I Asked No Other Thing, par Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

I Asked No Other Thing

621

I asked no other thing—

No other—was denied—

I offered Being—for it—

The Mighty Merchant sneered—

Brazil? He twirled a Button—

Without a glance my way—

“But—Madam—is there nothing else—

That We can show—Today?”

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625 ’Twas a long Parting—but the time For Interview—had Come— Before the Judgment Seat of God— The last—and second time

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I dreaded that first robin so, But he is mastered now, And I’m accustomed to him grown,— He hurts a little, though. I thought if I could only live

The Tint I Cannot Take—is Best

627 The Tint I cannot take—is best— The Color too remote That I could show it in Bazaar— A Guinea at a sight—

A House Upon the Height

399 A House upon the Height— That Wagon never reached— No Dead, were ever carried down— No Peddler’s Cart—approached—

I Cannot Be Ashamed

914 I cannot be ashamed Because I cannot see The love you offer— Magnitude

The Skies Can’T Keep Their Secret!

191 The Skies can’t keep their secret… They tell it to the Hills— The Hills just tell the Orchards— And they—the Daffodils!

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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 mountains,

The Night Was Wide, and Furnished Scant

589 The Night was wide, and furnished… With but a single Star— That often as a Cloud it met— Blew out itself—for fear—

I’m sorry for the Dead—Today—

529 I’m sorry for the Dead—Today— It’s such congenial times Old Neighbors have at fences— It’s time o’ year for Hay.

A Word dropped careless on a Page

A Word dropped careless on a Page May stimulate an eye When folded in perpetual seam The Wrinkled Maker lie Infection in the sentence breeds

Angels, in the Early Morning

94 Angels, in the early morning May be seen the Dews among, Stooping—plucking—smiling&m da… Do the Buds to them belong?

A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink

566 A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand—

Blazing in Gold and Quenching in Purple

228 Blazing in Gold and quenching in… Leaping like Leopards to the Sky Then at the feet of the old Horiz… Laying her spotted Face to die

Emily Dickinson