He found my Being—set it up—, par Emily Dickinson

He found my Being—set it up—

603

He found my Being—set it up—

Adjusted it to place—

Then carved his name—upon it—

And bade it to the East

Be faithful—in his absence—

And he would come again—

With Equipage of Amber—

That time—to take it Home—

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122 A something in a summer’s Day As slow her flambeaux burn away Which solemnizes me. A something in a summer’s noon—

678 Wolfe demanded during dying “Which obtain the Day”? “General, the British”—"Easy” Answered Wolfe “to die”

III SOUL, wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost, indeed, But tens have won an all.

109 By a flower—By a letter— By a nimble love— If I weld the Rivet faster— Final fast—above—

699 The Judge is like the Owl— I’ve heard my Father tell— And Owls do build in Oaks— So here’s an Amber Sill—

930 There is a June when Corn is cut And Roses in the Seed— A Summer briefer than the first But tenderer indeed

841 A Moth the hue of this Haunts Candles in Brazil. Nature’s Experience would make Our Reddest Second pale.

104 Where I have lost, I softer tread… I sow sweet flower from garden bed… I pause above that vanished head And mourn.

111 The Bee is not afraid of me. I know the Butterfly. The pretty people in the Woods Receive me cordially—

We play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool. The shapes, though, were similar,

876 It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone Enclosed ’twas not of Rail A Consciousness its Acre, and It held a Human Soul.

Publication—is the Auction Of the Mind of Man— Poverty—be justifying For so foul a thing Possibly—but We—would rather

586 We talked as Girls do— Fond, and late— We speculated fair, on every subje… Of ours, none affair—

The earth has many keys, Where melody is not Is the unknown peninsula. Beauty is nature’s fact. But witness for her land,

194 On this long storm the Rainbow ro… On this late Morn—the Sun— The clouds—like listless Elephant… Horizons—straggled down—