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Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

It’s Easy to Invent a Life

724
 
It’s easy to invent a Life—
God does it—every Day—
Creation—but the Gambol
Of His Authority—
 
It’s easy to efface it—
The thrifty Deity
Could scarce afford Eternity
To Spontaneity—
 
The Perished Patterns murmur—
But His Perturbless Plan
Proceed—inserting Here—a Sun—
There—leaving out a Man—

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury

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Altre opere di Emily Dickinson...
Put Up my Lute!

261 Put up my lute! What of—my Music! Since the sole ear I cared to cha… Passive—as Granite—laps My Music…
 1
Robbed by Death—but that was easy—

971 Robbed by Death—but that was easy… To the failing Eye I could hold the latest Glowing— Robbed by Liberty
Nobody Knows This Little Rose

35 Nobody knows this little Rose— It might a pilgrim be Did I not take it from the ways And lift it up to thee.
 1
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…
Life XII. I asked no other thing (621)

XII I ASKED no other thing, No other was denied. I offered Being for it; The mighty merchant smiled.
Low at my Problem Bending

69 Low at my problem bending, Another problem comes— Larger than mine—Serener— Involving statelier sums.
 1
The Sunrise Runs for Both

710 The Sunrise runs for Both— The East—Her Purple Troth Keeps with the Hill— The Noon unwinds Her Blue
Of Bronze — and Blaze —

319 Of Bronze—and Blaze— The North—tonight— So adequate—it forms— So preconcerted with itself—
 1
They Say That 'Time Assuages,

They say that ‘time assuages,’— Time never did assuage; An actual suffering strengthens, As sinews do, with age. Time is a test of trouble,
 1
The Brain Within It’s Groove

The brain within its groove Runs evenly and true; But let a splinter swerve, ‘T were easier for you To put the water back
Faith

‘Faith’ is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see’— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency.
Did We Disobey Him?

267 Did we disobey Him? Just one time! Charged us to forget Him— But we couldn’t learn!
 1
Whether my Bark Went Down at Sea

52 Whether my bark went down at sea— Whether she met with gales— Whether to isles enchanted She bent her docile sails—
After a Hundred Years

After a hundred years Nobody knows the place,— Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged,
 1
It’s coming—the postponeless Creature—

390 It’s coming—the postponeless Crea… It gains the Block—and now—it gai… Chooses its latch, from all the ot… Enters—with a “You know Me—Sir”?



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