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Emily Dickinson

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—

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury

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Altre opere di Emily Dickinson...
924 Love—is that later Thing than Death

Love—is that later Thing than Dea… More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself— Tastes Death—the first—to hand th…
 1
We Like March, His Shoes Are Purple,

We like March, his shoes are purp… He is new and high; Makes he mud for dog and peddler, Makes he forest dry; Knows the adder’s tongue his comin…
341 After great pain a formal feeling comes

After great pain a formal feeling… The nerves sit ceremonious like to… The stiff Heart questions—was it… And yesterday—or centuries before? The feet, mechanical, go round
 1
 3
My Reward for Being, Was This

343 My Reward for Being, was This. My premium—My Bliss— An Admiralty, less— A Sceptre—penniless—
The Robin Is the One

828 The Robin is the One That interrupt the Morn With hurried—few—express Reports When March is scarcely on—
He Who in Himself Believes

969 He who in Himself believes— Fraud cannot presume— Faith is Constancy’s Result— And assumes—from Home—
We pray—to Heaven—

489 We pray—to Heaven— We prate—of Heaven— Relate—when Neighbors die— At what o’clock to heaven—they fle…
A Shade Upon the Mind There Passes

882 A Shade upon the mind there passe… As when on Noon A Cloud the mighty Sun encloses Remembering
 1
His Bill an Auger Is

1034 His Bill an Auger is, His Head, a Cap and Frill. He laboreth at every Tree A Worm, His utmost Goal.
The Soul’s Distinct Connection

974 The Soul’s distinct connection With immortality Is best disclosed by Danger Or quick Calamity—
The Judge Is Like the Owl

699 The Judge is like the Owl— I’ve heard my Father tell— And Owls do build in Oaks— So here’s an Amber Sill—
 1
Myself Was Formed’€”a Carpenter

488 Myself was formed’—a Carpenter’— An unpretending time My Plane’—and I, together wrought Before a Builder came’—
Within my Reach!

90 Within my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered thro’ the village—
Deprived of Other Banquet

773 Deprived of other Banquet, I entertained Myself— At first—a scant nutrition— An insufficient Loaf—
How Lonesome the Wind Must Feel Nights

How lonesome the Wind must feel N… When people have put out the Ligh… And everything that has an Inn Closes the shutter and goes in— How pompous the Wind must feel No…



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