The Red—blaze—is the Morning, por Emily Dickinson

The Red—blaze—is the Morning

469

The Red—Blaze—is the Morning—

The Violet—is Noon—

The Yellow—Day—is falling—

And after that—is none—

But Miles of Sparks—at Evening—

Reveal the Width that burned—

The Territory Argent—that

Never yet—consumed—

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—

March is the Month of Expectation… The things we do not know - The Persons of prognostication Are coming now - We try to show becoming firmness -

491 While it is alive Until Death touches it While it and I lap one Air Dwell in one Blood

A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting—sings! Whose galleries—are Sunrise— Whose Opera—the Springs— Whose Emerald Nest the Ages spin

800 Two—were immortal twice— The privilege of few— Eternity—obtained—in Time— Reversed Divinity’—

Years I had been from home, And now, before the door I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine

XLIV THE show is not the show, But they that go. Menagerie to me My neighbor be.

264 A Weight with Needles on the poun… To push, and pierce, besides— That if the Flesh resist the Heft… The puncture—coolly tries—

His bill an auger is, His head, a cap and frill. He laboreth at every tree,— A worm his utmost goal.

Not with a club, the Heart is bro… Nor with a stone; A whip, so small you could not see… I’ve known To lash the magic creature

153 Dust is the only Secret— Death, the only One You cannot find out all about In his “native town.”

588 I cried at Pity—not at Pain— I heard a Woman say “Poor Child”—and something in her… Convicted me—of me—

Drowning is not so pitiful As the attempt to rise. Three times, 't is said, a sinking… Comes up to face the skies, And then declines forever

66 So from the mould Scarlet and Gold Many a Bulb will rise— Hidden away, cunningly, From saga…

256 If I’m lost—now That I was found— Shall still my transport be— That once—on me—those Jasper Gate…