This Is my Letter to the World,, by Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

This Is my Letter to the World,

This is my letter to the world,

That never wrote to me,-

The simple news that Nature told,

With tender majesty

Her message is committed

To hands I cannot see;

For love of her, sweet countrymen,

Judge tenderly of me!

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury

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679 Conscious am I in my Chamber, Of a shapeless friend— He doth not attest by Posture— Nor Confirm—by Word—

Life LXXXVIII. Heaven is what I cannot reach! (239)

LXXXVIII HEAVEN is what I cannot reach! The apple on the tree, Provided it do hopeless hang, That “heaven” is, to me.

The Sunrise Runs for Both

710 The Sunrise runs for Both— The East—Her Purple Troth Keeps with the Hill— The Noon unwinds Her Blue

The Mountain Sat Upon the Plain

975 The Mountain sat upon the Plain In his tremendous Chair— His observation omnifold, His inquest, everywhere—

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She sweeps with many-colored broom… And leaves the shreds behind; Oh, housewife in the evening west, Come back, and dust the pond! You dropped a purple ravelling in,

They Leave Us With the Infinite

350 They leave us with the Infinite. But He—is not a man— His fingers are the size of fists— His fists, the size of men—

Severer Service of Myself

786 Severer Service of myself I—hastened to demand To fill the awful Vacuum Your life had left behind—

Life XXVI. the brain within its groove (556)

XXVI THE brain within its groove Runs evenly and true; But let a splinter swerve, ’T were easier for you

Partake as Doth the Bee

994 Partake as doth the Bee, Abstemiously. The Rose is an Estate— In Sicily.

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I went to heaven,— ‘T was a small town, Lit with a ruby, Lathed with down. Stiller than the fields

Where Thou art—that—is Home

725 Where Thou art—that—is Home— Cashmere—or Calvary—the same— Degree—or Shame— I scarce esteem Location’s Name—

I Robbed the Woods

41 I robbed the Woods— The trusting Woods. The unsuspecting Trees Brought out their Burs and mosses

I’Ve Heard an Organ Talk, Sometimes

183 I’ve heard an Organ talk, sometim… In a Cathedral Aisle, And understood no word it said— Yet held my breath, the while—

Nature LXXIII: I ’LL tell you how the sun rose

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The Loneliness One Dare Not Sound

777 The Loneliness One dare not sound… And would as soon surmise As in its Grave go plumbing To ascertain the size—

Emily Dickinson