The Spirit Is the Conscious Ear, par Emily Dickinson

The Spirit Is the Conscious Ear

733

The Spirit is the Conscious Ear.

We actually Hear

When We inspect—that’s audible—

That is admitted—Here—

For other Services—as Sound—

There hangs a smaller Ear

Outside the Castle—that Contain—

The other—only—Hear—

624 Forever—it composed of Nows— ’Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home—

156 You love me—you are sure— I shall not fear mistake— I shall not cheated wake— Some grinning morn—

204 I’ll tell you how the Sun rose— A Ribbon at a time— The Steeples swam in Amethyst— The news, like Squirrels, ran—

862 Light is sufficient to itself— If Others want to see It can be had on Window Panes Some Hours in the Day.

Are Friends Delight or Pain? Could Bounty but remain Riches were good - But if they only stay Ampler to fly away

Exhilaration is the Breeze That lifts us from the Ground And leaves us in another place Whose statement is not found - Returns us not, but after time

963 A nearness to Tremendousness— An Agony procures— Affliction ranges Boundlessness— Vicinity to Laws

202 My Eye is fuller than my vase— Her Cargo—is of Dew— And still—my Heart—my Eye outweig… East India—for you!

The Butterfly upon the Sky, That doesn’t know its Name And hasn’t any tax to pay And hasn’t any Home Is just as high as you and I,

The wind tapped like a tired man, And like a host, ‘Come in,’ I boldly answered; entered then My residence within A rapid, footless guest,

Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,

855 To own the Art within the Soul The Soul to entertain With Silence as a Company And Festival maintain

Part One: Life LII VICTORY comes late, And is held low to freezing lips Too rapt with frost

802 Time feels so vast that were it no… For an Eternity— I fear me this Circumference Engross my Finity—

75 She died at play, Gambolled away Her lease of spotted hours, Then sank as gaily as a Turn