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Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

It Is an Honorable Thought,

It is an honorable thought,
  And makes one lift one’s hat,
As one encountered gentlefolk
  Upon a daily street,
 
That we’ve immortal place,
  Though pyramids decay,
And kingdoms, like the orchard,
  Flit russetly away.

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Other works by Emily Dickinson...
Glee—The great storm is over—

619 Glee—The great storm is over— Four—have recovered the Land— Forty gone down together— Into the boiling Sand.
My Period Had Come for Prayer

564 My period had come for Prayer— No other Art—would do— My Tactics missed a rudiment— Creator—Was it you?
The Birds Begun at Four O’Clock

783 The Birds begun at Four o’clock— Their period for Dawn— A Music numerous as space— But neighboring as Noon—
 2
The Starry Night, by Vincent van Gogh
Life CXXVI. The brain is wider than the sky (632)

THE Brain—is wider than the sky— For—put them side by side— The one the other will include With ease—and you—beside— The Brain is deeper than the sea—
 2
Through lane it lay—through bramble—

9 Through lane it lay—through brambl… Through clearing and through wood— Banditti often passed us Upon the lonely road.
When Katie Walks, This Simple Pair Accompany Her Side

222 When Katie walks, this simple pai… When Katie runs unwearied they fo… When Katie kneels, their loving h… Ah! Katie! Smile at Fortune, wit…
Exultation Is the Going

76 Exultation is the going Of an inland soul to sea, Past the houses—past the headlands… Into deep Eternity—
I Ment to Find Her When I Came;

I meant to find her when I came; Death had the same design; But the success was his, it seems, And the discomfit mine. I meant to tell her how I longed
Death Is a Dialogue Between

976 Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. “Dissolve” says Death—The Spirit… I have another Trust”—
’Twas comfort in her Dying Room

’Twas comfort in her Dying Room To hear the living Clock— A short relief to have the wind Walk boldly up and knock— Diversion from the Dying Theme
A Loss of Something Ever Felt I

959 A loss of something ever felt I— The first that I could recollect Bereft I was—of what I knew not Too young that any should suspect
He Fumbles at Your Spirit

He fumbles at your spirit As players at the keys Before they drop full music on; He stuns you by degrees, Prepares your brittle substance
 2
A little bread—a crust—a crumb—

159 A little bread—a crust—a crumb— A little trust—a demijohn— Can keep the soul alive— Not portly, mind! but breathing—wa…
Distrustful of the Gentian

20 Distrustful of the Gentian— And just to turn away, The fluttering of her fringes Child my perfidy—
 1
Water, Is Taught by Thirst

135 Water, is taught by thirst. Land—by the Oceans passed. Transport—by throe— Peace—by its battles told—
 1



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