It Was Too Late for Man, par Emily Dickinson

It Was Too Late for Man

623

It was too late for Man—

But early, yet, for God—

Creation—impotent to help—

But Prayer—remained—Our Side—

How excellent the Heaven—

When Earth—cannot be had—

How hospitable—then—the face

Of our Old Neighbor—God—

98 One dignity delays for all— One mitred Afternoon— None can avoid this purple— None evade this Crown!

405 It might be lonelier Without the Loneliness— I’m so accustomed to my Fate— Perhaps the Other—Peace—

776 The Color of a Queen, is this— The Color of a Sun At setting—this and Amber— Beryl—and this, at Noon—

78 A poor—torn heart—a tattered heart… That sat it down to rest— Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day Flowed silver to the West—

816 A Death blow is a Life blow to S… Who till they died, did not alive… Who had they lived, had died but w… They died, Vitality begun.

814 One Day is there of the Series Termed Thanksgiving Day. Celebrated part at Table Part in Memory.

I held a Jewel in my fingers’— And went to sleep’— The day was warm, and winds were p… I said 'Twill keep’— I woke’—and chid my honest fingers…

When Memory is full Put on the perfect Lid - This Morning’s finest syllable Presumptuous Evening said -

498 I envy Seas, whereon He rides— I envy Spokes of Wheels Of Chariots, that Him convey— I envy Crooked Hills

Epigram THIS is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,— The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty.

880 The Bird must sing to earn the Cr… What merit have the Tune No Breakfast if it guaranty The Rose content may bloom

845 Be Mine the Doom— Sufficient Fame— To perish in Her Hand!

207 Tho’ I get home how late’—how lat… So I get home - 'twill compensate… Better will be the Ecstasy That they have done expecting me’—

715 The World—feels Dusty When We stop to Die— We want the Dew—then— Honors—taste dry—

301 I reason, Earth is short— And Anguish—absolute— And many hurt, But, what of that?