An everywhere of silver, With ropes of sand To keep it from effacing The track called land.
The Sea Of Sunset. By Emily Dickinson
This is the land the sunset washes, These are the banks of the Yellow Sea; Where it rose, or whither it rushes, These are the western mystery! Night…
The Robin. By Emily Dickinson
The robin is the one That interrupts the morn With hurried, few, express reports When March is scarcely on. The robin is the one That overflows the noon With her…
The Return. By Emily Dickinson
Though I get home how late, how late! So I get home, ‘t will compensate. Better will be the ecstasy That they have done expecting me, When, night descending,…
The Rat. By Emily Dickinson
The rat is the concisest tenant. He pays no rent, — Repudiates the obligation, On schemes intent. Balking our wit To sound or circumvent, Hate cannot harm A foe so reticent….
The Railway Train. By Emily Dickinson
I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of…
The Preacher. By Emily Dickinson
He preached upon “breadth” till it argued him narrow, — The broad are too broad to define; And of “truth” until it proclaimed him a liar, — The…
The Past. By Emily Dickinson
The past is such a curious creature, To look her in the face A transport may reward us, Or a disgrace. Unarmed if any meet her, I charge him,…
The Outlet. By Emily Dickinson
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…
The Oriole. By Emily Dickinson
One of the ones that Midas touched, Who failed to touch us all, Was that confiding prodigal, The blissful oriole. So drunk, he disavows it With badinage divine; So dazzling,…