The Poets Light But Lamps par Emily Dickinson 883 The Poets light but Lamps— Themselves—go out— The Wicks they stimulate— If vital Light
From Us She Wandered Now a Year par Emily Dickinson 890 From Us She wandered now a Year, Her tarrying, unknown, If Wilderness prevent her feet Or that Ethereal Zone
The Woodpecker par Emily Dickinson His bill an auger is, His head, a cap and frill. He laboreth at every tree,— A worm his utmost goal.
Of All the Souls That Stand Create par Emily Dickinson Of all the souls that stand create I have elected one. When sense from spirit files away, And subterfuge is done; When that which is and that which
Elysium Is as Far as To par Emily Dickinson Elysium is as far as to The very nearest Room If in that Room a Friend await Felicity or Doom— What fortitude the Soul contains
She Lay as If at Play par Emily Dickinson 369 She lay as if at play Her life had leaped away— Intending to return— But not so soon—
A little bread—a crust—a crumb— par Emily Dickinson 159 A little bread—a crust—a crumb— A little trust—a demijohn— Can keep the soul alive— Not portly, mind! but breathing—wa
A Moth the Hue of This par Emily Dickinson 841 A Moth the hue of this Haunts Candles in Brazil. Nature’s Experience would make Our Reddest Second pale.
Our Little Kinsmen’—after Rain par Emily Dickinson 885 Our little Kinsmen’—after Rain In plenty may be seen, A Pink and Pulpy multitude The tepid Ground upon.
Time XL. I Never lost as much but twice (49) par Emily Dickinson I NEVER lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod; Twice have I stood a beggar Before the door of God! Angels, twice descending,
