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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 -

-Emily Dickinson

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It Might Be Lonelier

Emily Dickinson

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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 -

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After A Hundred Years Nobody Knows The Place, Agony, That Enacted There, Motionless As Peace.

People Need Hard Times And Oppression To Develop Psychic Muscles.

Expectation Is Contentment - Gain Satiety.

To Make A Prairie It Takes A Clover And One Bee, -

Love Is Like Life-merely Longer.

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

Mother Daughter

The Appetite For Silence Is Seldom An Acquired Taste.

A Letter Always Seemed To Me Like Immortality Because It Is The Mind Alone Without Corporeal Friend.

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?

She Rose To His Requirement, Dropped The Playthings Of Her Life To Take The Honorable Work Of Woman And Of Wife.

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

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

Wonder Is Not Precisely Knowing.

I Had Been Hungry All The Years- My Noon Had Come, To Dine- I, Trembling, Drew The Table Near And Touched The Curious Wine. 'twas This On Tables I Had Seen When Turning, Hungry, Lone, I Looked In Windows, For The Wealth I Could Not Hope To Own. I Did Not Know The Ample Bread, 'twas So Unlike The Crumb The Birds And I Had Often Shared In Nature's Diningroom. The Plenty Hurt Me, 'twas So New,-- Myself Felt Ill And Odd, As Berry Of A Mountain Bush Transplanted To The Road. Nor Was I Hungry; So I Found That Hunger Was A Way Of Persons Outside Windows, The Entering Takes Away.

I Could Not Prove The Years Had Feet-/yet Confident They Run.

A Light Exists In Spring Not Present In The Year At Any Other Period When March Is Scarcely Here.

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.

Nature, Like Us Is Sometimes Caught Without Her Diadem.

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 Clock Stopped-- Not The Mantel's-- Geneva's Farthest Skill Can't Put The Puppet Bowing-- That Just Now Dangled Still

The Morning After Woe- Tis Frequently The Way- Surpasses All That Rose Before- For Utter Jubilee-.

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

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

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

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!

A Power Of Butterfly Must Be - The Aptitude To Fly Meadows Of Majesty Concedes And Easy Sweeps Of Sky -

Knew I How To Pray, To Intercede For Your [broken] Foot Were Intuitive - But I Am But A Pagan.

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

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

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

Remorse Is Memory Awake.

Forever Is Composed Of Nows 'tis Not A Different Time Except For Infiniteness And Latitude Of Home

After Great Pain, A Formal Feeling Comes — The Nerves Sit Ceremonious, Like Tombs — The Stiff Heart Questions Was It He, That Bore, And Yesterday, Or Centuries Before? The Feet, Mechanical, Go Round — Of Ground, Or Air, Or Ought — A Wooden Way Regardless Grown, A Quartz Contentment, Like A Stone — This Is The Hour Of Lead — Remembered, If Outlived, As Freezing Persons, Recollect The Snow — First — Chill — Then Stupor — Then The Letting Go —

Sweet Skepticism Of The Heart That Knows And Does Not Know And Tosses Like A Fleet Of Balm Affronted By The Snow.

A Light Exists In Spring Not Present On The Year At Any Other Period - When March Is Scarcely Here A Color Stands Abroad On Solitary Fields That Science Cannot Overtake But Human Nature Feels. It Waits Upon The Lawn, It Shows The Furthest Tree Upon The Furthest Slope You Know It Almost Speaks To You. Then As Horizons Step Or Noons Report Away Without The Formula Of Sound It Passes And We Stay - A Quality Of Loss Affecting Our Content As Trade Had Suddenly Encroached Upon A Sacrament.

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.

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!

Anger As Soon As Fed Is Dead- 'tis Starving Makes It Fat.

Somewhere In My Soul A Thought Went Up In My Mind Today That I Have Had Before, But Did Not Finish, Some Way Back, I Could Not Fix The Year. Nor Where It Went, Nor Why It Came The Second Time To Me, Nor Definetly What It Was, Have I The Art To Say. But Somewhere In My Soul, I Know I've Met The Thing Before; It Just Reminded Me-' Twas All'-and Came My Way No More.

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

Love Can Do All But Raise The Dead.

The Truth Must Dazzle Gradually Or Every Man Be Blind.

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.

I Hope Your Rambles Have Been Sweet, And Your Reveries Spacious

'tis Sweet To Know That Stocks Will Stand When We With Daisies Lie- That Commerce Will Continue- And Trades As Briskly Fly.

They Say That 'home Is Where The Heart Is.' I Think It Is Where The House Is, And The Adjacent Buildings.

Longing Is Like A Seed That Wrestles In The Ground

Banish Air From Air Divide Light If You Dare

Because I Could Not Stop For Death, He Kindly Stopped For Me; The Carriage Held But Just Ourselves And Immortality. We Slowly Drove, He Knew No Haste, And I Had Put Away My Labour, And My Leisure Too, For His Civility. We Passed The School Where Children Played, Their Lessons Scarcely Done; We Passed The Fields Of Gazing Grain, We Passed The Setting Sun. We Paused Before A House That Seemed A Swelling Of The Ground; The Roof Was Scarcely Visible, The Cornice But A Mound. Since Then 'tis Centuries; But Each Feels Shorter Than The Day I First Surmised The Horses' Heads Were Toward Eternity.

Nothing Is The Force That Renovates The World.

Earth Is A Merry Damsel, And Heaven A Knight So True

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

One Step At A Time

A Murmur In The Trees - To Note - Not Loud Enough - For Wind - A Star - Not Far Enough To Seek - Nor Near Enough - To Find

Opinion Is A Flitting Thing But Truth Outlasts The Sun.

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.

My Only Sketch, Profile, Of Heaven Is A Large Blue Sky, And Larger Than The Biggest I Have Seen In June - And In It Are My Friends - Every One Of Them.

Spring Is The Period Express From God.

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.

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

My Faith Is Larger Than The Hills— So When The Hills Decay— My Faith Must Take The Purple Wheel To Show The Sun The Way— 'tis First He Steps Upon The Vane— And Then — Upon The Hill— And Then Abroad The World He Go To Do His Golden Will— And If His Yellow Feet Should Miss— The Bird Would Not Arise— The Flowers Would Slumber On Their Stems— No Bells Have Paradise— How Dare I, Therefore, Stint A Faith On Which So Vast Depends— Lest Firmament Should Fail For Me— The Rivet In The Bands

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.

I Am Out With Lanterns, Looking For Myself.

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.

Heavenly Father - Take To Thee The Supreme Iniquity Fashioned By Thy Candid Hand In A Moment Contraband - Though To Trust Us Seem To Us More Respectful - We Are Dust - We Apologize To Thee For Thine Own Duplicity.

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.

Faith—is The Pierless Bridge Supporting What We See Unto The Scene That We Do Not— Too Slender For The Eye It Bears The Soul As Bold As It Were Rocked In Steel With Arms Of Steel At Either Side— It Joins—behind The Veil To What, Could We Presume The Bridge Would Cease To Be To Our Far, Vacillating Feet A First Necessity.

You Can Stay Young As Long As You Learn.

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

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

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

To Be Alive Is Power; Existence In Itself; Without A Further Function; Omnipotence.

To See Her Is A Picture- To Hear Her Is A Tune- To Know Her An Intemperance As Innocent As June- To Know Her Not-affliction- To Own Her For A Friend A Warmth As Near As If The The Sun Were Shining In Your Hand.

Faith Slips - And Laughs, And Rallies

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

I Don't Profess To Be Profound; But I Do Lay Claim To Common Sense.

Words Of Wisdom

I Never Saw A Moor, I Never Saw The Sea; Yet Know I How The Heather Looks, And What A Wave Must Be. I Never Spoke With God, Nor Visited In Heaven; Yet Certain Am I Of The Spot, As If A Chart Were Given.

We Must Be Careful What We Say. No Bird Resumes Its Egg.

Here Is A Little Forest Whose Leaf Is Ever Green; Here Is A Brighter Garden, Where Not A Frost Has Been; In Its Unfading Flowers I Hear The Bright Bee Hum; Prithee, My Brother, Into My Garden Come!

Old Age Comes On Suddenly, And Not Gradually As Is Thought.

A Soft Sea Washed Around The House A Sea Of Summer Air And Rose And Fell The Magic Planks That Sailed Without A Care — For Captain Was The Butterfly For Helmsman Was The Bee And An Entire Universe For The Delighted Crew.

A Wounded Deer Leaps The Highest.

I'll Tell You How The Sun Rose.

My Friends Are My Estate.

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.

You Are Out Of The Way Of Temptation And Out Of The Way Of The Tempter - I Didn't Mean To Make You Wicked - But I Was - And Am - And Shall Be - And I Was With You So Much That I Couldn't Help Contaminate.

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.

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

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

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

This So Much Joy! This So Much Joy! If I Should Fail, What Poverty! And Yet, As Poor As I Have Ventured All Upon A Throw; Have Gained! Yes! Hesitated So This Side The Victory!

I Have An Appetite For Silence.

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?

My Life Closed Twice Before Its Close

A Shady Friend For Torrid Days Is Easier To Find Than One Of Higher Temperature For Frigid Hour Of Mind.

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

To Be Alive──is Power.

Forever Is Comprised Of Nows.

Elysium Is As Far As To The Very Nearest Room, If In That Room A Friend Await Felicity Of Doom.

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

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!

I Miss The Grasshoppers Much, But Suppose It Is All For The Best. I Should Become Too Much Attached To A Trotting World.

The Will Is Always Near, Dear, Though The Feet Vary.

This Is My Letter To The World That Never Wrote To Me

They Address An Eclipse Every Morning, Whom They Call Their "father."

To Fight Aloud Is Very Brave, But Gallanter, I Know, Who Charge Within The Bosom, The Cavalry Of Woe.

To See The Summer Sky Is Poetry, Though Never In A Book It Lie— True Poems Flee—

We Never Know How High We Are Till We Are Called To Rise. Then If We Are True To Form Our Statures Touch The Skies.

Pain - Has An Element Of Blank It Cannot Recollect When It Begun - Or If There Were A Time When It Was Not - It Has No Future - But Itself - Its Infinite Contain Its Past - Enlightened To Perceive New Periods - Of Pain.

Hold Dear To Your Parents For It Is A Scary And Confusing World Without Them.

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

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.

I Held A Jewel In My Fingers And Went To Sleep. The Day Was Warm, And Winds Were Prosy; I Said: "'t Will Keep." I Woke And Chid My Honest Fingers,— The Gem Was Gone; And Now An Amethyst Remembrance Is All I Own.

Our Little Kinsmen After Rain In Plenty May Be Seen, A Pink And Pulpy Multitude The Tepid Ground Upon; A Needless Life If Seemed To Me Until A Little Bird As To A Hospitality Advanced And Breakfasted.

For Love Is Immortality.

It Is True That The Unknown Is The Largest Need Of The Intellect, Though For It, No One Thinks To Thank God.

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.

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

Not If Their Party Were Waiting, Not If To Talk With Me Were To Them Now, Homesickness After Eternity.

Not To Discover Weakness Is The Artifice Of Strength.

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.

Portraits Are To Daily Faces As An Evening West To A Fine, Pedantic Sunshine In A Satin Vest.

I Imagine Therefore I Belong And Am Free.

The Abdication Of Belief Makes The Behavior Small- Better An Ignis Fatuus Than No Illume At All.

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

Home Is The Definition Of God.

I Never Saw A Meme; I Never Saw The Sea.

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 --

That Short, Potential Stir That Each Can Make But Once, That Bustle So Illustrious Tis Almost Consequence, Is The Eclat Of Death.

The Soul Selects Her Own Society, Then Shuts The Door; On Her Divine Majority Obtrude No More.

Truth - Is As Old As God-.

She Dealt Her Pretty Words Like Blades -- How Glittering They Shone -- And Every One Unbared A Nerve Or Wantoned With A Bone -- She Never Deemed -- She Hurt -- That -- Is Not Steel's Affair -- A Vulgar Grimace In The Flesh -- How Ill The Creatures Bear -- To Ache Is Human -- Not Polite -- The Film Upon The Eye Mortality's Old Custom -- Just Locking Up -- To Die.

How Do Most People Live Without Any Thought? There Are Many People In The World,--you Must Have Noticed Them In The Street,--how Do They Live? How Do They Get Strength To Put On Their Clothes In The Morning?

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.

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

By Chivalries As Tiny, A Blossom, Or A Book, The Seeds Of Smiles Are Planted- Which Blossom In The Dark.

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?

A Death-blow Is A Life-blow To Some Who, Till They Died, Did Not Alive Become; Who, Had They Lived, Had Died, But When They Died, Vitality Begun.

A Dominie In Gray-- Put Gently Up The Evening Bars-- And Led The Flock Away

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.

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

The Heart Wants What It Wants - Or Else It Does Not Care

Nature Is A Haunted House--but Art--is A House That Tries To Be Haunted.

A Narrow Fellow In The Grass Occasionally Rides

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers That Perches In The Soul.

Bring Me The Sunset In A Cup.

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

Speech Is One Symptom Of Affection; And Silence One; The Perfect Communication Is Heard Of None.

He Ate And Drank The Precious Words, His Spirit Grew Robust; He Knew No More That He Was Poor, Nor That His Frame Was Dust.

Life Is So Rotatory That The Wilderness Falls To Each, Sometime.

I Would Paint A Portrait Which Would Bring The Tears, Had I Canvas For It, And The Scene Should Be -- Solitude, And The Figures -- Solitude -- And The Lights And Shades, Each A Solitude.

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!

I Am Going To Learn To Make Bread Tomorrow. So If You May Imagine Me With My Sleeves Rolled Up, Mixing Flour, Milk, Saleratus, Etc., With A Deal Of Grace. I Advise You If You Dont Know How To Make The Staff Of Life To Learn With Dispatch.

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

Positive Atheism

In The Name Of The Bee And Of The Butterfly And Of The Breeze, Amen!

You Cannot Fold A Flood And Put It In A Drawer, Because The Winds Would Find It Out And Tell Your Cedar Floor.

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

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

I Dwell In Possiblities.

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.

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

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

Each That We Lose Takes A Part Of Us; A Crescent Still Abides, Which Like The Moon, Some Turbid Night, Is Summoned By The Tides.

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

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.

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

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

Suspense-is Hostiler Than Death-death- Tho Soever Broad, Is Just Death, And Cannot Increase- Suspense-does Not Conclude-.

God's Unique Capacity Is Too Surprising To Surprise.

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

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.

A Little Madness In The Spring Is Wholesome Even For The King, But God Be With The Clown, Who Ponders This Tremendous Scene-- This Whole Experiment In Green, As If It Were His Own!

How Strange That Nature Does Not Knock, And Yet Does Not Intrude!

Finite To Fail, But Infinite To Venture.

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

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

An Ear Can Break A Human Heart As Quickly As A Spear, We Wish The Ear Had Not A Heart So Dangerously Near.

The Past Is Such A Curious Creature To Look Her In The Face A Transport May Receipt Us Or A Disgrace-.

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.

I Died For Beauty But Was Scarce Adjusted In The Tomb, When One Who Died For Truth Was Lain In An Adjoining Room. He Questioned Softly Why I Failed? "for Beauty," I Replied. "and I For Truth, The Two Are One; We Brethren Are," He Said. And So, As Kinsmen Met A Night, We Talked Between The Rooms, Until The Moss Had Reached Our Lips, And Covered Up Our Names.

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

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.

It Is Finished, Is Never Said Of Us

Much Madness Is Divinest Sense, To A Discerning Eye.

A Sick Room Is At Times Too Sacred A Place For A Friend's Knock, Timid As That Is.

Affection Is Like Bread, Unnoticed Till We Starve, And Then We Dream Of It, And Sing Of It, And Paint It, When Every Urchin In The Street Has More Than He Can Eat.

Beauty Is Not Caused, It Is; Chase It And It Ceases, Chase It Not And It Abides.

Prayer Is The Little Implement Through Which Men Reach Where Presence - Is Denied Them. They Fling Their Speech By Means Of It - In God's Ear - If Then He Hear - This Sums The Apparatus Comprised In Prayer

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

I Tasted - Careless - Then - I Did Not Know The Wine Came Once A World - Did You? Oh, Had You Told Me So - This Thirst Would Blister - Easier - Now

Which Anguish Was The Utterest--then-- To Perish, Or To Live?

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!

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

His Labor Is A Chant - His Idleness -a Tune - Oh, For A Bee's Experience Of Clovers, And Of Noon!

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

A Deed Knocks First At Thought And Then - It Knocks At Will - That Is The Manufacturing Spot.

I Felt It Shelter To Speak To You.

The Service Without Hope Is Tenderest, I Think-- ... There Is No Diligence Like That That Knows Not An Until

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

The Supernatural Is Only The Natural Disclosed.

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