My country need not change her gown, Her triple suit as sweet As when’t was cut at Lexington, And first pronounced “a fit.” Great Britain disapproves “the stars;” Disparagement discreet, — There’s something in their attitude That taunts her bayonet.
Mother Nature. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Nature, the gentlest mother, Impatient of no child, The feeblest or the waywardest, — Her admonition mild In forest and the hill By traveller is heard, Restraining rampant squirrel Or too…
Morns Like These We Parted; By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Morns like these we parted; Noons like these she rose, Fluttering first, then firmer, To her fair repose. Never did she lisp it, And ‘t was not for me; She…
Morning Is The Place For Dew, By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Morning is the place for dew, Corn is made at noon, After dinner light for flowers, Dukes for setting sun!
Mine. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
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…
Memorials. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Death sets a thing significant The eye had hurried by, Except a perished creature Entreat us tenderly To ponder little workmanships In crayon or in wool, With “This was last…
Melodies Unheard. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Musicians wrestle everywhere: All day, among the crowded air, I hear the silver strife; And — waking long before the dawn — Such transport breaks upon the town I think…
Me! Come! My Dazzled Face By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Me! Come! My dazzled face In such a shining place! Me! Hear! My foreign ear The sounds of welcome near! The saints shall meet Our bashful feet. My…
May-Flower. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss, Known by the knoll, Next to the robin In every human soul. Bold little beauty, Bedecked…
March. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
We like March, his shoes are purple, He is new and high; Makes he mud for dog and peddler, Makes he forest dry; Knows the adder’s tongue his coming, And…