Part Five: The Single Hound, by Emily Dickinson

Part Five: The Single Hound

THE LARGEST fire ever known

Occurs each afternoon,

Discovered is without surprise,

Proceeds without concern:

Consumes, and no report to men,

An Occidental town,

Rebuilt another morning

To be again burned down.

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661 Could I but ride indefinite As doth the Meadow Bee And visit only where I liked And No one visit me

A drop fell on the apple tree Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A few went out to help the brook,

A drop fell on the apple tree, Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A few went out to help the brook,

CXI A DOOR just opened on a street— I, lost, was passing by— An instant’s width of warmth discl… And wealth, and company.

Wild Nights! Wild Nights! Were I with thee, Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile the winds

1000 The Fingers of the Light Tapped soft upon the Town With “I am great and cannot wait So therefore let me in.”

696 Their Height in Heaven comforts n… Their Glory—nought to me— ’Twas best imperfect—as it was— I’m finite—I can’t see—

936 This Dust, and its Feature— Accredited—Today—Will in a s… Cease to identify— This Mind, and its measure—

One need not be a chamber to be ha… One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place. Far safer, of a midnight meeting

541 Some such Butterfly be seen On Brazilian Pampas— Just at noon—no later—Sweet— Then—the License closes—

Like trains of cars on tracks of p… I hear the level bee: A jar across the flowers goes, Their velvet masonry Withstands until the sweet assault

788 Joy to have merited the Pain— To merit the Release— Joy to have perished every step— To Compass Paradise—

503 Better—than Music! For I—who hea… I was used—to the Birds—before— This—was different—’Twas Translat… Of all tunes I knew—and more—

MY cocoon tightens, colors tease, I 'm feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be

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