There Is an Arid Pleasure, by Emily Dickinson

There Is an Arid Pleasure

782

There is an arid Pleasure—

As different from Joy—

As Frost is different from Dew—

Like element—are they—

Yet one—rejoices Flowers—

And one—the Flowers abhor—

The finest Honey—curdled—

Is worthless—to the Bee—

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442 God made a little Gentian— It tried—to be a Rose— And failed—and all the Summer lau… But just before the Snows

138 Pigmy seraphs—gone astray— Velvet people from Vevay— Balles from some lost summer day— Bees exclusive Coterie—

Who were “the Father and the Son” We pondered when a child, And what had they to do with us And when portentous told With inference appalling

A Cloud withdrew from the Sky Superior Glory be But that Cloud and its Auxiliarie… Are forever lost to me Had I but further scanned

Between My Country—and the Other… There is a Sea— But Flowers—negotiate between us— As Ministry.

474 They put Us far apart— As separate as Sea And Her unsown Peninsula— We signified “These see”—

112 Where bells no more affright the m… Where scrabble never comes— Where very nimble Gentlemen Are forced to keep their rooms—

Nature the gentlest mother is, Impatient of no child, The feeblest of the waywardest. Her admonition mild In forest and the hill

769 One and One—are One— Two—be finished using— Well enough for schools— But for minor Choosing—

743 The Birds reported from the South… A News express to Me— A spicy Charge, My little Posts— But I am deaf—Today—

396 There is a Languor of the Life More imminent than Pain— ’Tis Pain’s Successor—When the S… Has suffered all it can—

XVIII READ, sweet, how others strove, Till we are stouter; What they renounced, Till we are less afraid;

832 Soto! Explore thyself! Therein thyself shalt find The “Undiscovered Continent”— No Settler had the Mind.

I cannot live with You— It would be Life— And Life is over there— Behind the Shelf The Sexton keeps the Key to—

147 Bless God, he went as soldiers, His musket on his breast— Grant God, he charge the bravest Of all the martial blest!