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Emily Dickinson

Poems by Emily Dickinson, Series One

  • b0590721689has quotedlast year
    Mine by the right of the white election!
    Mine by the royal seal!
    Mine by the sign in the scarlet prison
    Bars cannot conceal!
    Mine, here in vision and in veto!
    Mine, by the grave's repeal
    Titled, confirmed, — delirious charter!
    Mine, while the ages steal!
  • b0590721689has quotedlast year
    THE MYSTERY OF PAIN.
    Pain has an element of blank;
    It cannot recollect
    When it began, or if there were
    A day when it was not.
    It has no future but itself,
    Its infinite realms contain
    Its past, enlightened to perceive
    New periods of pain.
  • b6488641020has quoted3 years ago
    Because you saturated sight,
    And I had no more eyes
    For sordid excellence
    As Paradise.

    And were you lost, I would be,
    Though my name
    Rang loudest
    On the heavenly fame.

    And were you saved,
    And I condemned to be
    Where you were not,
    That self were hell to me.

    So we must keep apart,
    You there, I here,
    With just the door ajar
    That oceans are,
    And prayer,
    And that pale sustenance,
    Despair!
  • b6488641020has quoted3 years ago
    XII.
    IN VAIN.
    I CANNOT live with you,
    It would be life,
    And life is over there
    Behind the shelf

    The sexton keeps the key to,
    Putting up
    Our life, his porcelain,
    Like a cup

    Discarded of the housewife,
    Quaint or broken;
    A newer Sevres pleases,
    Old ones crack.

    I could not die with you,
    For one must wait
    To shut the other's gaze down, —
    You could not.

    And I, could I stand by
    And see you freeze,
    Without my right of frost,
    Death's privilege?

    Nor could I rise with you,
    Because your face
    Would put out Jesus',
    That new grace

    Glow plain and foreign
    On my homesick eye,
    Except that you, than he
    Shone closer by.

    They'd judge us — how?
    For you served Heaven, you know,
    Or sought to;
    I could not,
  • b6488641020has quoted3 years ago
    XII.
    IN VAIN.
    I CANNOT live with you,
    It would be life,
    And life is over there
    Behind the shelf

    The sexton keeps the key to,
    Putting up
  • b6488641020has quoted3 years ago
    THE OUTLET.
    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!
  • b6488641020has quoted3 years ago
    I taste a liquor never brewed,
    From tankards scooped in pearl;
    Not all the vats upon the Rhine
    Yield such an alcohol!

    Inebriate of air am I,
    And debauchee of dew,
    Reeling, through endless summer days,
    From inns of molten blue.

    When landlords turn the drunken bee
    Out of the foxglove's door,
    When butterflies renounce their drams,
    I shall but drink the more!

    Till seraphs swing their snowy hats,
    And saints to windows run,
    To see the little tippler
    Leaning against the sun!
  • b6488641020has quoted3 years ago
    VI.
    If I can stop one heart from breaking,
    I shall not live in vain;
    If I can ease one life the aching,
    Or cool one pain,
    Or help one fainting robin
    Unto his nest again,
    I shall not live in vain.
  • daphne151101has quoted7 years ago
    He ate and drank the precious words,
  • daphne151101has quoted7 years ago
    ]
    Success is counted sweetest
    By those who ne'er succeed.
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