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 Oct 2014
Emily Dickinson
1123

A great Hope fell
You heard no noise
The Ruin was within
Oh cunning wreck that told no tale
And let no Witness in

The mind was built for mighty Freight
For dread occasion planned
How often foundering at Sea
Ostensibly, on Land

A not admitting of the wound
Until it grew so wide
That all my Life had entered it
And there were troughs beside

A closing of the simple lid
That opened to the sun
Until the tender Carpenter
Perpetual nail it down—
 Oct 2014
Emily Dickinson
575

“Heaven” has different Signs—to me—
Sometimes, I think that Noon
Is but a symbol of the Place—
And when again, at Dawn,

A mighty look runs round the World
And settles in the Hills—
An Awe if it should be like that
Upon the Ignorance steals—

The Orchard, when the Sun is on—
The Triumph of the Birds
When they together Victory make—
Some Carnivals of Clouds—

The Rapture of a finished Day—
Returning to the West—
All these—remind us of the place
That Men call “paradise”—

Itself be fairer—we suppose—
But how Ourself, shall be
Adorned, for a Superior Grace—
Not yet, our eyes can see—
 Oct 2014
Emily Dickinson
479

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 ****** 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.
 Oct 2014
Emily Dickinson
1632

So give me back to Death—
The Death I never feared
Except that it deprived of thee—
And now, by Life deprived,
In my own Grave I breathe
And estimate its size—
Its size is all that Hell can guess—
And all that Heaven was—
 Oct 2014
Emily Dickinson
467

We do not play on Graves—
Because there isn’t Room—
Besides—it isn’t even—it slants
And People come—

And put a Flower on it—
And hang their faces so—
We’re fearing that their Hearts will drop—
And crush our pretty play—

And so we move as far
As Enemies—away—
Just looking round to see how far
It is—Occasionally—
 Oct 2014
Emily Dickinson
301

I reason, Earth is short—
And Anguish—absolute—
And many hurt,
But, what of that?

I reason, we could die—
The best Vitality
Cannot excel Decay,
But, what of that?

I reason, that in Heaven—
Somehow, it will be even—
Some new Equation, given—
But, what of that?
 Oct 2014
Emily Dickinson
1090

I am afraid to own a Body—
I am afraid to own a Soul—
Profound—precarious Property—
Possession, not optional—

Double Estate—entailed at pleasure
Upon an unsuspecting Heir—
Duke in a moment of Deathlessness
And God, for a Frontier.
 Oct 2014
Emily Dickinson
1654

Beauty crowds me till I die
Beauty mercy have on me
But if I expire today
Let it be in sight of thee—
 Oct 2014
Emily Dickinson
1026

The Dying need but little, Dear,
A Glass of Water’s all,
A Flower’s unobtrusive Face
To punctuate the Wall,

A Fan, perhaps, a Friend’s Regret
And Certainty that one
No color in the Rainbow
Perceive, when you are gone.
 Oct 2014
Emily Dickinson
593

I think I was enchanted
When first a sombre Girl—
I read that Foreign Lady—
The Dark—felt beautiful—

And whether it was noon at night—
Or only Heaven—at Noon—
For very Lunacy of Light
I had not power to tell—

The Bees—became as Butterflies—
The Butterflies—as Swans—
Approached—and spurned the narrow Grass—
And just the meanest Tunes

That Nature murmured to herself
To keep herself in Cheer—
I took for Giants—practising
Titanic Opera—

The Days—to Mighty Metres stept—
The Homeliest—adorned
As if unto a Jubilee
’Twere suddenly confirmed—

I could not have defined the change—
Conversion of the Mind
Like Sanctifying in the Soul—
Is witnessed—not explained—

’Twas a Divine Insanity—
The Danger to be Sane
Should I again experience—
’Tis Antidote to turn—

To Tomes of solid Witchcraft—
Magicians be asleep—
But Magic—hath an Element
Like Deity—to keep—
 Oct 2014
Emily Dickinson
1680

Sometimes with the Heart
Seldom with the Soul
Scarcer once with the Might
Few—love at all.

— The End —