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!” * * * But how he set, I know not. There seemed a purple stile Which little yellow boys and girls Were climbing…
A Country Burial. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
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…
A Clock Stopped — Not The Mantel’s; By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
A Clock Stopped — Not The Mantel’s; Geneva’s farthest skill Can’t put the puppet bowing That just now dangled still. An awe came on the trinket! The figures hunched…
A Charm Invests A Face By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
A charm invests a face Imperfectly beheld, — The lady dare not lift her veil For fear it be dispelled. But peers beyond her mesh, And wishes, and denies,…
A Book. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
There is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry. This traverse may the poorest take Without oppress of…
A Book. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
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. He danced along the…
“Your Riches Taught Me Poverty.” By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Your riches taught me poverty. Myself a millionnaire In little wealths, — as girls could boast, — Till broad as Buenos Ayre, You drifted your dominions A different Peru; And…
“Who Robbed The Woods,” By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Who robbed the woods, The trusting woods? The unsuspecting trees Brought out their burrs and mosses His fantasy to please. He scanned their trinkets, curious, He grasped, he bore away. What will…
“Who Robbed The Woods,” By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Who robbed the woods, The trusting woods? The unsuspecting trees Brought out their burrs and mosses His fantasy to please. He scanned their trinkets, curious, He grasped, he bore away. What will…
“Whether My Bark Went Down At Sea,” By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Whether my bark went down at sea, Whether she met with gales, Whether to isles enchanted She bent her docile sails; By what mystic mooring She is held to-day,…