I Robbed the Woods, di Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

I Robbed the Woods

I robbed the Woods—

The trusting Woods.

The unsuspecting Trees

Brought out their Burs and mosses

My fantasy to please.

I scanned their trinkets curious—I grasped—I bore away—

What will the solemn Hemlock—

What will the Oak tree say?

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Altre opere di Emily Dickinson...

Love Reckons by Itself’alone

826 Love reckons by itself—alone— “As large as I”—relate the Sun To One who never felt it blaze— Itself is all the like it has—

Luck is not chance

Luck is not chance It’s Toil Fortune’s expensive smile Is earned The Father of the Mine

We Outgrow Love, Like Other Things

887 We outgrow love, like other things And put it in the Drawer— Till it an Antique fashion shows— Like Costumes Grandsires wore.

So Has a Daisy Vanished

28 So has a Daisy vanished From the fields today— So tiptoed many a slipper To Paradise away—

Proud of my Broken Heart

Proud of my broken heart, since th… Proud of the pain, I did not feel… Proud of my night, since thou, wit… Not to partake thy passion, –my hu… Thou can’st not boast, like Jesus…

Sweet’you Forgot’but I Remembered

523 Sweet — You forgot — but I rememb… Every time — for Two — So that the Sum be never hindered Through Decay of You —

The Wind didn’t come from the Orchard—today

316 The Wind didn’t come from the Orc… Further than that— Nor stop to play with the Hay— Nor joggle a Hat—

I Am Alive—I Guess

470 I am alive—I guess— The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory— And at my finger’s end—

Life LV. my country need not change her gown

LV MY country need not change her go… Her triple suit as sweet As when ’t was cut at Lexington, And first pronounced “a fit.”

As Watchers Hang Upon the East

121 As Watchers hang upon the East, As Beggars revel at a feast By savory Fancy spread— As brooks in deserts babble sweet

Truth — is as old as God —

836 Truth — is as old as God — His Twin identity And will endure as long as He A Co-Eternity —

I Could Not Drink It, Sweet

818 I could not drink it, Sweet, Till You had tasted first, Though cooler than the Water was The Thoughtfullness of Thirst.

You Know That Portrait in the Moon

504 You know that Portrait in the Moo… So tell me who ’tis like— The very Brow—the stooping eyes— A fog for—Say—Whose Sake?

Some Keep the Sabbath Going to Church

Some keep the Sabbath going to Ch… I keep it, staying at Home— With a Bobolink for a Chorister— And an Orchard, for a Dome— Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice…

Through the Strait Pass of Suffering

792 Through the strait pass of sufferi… The Martyrs—even—trod. Their feet—upon Temptations— Their faces—upon God—

Emily Dickinson

I Robbed the Woods

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