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Emily Dickinson

STEP lightly on this narrow spot

STEP lightly on this narrow spot!
The broadest land that grows
Is not so ample as the breast
These emerald seams enclose.
 
Step lofty; for this name is told
As far as cannon dwell,
Or flag subsist, or fame export
Her deathless syllable.

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Otras obras de Emily Dickinson...
It Ceased to Hurt Me, Though So Slow

584 It ceased to hurt me, though so sl… I could not feel the Anguish go— But only knew by looking back— That something—had benumbed the T…
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She Lay as If at Play

369 She lay as if at play Her life had leaped away— Intending to return— But not so soon—
Chartless

I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet now I know how the heather lo… And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God,
Only a Shrine, But Mine

918 Only a Shrine, but Mine— I made the Taper shine— Madonna dim, to whom all Feet may… Regard a Nun—
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She Died at Play

75 She died at play, Gambolled away Her lease of spotted hours, Then sank as gaily as a Turn
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The Brain—is wider than the Sky—

632 The Brain—is wider than the Sky— For—put them side by side— The one the other will contain With ease—and You—beside—
Her Grace is all she has—

810 Her Grace is all she has— And that, so least displays— One Art to recognize, must be, Another Art, to praise.
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From the Chrysalis

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
1129 - Tell all the Truth but tell it slant

Tell all the Truth but tell it sl… Success in Circuit lies Too bright for our infirm Delight The Truth’s superb surprise As Lightning to the Children ease…
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I reckon—when I count it all—

569 I reckon—when I count it all— First—Poets—Then the Sun— Then Summer—Then the Heaven of G… And then—the List is done—
That I Did Always Love

549 That I did always love I bring thee Proof That till I loved I never lived—Enough—
Could I But Ride Indefinite

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

815 The Luxury to apprehend The Luxury 'twould be To look at Thee a single time An Epicure of Me
This Consciousness That Is Aware

822 This Consciousness that is aware Of Neighbors and the Sun Will be the one aware of Death And that itself alone
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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—



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