'll Know It By The Rows Of Stars Around It's Forehead Bound. A Rich Man Might Not Notice It; Yet To My Frugal Eye Of More Esteem Than Ducats. Oh! Find It, Sir, For Me!

Just Girt Me For The Onset With Eternity, When Breath Blew Back, And On The Other Side I Heard Recede The Disappointed Tide!

March Is The Month Of Expectation, The Things We Do Not Know, The Persons Of Prognostication Are Coming Now. We Try To Sham Becoming Firmness, But Pompous Joy Betrays Us, As His First Betrothal Betrays A Boy.

Finite To Fail, But Infinite To Venture.

For Each Ecstatic Instant We Must An Anguish Pay In Keen And Quivering Ratio To The Ecstasy.

Drab Habitation Of Whom? Tabernacle Or Tomb - Or Dome Of Worm - Or Porch Of Gnome - Or Some Elf's Catacomb?

The Loneliness One Dare Not Sound -- And Would As Soon Surmise As In Its Grave Go Plumbing To Ascertain The Size -- The Loneliness Whose Worst Alarm Is Lest Itself Should See -- And Perish From Before Itself For Just A Scrutiny -- The Horror Not To Be Surveyed -- But Skirted In The Dark -- With Consciousness Suspended -- And Being Under Lock -- I Fear Me This -- Is Loneliness -- The Maker Of The Soul Its Caverns And Its Corridors Illuminate -- Or Seal

You Remember My Ideal Cat Has Always A Huge Rat In Its Mouth, Just Going Out Of Sight - Though Going Out Of Sight In Itself Has A Peculiar Pleasure.

I Took One Draught Of Life - I'll Tell You What I Paid - Precisely An Existence - The Market Price, They Said.

Opinion Is A Fitting Thing But Truth Outlasts The Sun - If Then We Cannot Own Them Both, Possess The Oldest One.

Much Madness Is Divinest Sense -- To A Discerning Eye -- Much Sense -- The Starkest Madness -- 'tis The Majority In This, As All, Prevail -- Assent -- And You Are Sane -- Demur -- You're Straightway Dangerous -- And Handled With A Chain --

Because I Could Not Stop For Death, He Kindly Stopped For Me; The Carriage Held But Just Ourselves And Immortality.

Narcotics Cannot Still The Tooth. That Nibbles At The Soul

Immortal Is An Ample Word When What We Need Is By, But When It Leaves Us For A Time, 'tis A Necessity.

Opinion Is A Flitting Thing But Truth Outlasts The Sun.

A Precious, Mouldering Pleasure 't Is To Meet An Antique Book In Just The Dress His Century Wore; A Privilege, I Think, His Venerable Hand To Take, And Warming In Our Own, A Passage Back, Or Two, To Make To Times When He Was Young. His Quaint Opinions To Inspect, His Knowledge To Unfold On What Concerns Our Mutual Mind, The Literature Of Old.

Love Is Anterior To Life, Posterior To Death, Initial Of Creation, And The Exponent Of Breath.

The Sailor Cannot See The North / But Knows The Needle Can.

Portrait The World Spreads Out On Either Side No Farther Than The Heart Is Wide.

Banish Air From Air Divide Light If You Dare

The Reticent Volcano Keeps His Never Slumbering Plan - Confided Are His Projects Pink To No Precarious Man.

The Dandelion's Pallid Tube Astonishes The Grass, And Winter Instantly Becomes An Infinite Alas.

The Things That Never Can Come Back, Are Several- Childhood-some Forms Of Hope-the Dead- Though Joys-like Men-may Sometimes Make A Journey- And Still Abide-.

Love Can Do All But Raise The Dead I Doubt If Even That From Such A Giant Were Withheld Were Flesh Equivalent But Love Is Tired And Must Sleep, And Hungry And Must Graze And So Abets The Shining Fleet Till It Is Out Of Gaze.

Tell All The Truth, But Tell It Slant/success In Circuit Lies.

Congratulations

If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking, I Shall Not Live In Vain.

I Think Heaven Will Not Be As Good As Earth, Unless It Bring With It That Sweet Power To Remember, Which Is The Staple Of Heaven Here.

I Am One Of The Lingering Bad Ones, And So Do I Slink Away, And Pause, And Ponder, And Ponder, And Pause, And Do Work Without Knowing Why - Not Surely For This Brief World, And More Sure It Is Not For Heaven - And I Ask What This Message Of Christ Means.

I . . . Am Small, Like The Wren, And My Hair Is Bold Like The Chestnut Burr; And My Eyes Like The Sherry In The Glass That The Guest Leaves.

I Felt A Cleaving In My Mind- As If My Brain Had Split- I Tried To Match It- Seam By Seam- But Could Not Make It Fit.

The Soul Should Always Stand Ajar, That If The Heaven Inquire, He Will Not Be Obliged To Wait, Or Shy Of Troubling Her. Depart, Before The Host Has Slid The Bolt Upon The Door, To Seek For The Accomplished Guest, -- Her Visitor No More.

Assent - And You Are Sane - Demur - And You're Straightaway Dangerous - And Handled With A Chain.

You Cannot Put A Fire Out! A Thing That Can Ignite Can Go Itself- Without A Flame- E'en Through The Darkest Night!

Time Is Short And Full, Like An Outgrown Frock - .

I'm Nobody! Who Are You? Are You – Nobody – Too? Then There's A Pair Of Us? Don't Tell! They'd Advertise – You Know! How Dreary – To Be – Somebody! How Public – Like A Frog – To Tell One's Name – The Livelong June – To An Admiring Bog!

For Love Is Immortality.

The Distance That The Dead Have Gone Does Not At First Appear- Their Coming Back Seems Possible For Many An Ardent Year.

This Is My Letter To The World, That Never Wrote To Me, The Simple News That Nature Told, With Tender Majesty. Her Message Is Committed, To Hands I Cannot See; For Love Of Her, Sweet Countrymen, Judge Tenderly Of Me.

Exultation Is The Going Of An Inland Soul To Sea Past The Houses, Past The Headlands Into Deep Eternity! Bred As We, Among The Mountains Can The Sailor Understand The Divine Intoxication Of The First League Out From Land?

God, Keep Me From What They Call 'households,'

The World Allured Me & In An Unguarded Moment I Listened To Her Siren Voice. From That Moment I Seemed To Lose Interest In Heavenly Things. Friends Reasoned With Me & Told Me Of The Danger I Was In. I Felt My Danger & Was Alarmed, But I Had Rambled Too Far To Return & Ever Since My Heart Has Been Growing Harder.

Wild Nights – Wild Nights! Were I With Thee Wild Nights Should Be Our Luxury! Futile – The Winds – To A Heart In Port – Done With The Compass – Done With The Chart! Rowing In Eden – Ah, The Sea! Might I Moor – Tonight – In Thee!

The Sweets Of Pillage Can Be Known To No One But The Thief, Compassion For Integrity Is His Divinest Grief.

The Dearest Ones Of Time, The Strongest Friends Of The Soul--books.

The Poet Lights The Light And Fades Away. But The Light Goes On And On.

He Fumbles At Your Spirit As Players At The Keys Before They Drop Full Music On; He Stuns You By Degrees. Prepares Your Brittle Substance For The Ethereal Blow By Fainter Hammers, Further Heard, Then Nearer, Then So Slow Your Breath Has Time To Straighten Your Brain To Bubble Cool,- Deals One Imperial Thunderbolt That Scalps Your Naked Soul.

If I Read A Book And It Makes My Whole Body So Cold No Fire Can Ever Warm Me, I Know That Is Poetry.

Belshazzar Had A Letter,-- He Never Had But One; Belshazzar's Correspondence Concluded And Begun In That Immortal Copy The Conscience Of Us All Can Read Without Its Glasses On Revelation's Wall.

I Think Of Love, And You, And My Heart Grows Full And Warm, And My Breath Stands Still... I Can Feel A Sunshine Stealing Into My Soul And Making It All Summer, And Every Thorn, A Rose.

The Hearts That Never Lean Must Fall.

The Last Of Summer Is Delight - Deterred By Retrospect. 'tis Ecstasy's Revealed Review - Enchantment's Syndicate. To Meet It - Nameless As It Is - Without Celestial Mail - Audacious As Without A Knock To Walk Within The Veil.

One Need Not Be A Chamber - To Be Haunted - One Need Not Be A House - The Brain - Has Corridors - Surpassing Material Place - Far Safer, Of A Midnight - Meeting External Ghost - Than An Interior - Confronting - That Cooler - Host. Far Safer, Through An Abbey - Gallop - The Stones A'chase - Than Moonless - One's A'self Encounter - In Lonesome Place - Ourself - Behind Ourself - Concealed - Should Startle - Most.

One Need Not Be A Chamber To Be Haunted; One Need Not Be A House; The Brain Has Corridors Surpassing Material Place.

A Precious, Mouldering Pleasure 't Is, To Meet An Antique Book, In Just The Dress His Century Wore; A Privilege I Think.

I Hope You're Very Careful Working, Eating And Drinking When The Heat Is So Great--there Are Temptations There Which At Home You Are Free From--beware The Juicy Fruits, And The Cooling Ades, And Cordials, And Do Not Eat Ice-cream, It Is So Very Dangerous.

Not One Of All The Purple Host Who Took The Flag To-day Can Tell The Definition So Clear Of Victory, As He, Defeated, Dying, On Whose Forbidden Ear The Distant Strains Of Triumph Break Agonized And Clear.

My Best Acquaintances Are Those With Whom I Spoke No Word

The Spider As An Artist Has Never Been Employed- Though His Surpassing Merit Is Freely Certified.

I Started Early, Took My Dog, And Visited The Sea; The Mermaids In The Basement Came Out To Look At Me

[a] Mother Is One To Whom You Hurry When You Are Troubled.

Mother Daughter

It Is Essential To The Sanity Of Mankind That Each One Should Think The Other Crazy - A Condition With Which The Cynicism Of Human Nature So Cordially Complies, One Could Wish It Were A Concurrence Upon A Subject More Noble.

I Do Not Know The Man So Bold He Dare In Lonely Place That Awful Stranger Consciousness Deliberately Face-.

Nature Is What We See - The Hill, The Afternoon, Squirrel, Eclipse, The Bumblebee. Nay, Nature Is Heaven. Nature Is What We Hear...

You Ask Of My Companions. Hills, Sir, And The Sundown, And A Dog As Large As Myself.

A Narrow Fellow In The Grass Occasionally Rides

Remorse Is Memory Awake.

Witchcraft Was Hung, In History, But History And I Find All The Witchcraft That We Need Around Us, Every Day -

If Aims Impel These Astral Ones The Ones Allowed To Know Know That Which Makes Them As Forgot As Dawn Forgets Them Now

Faith-is The Pierless Bridge Supporting What We See Unto The Scene That We Do Not.

Look Back On Time With Kindly Eyes, He Doubtless Did His Best; How Softly Sinks His Trembling Sun In Human Nature's West!

The Life We Have Is Very Great. The Life That We Shall See Surpasses It, We Know, Because It Is Infinity, But When All Space Has Been Beheld And All Dominion Shown The Smallest Human Heart's Extent Reduces It To None.

When Everything That Ticked Has Stopped, And Space Stares, All Around, Or Grisly Frosts, First Autumn Morns, Repeal The Beating Ground.

I Took My Power In My Hand -- And Went Against The World -- 'twas Not So Much As David -- Had -- But I -- Was Twice As Bold -- I Aimed By Pebble -- But Myself Was All The One That Fell -- Was It Goliath -- Was Too Large -- Or Was Myself -- Too Small?

The Heart Asks Pleasure First, And Then, Excuse From Pain; And Then, Those Little Anodynes That Deaden Suffering; And Then, To Go To Sleep; And Then, If It Should Be The Will Of Its Inquisitor, The Liberty To Die.

They Say That God Is Everywhere, And Yet We Always Think Of Him As Somewhat Of A Recluse.

... And Then I Heard Them Lift A Box, And Creak Across My Soul With Those Same Boots Of Lead, Again, Then Space Began To Toll.

Tell All The Truth But Tell It Slant-- Success In Circuit Lies Too Bright For Our Infirm Delight The Truth's Superb Surprise As Lightning To The Children Eased With Explanation Kind The Truth Must Dazzle Gradually Or Every Man Be Blind--

Congratulations

Dogs Are Better Than Human Beings Because They Know But Do Not Tell.

Forever Is Made Up Of Nows.

Mirth Is The Mail Of Anguish --

In This Short Life That Only Lasts Ah Hour How Much-how Little-is Within Our Power.

Love Is Done When Loves Begun, Sages Say, But Have Sages Known?

I Know Some Lonely Houses Off The Road A Robber'd Like The Look Of,-- Wooden Barred, And Windows Hanging Low

Renunciation-is A Piercing Virtue-the Letting Go A Presence-for An Expectation-.

People Need Hard Times And Oppression To Develop Psychic Muscles.

We Do Not Play On Graves— Because There Isn't 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—

To Die Before One Fears To Die May Be A Boon.

Superiority To Fate Is Difficult To Gain 'tis Not Conferred Of Any But Possible To Earn.

I See Thee Better In The Dark, I Do Not Need A Light. The Love Of Thee A Prism Be Excelling Violet. I See Thee Better For The Years That Hunch Themselves Between, The Miner’s Lamp Sufficient Be To Nullify The Mine. And In The Grave I See Thee Best— Its Little Panels Be A-glow, All Ruddy With The Light I Held So High For Thee! What Need Of Day To Those Whose Dark Hath So Surpassing Sun, It Seem It Be Continually At The Meridian?

One Step At A Time Is All It Takes To Get You There.

One Step At A Time

I Stepped From Plank To Plank So Slow And Cautiously; 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.

We Meet No Stranger, But Ourself.

If I Shouldn't Be Alive When The Robins Come, Give The One In Red Cravat, A Memorial Crumb.

Love Is Like The Wild Rose-briar; Friendship Like The Holly-tree. The Holly Is Dark When The Rose-briar Blooms, But Which Will Bloom Most Constantly? The Wild Rose-briar Is Sweet In Spring ,its Summer Blossoms Scent The Air; Yet Wait Till Winter Comes Again, And Who Will Call The Wild-briar Fair? Then, Scorn The Silly Rose-wreath Now, And Deck Thee With Holly's Sheen, That, When December Blights Thy Brow, He Still May Leave Thy Garland Green.

This World Is Not Conclusion. A Sequel Stands Beyond- Invisible, As Music- But Positive, As Sound.

Two Seasons, It Is Said, Exist- The Summer Of The Just, And This Of Ours, Diversified With Prospect, And With Frost- May Not Our Second With Its First So Infinite Compare That We But Recollect The One The Other To Prefer?

A Word Is Dead When It Is Said, Some Say. I Say It Just Begins To Live That Day.

A Little Madness In The Spring Is Wholesome Even For The King.

Find Ecstasy In Life; The Mere Sense Of Living Is Joy Enough.

The Soul Selects Her Own Society.

Longing Is Like A Seed That Wrestles In The Ground

Those Who Have Not Found The Heaven Below, Will Fail Of It Above.

She Died--this Was The Way She Died; And When Her Breath Was Done, Took Up Her Simple Wardrobe And Started For The Sun. Her Little Figure At The Gate The Angels Must Have Spied, Since I Could Never Find Her Upon The Mortal Side.

All Things Do Go A-courting, In Earth, Or Sea, Or Air, God Hath Made Nothing Single But Thee In His World So Fair.

I Had A Terror-since September -i Could Tell To None-and So I Sing, As The Boy Does By The Burying Ground-because I Am Afraid.

There Is Always One Thing To Be Grateful For - That One Is One's Self And Not Somebody Else.

So Proud She Was To Die It Made Us All Ashamed That What We Cherished, So Unknown To Her Desire Seemed. So Satisfied To Go Where None Of Us Should Be, Immediately, That Anguish Stooped Almost To Jealousy.

Hope . . . Never Stops At All.

Some Arrows Slay But Whom They Strike - But This Slew All But Him - Who So Appareled His Escape - Too Trackless For A Tomb

The Heart Asks Pleasure--first-- And Then--excuse From Pain

To Venerate The Simple Days Which Lead The Seasons By, Needs But To Remember That From You Or I They May Take The Trifle Termed Mortality!

God Gave A Loaf To Every Bird, But Just A Crumb To Me.

Victory Comes Late-- And Is Held Low To Freezing Lips-- Too Rapt With Frost To Take It

I Dwell In Possibility A Fairer House Than Prose More Numerous Of Windows Superior--for Doors Of Chambers As The Cedars Impregnable Of Eye And For An Everlasting Roof The Gambrels Of The Sky Of Visitors--the Fairest For Occupation--this The Spreading Wide My Narrow Hands To Gather Paradise

Forever - Is Composed Of Nows - 'tis Not A Different Time... Let Months Dissolve In Further Months - And Years - Exhale In Years.

The Only Commandment I Ever Obeyed — 'consider The Lilies.

Friends Are Nations In Themselves.

The Things That Never Can Come Back, Are Several - Childhood - Some Forms Of Hope - The Dead.

To Possess Is Past The Instant; We Achieve The Joy, Immortality Contented, Were Anomaly.

Mine Enemy Is Growing Old -- I Have At Last Revenge -- The Palate Of The Hate Departs -- If Any Would Avenge Let Him Be Quick -- The Viand Flits -- It Is A Faded Meat -- Anger As Soon As Fed Is Dead -- 'tis Starving Makes It Fat

As Summer Into Autumn Slips And Yet We Sooner Say "the Summer" Than "the Autumn," Lest We Turn The Sun Away, And Almost Count It An Affront The Presence To Concede Of One However Lovely, Not The One That We Have Loved - So We Evade The Charge Of Years On One Attempting Shy The Circumvention Of The Shaft Of Life's Declivity.

I Am Nobody! Who Are You? Are You A Nobody, Too?

You Left Me Boundaries Of Pain Capacious As The Sea, Between Eternity And Time, Your Consciousness And Me.

What Will The Solemn Hemlock- What Will The Oak Tree Say?

The Heart Is The Capital Of The Mind— The Mind Is A Single State— The Heart And The Mind Together Make A Single Continent— One—is The Population— Numerous Enough— This Ecstatic Nation Seek—it Is Yourself.

I'll Tell You How The Sun Rose, A Ribbon At A Time. The Steeples Swam In Amethyst, The News Like Squirrels Ran. The Hills Untied Their Bonnets, The Bobolinks Begun. Then I Said Softly To Myself, "that Must Have Been The Sun!

Unable Are The Loved To Die For Love Is Immortality, Nay, It Is Deity - Unable They That Love - To Die For Love Reforms Vitality Into Divinity.

Safe Despair It Is That Raves- Agony Is Frugal. Puts Itself Severe Away For Its Own Perusal.

My Life Had Stood - A Loaded Gun - In Corners - Till A Day The Owner Passed - Identified - And Carried Me Away -

The Crime, From Us, Is Hidden, [though] He Is Presumed To Know.

Positive Atheism

If I Feel Physically As If The Top Of My Head Were Taken Off, I Know That Is Poetry.

'arcturus' Is His Other Name- I'd Rather Call Him 'star.' It's Very Mean Of Science To Go And Interfere!

I Work To Drive The Awe Away, Yet Awe Impels The Work.

The Only Secret People Keep Is Immortality.

Inebriate Of Air Am I, And Debauchee Of Dew, Reeling, Through Endless Summer Days, From Inns Of Molten Blue.

And Then--a Day As Huge As Yesterdays In Pairs, Unrolled Its Horror In My Face-- Until It Blocked My Eyes

Beauty Is Not The Cause Of Something, It Is What It Is.

It Is What It Is

What Shall We Do My Darling, When Trial Grows More, And More, When The Dim, Lone Light Expires, And It's Dark, So Very Dark, And We Wander, And Know Not Where, And Cannot Get Out Of The Forest - Whose Is The Hand To Help Us, And To Lead, And Forever Guide Us? ... Where Do You Think I've Strayed And From What New Errand Returned. I Have Come From To And Fro, And Walking Up And Down The Same Place That Satan Hailed From When God Asked Where He'd Been.

To Shut Your Eyes Is To Travel.

His Cheek Is His Biographer- As Long As He Can Blush.

His Mind Of Man, A Secret Makes I Meet Him With A Start He Carries A Circumference In Which I Have No Part.

Surgeons Must Be Very Careful When They Take The Knife! Underneath Their Fine Incisions Stirs The Culprit-life!

Tis Not That Dieing Hurts Us So- Tis Living- Hurts Us More.

How Odd That Girl's Life Looks Behind This Soft Eclipse! I Think That Earth Seems So To Those In Heaven Now. This Being Comfort, Then That Other Kind Was Pain; But Why Compare? I'm Wife! Stop There!

Forever Is Comprised Of Nows.

The Soul Should Always Stand Ajar, Ready To Welcome The Ecstatic Experience.

Ample Make This Bed. Make This Bed With Awe; In It Wait Till Judgment Break Excellent And Fair. Be Its Mattress Straight, Be Its Pillow Round; Let No Sunrise’ Yellow Noise Interrupt This Ground.

Spring Is The Period Express From God. Among The Other Seasons Himself Abide, But During March And April None Stir Abroad Without A Cordial Interview With God.

Heart, We Will Forget Him! You And I, To-night! You May Forget The Warmth He Gave, I Will Forget The Light. When You Have Done, Pray Tell Me, That I My Thoughts May Dim; Haste! Lest While You’re Lagging, I May Remember Him!

It Might Be Lonelier Without The Loneliness - I’m So Accustomed To My Fate - Perhaps The Other - Peace - Would Interrupt The Dark - And Crowd The Little Room - Too Scant - By Cubits - To Contain The Sacrament - Of Him - I Am Not Used To Hope - It Might Intrude Upon - Its Sweet Parade - Blaspheme The Place - Ordained To Suffering - It Might Be Easier To Fail - With Land In Sight - Than Gain - My Blue Peninsula - To Perish - Of Delight -

Longing, It May Be, Is The Gift No Other Gift Supplies.

The Morns Are Meeker Than They Were, The Nuts Are Getting Brown; The Berry's Cheek Is Plumper, The Rose Is Out Of Town. The Maple Wears A Gayer Scarf, The Field A Scarlet Gown. Lest I Should Be Old-fashioned, I'll Put A Trinket On.

A Color Stands Abroad On Solitary Hills That Silence Cannot Overtake, But Human Nature Feels.

The Pedigree Of Honey Does Not Concern The Bee; A Clover, Any Time, To Him Is Aristocracy.

You'll Find It-when You Try To Die- The Easier To Let Go- For Recollecting Such As Went- You Could Not Spare-you Know.

But A Book Is Only The Heart's Portrait- Every Page A Pulse.

How Very Sad It Is To Have A Confiding Nature, One's Hopes And Feelings Are Quite At The Mercy Of All Who Come Along; And How Very Desirable To Be A Stolid Individual, Whose Hopes And Aspirations Are Safe In One's Waistcoat Pocket, And That A Pocket Indeed, And One Not To Be Picked!

I Wonder If It Hurts To Live, And If They Have To Try, And Whether, Could They Choose Between, They Would Not Rather Die.

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers That Perches In The Soul, And Sings The Tune Without The Words, And Never Stops At All, And Sweetest In The Gale Is Heard; And Sore Must Be The Storm That Could Abash The Little Bird That Kept So Many Warm. I've Heard It In The Chilliest Land And On The Strangest Sea; Yet, Never, In Extremity, It Asked A Crumb Of Me.

Judge Tenderly Of Me.

An Altered Look About The Hills; A Tyrian Light The Village Fills; A Wider Sunrise In The Dawn; A Deeper Twilight On The Lawn; A Print Of A Vermilion Foot; A Purple Finger On The Slope; A Flippant Fly Upon The Pane; A Spider At His Trade Again; An Added Strut In Chanticleer; A Flower Expected Everywhere.

A Wounded Deer Leaps The Highest.

I See Thee Better In The Dark I Do Not Need A Light.

And You Dropt, Lost, When Something Broke-- And Let You From A Dream

The Lovely Flowers Embarrass Me. They Make Me Regret I Am Not A Bee.

I Can Wade Grief -- Whole Pools Of It -- I'm Used To That -- But The Least Push Of Joy Breaks Up My Feet -- And I Tip -- Drunken -- Let No Pebble -- Smile -- 'twas The New Liquor -- That Was All!

That It Will Never Come Again Is What Makes Life Sweet.

Had We Less To Say To Those We Love, Perhaps We Should Say It Oftener.

You Can Stay Young As Long As You Learn.

There Is No Frigate Like A Book

My River Runs To Thee: Blue Sea, Wilt Welcome Me? My River Waits Reply. Oh Sea, Look Graciously! I ’ll Fetch Thee Brooks From Spotted Nooks,— Say, Sea, Take Me!

That No Flake Of [snow] Fall On You Or Them - Is A Wish That Would Be A Prayer, Were Emily Not A Pagan.

If Fame Belonged To Me, I Could Not Escape Her; If She Did Not, The Longest Day Would Pass Me On The Chase, And The Approbation Of My Dog Would Forsake Me.

Grant Me, O Lord, A Sunny Mind-thy Windy Will To Bear!

I Hide Myself Within My Flower That Wearing On Your Breast, You, Unsuspecting, Wear Me Too - And Angels Know The Rest. I Hide Myself Within My Flower, That, Fading From Your Vase, You, Unsuspecting, Feel For Me Almost A Loneliness.

We Trust In Plumed Procession For Such The Angels Go Rank After Rank, With Even Feet/and Uniforms Of Snow.

I Like A Look Of Agony, Because I Know It's True - Men Do Not Sham Convulsion, Nor Simulate, A Throe

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