Perhaps I Asked Too Large, par Emily Dickinson

Perhaps I asked too large—

I take—no less than skies—

For Earths, grow thick as

Berries, in my native town—

My Basked holds—just—Firmaments—

Those—dangle easy—on my arm,

But smaller bundles—Cram.

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Autres oeuvres par Emily Dickinson...

If I can stop one heart from brea
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin

557
She hideth Her the last—
And is the first, to rise—
Her Night doth hardly recompense
The Closing of Her eyes—

778
This that would greet—an hour ago—
Is quaintest Distance—now—
Had it a Guest from Paradise—
Nor glow, would it, nor bow—

Too cold is this
To warm with Sun -
Too stiff to bended be,
To joint this Agate were a work -
Outstaring Masonry -

404
How many Flowers fail in Wood—
Or perish from the Hill—
Without the privilege to know
That they are Beautiful—

781
To wait an Hour’—is long’—
If Love be just beyond’—
To wait Eternity’—is short’—
If Love reward the end’—

12
The morns are meeker than they wer
The nuts are getting brown—
The berry’s cheek is plumper—
The Rose is out of town.

976
Death is a Dialogue between
The Spirit and the Dust.
“Dissolve” says Death—The Spirit
I have another Trust”—

779
The Service without Hope—
Is tenderest, I think—
Because ’tis unsustained
By stint—Rewarded Work—

‘And with what body do they come?’
Then they do come - Rejoice!
What Door– What Hour– Run– ru
Illuminate the House!
‘Body!’ Then real– a Face and E