Chargement...
fr
English Español Français Italiano

Emily Dickinson

The Martyr Poets’€”did Not Tell

544
 
The Martyr Poets’—did not tell’—
But wrought their Pang in syllable’—
That when their mortal name be numb’—
Their mortal fate’—encourage Some’—
 
The Martyr Painters’—never spoke’—
Bequeathing’—rather’—to their Work’—
That when their conscious fingers cease’—
Some seek in Art’—the Art of Peace’—

#AmericanWriters

Autres oeuvres par Emily Dickinson...
A Little Dog That Wags His Tail

A little Dog that wags his tail And knows no other joy Of such a little Dog am I Reminded by a Boy Who gambols all the living Day
 1
The Woodpecker

His bill an auger is, His head, a cap and frill. He laboreth at every tree,— A worm his utmost goal.
 1
I Could Not Drink It, Sweet

818 I could not drink it, Sweet, Till You had tasted first, Though cooler than the Water was The Thoughtfullness of Thirst.
 1
The Difference Between Despair

305 The difference between Despair And Fear—is like the One Between the instant of a Wreck And when the Wreck has been—
This Chasm, Sweet, Upon my Life

858 This Chasm, Sweet, upon my life I mention it to you, When Sunrise through a fissure dr… The Day must follow too.
 1
The First Day’s Night Had Come

410 The first Day’s Night had come— And grateful that a thing So terrible—had been endured— I told my Soul to sing—
Twice Had Summer Her Fair Verdure

846 Twice had Summer her fair Verdure Proffered to the Plain— Twice a Winter’s silver Fracture On the Rivers been—
The Sun kept setting—setting—still

The Sun kept setting—setting—stil… No Hue of Afternoon— Upon the Village I perceived From House to House ’twas Noon— The Dusk kept dropping—dropping—s…
Of so divine a Loss

Of so divine a Loss We enter but the Gain, Indemnity for Loneliness That such a Bliss has been.
“Nature” Is What We See

668 “Nature” is what we see— The Hill—the Afternoon— Squirrel—Eclipse—the Bumble bee— Nay—Nature is Heaven—
 1
Life LIV. Experiment to me (1073)

Part One: Life LIV EXPERIMENT to me Is every one I meet. If it contain a kernel?
(204) a slash of Blue

A slash of Blue— A sweep of Gray— Some scarlet patches on the way, Compose an Evening Sky— A little purple—slipped between—
 3
Love—thou art high—

453 Love—thou art high— I cannot climb thee— But, were it Two— Who know but we—
September’s Baccalaureate

September’s Baccalaureate A combination is Of Crickets– Crows– and Retros… And a dissembling Breeze That hints without assuming -
 1
The Drop, That Wrestles in the Sea

284 The Drop, that wrestles in the Se… Forgets her own locality— As I—toward Thee— She knows herself an incense small…



Top