Poeticous Logo
es
English Español Français Italiano
Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

Victory Comes Late

690
 
Victory comes late—
And is held low to freezing lips—
Too rapt with frost
To take it—
How sweet it would have tasted—
Just a Drop—
Was God so economical?
His Table’s spread too high for Us—
Unless We dine on tiptoe—
Crumbs—fit such little mouths—
Cherries—suit Robbins—
The Eagle’s Golden Breakfast strangles—Them—
God keep His Oath to Sparrows—
Who of little Love—know how to starve—

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury

¿Disfrutate esta lectura? ¡invítanos a un café!.
Tu ayuda nos permite existir.
Otras obras de Emily Dickinson...
Sweet—You forgot—but I remembered

523 Sweet—You forgot—but I remembered Every time—for Two— So that the Sum be never hindered Through Decay of You—
 1
I Took my Power in my Hand

540 I took my Power in my Hand— And went against the World— ’Twas not so much as David—had— But I—was twice as bold—
The Judge Is Like the Owl

699 The Judge is like the Owl— I’ve heard my Father tell— And Owls do build in Oaks— So here’s an Amber Sill—
 1
Life CXI. a door just opened on a street (953)

CXI A DOOR just opened on a street— I, lost, was passing by— An instant’s width of warmth discl… And wealth, and company.
 1
Good to Hide, and Hear 'Em Hunt!

842 Good to hide, and hear 'em hunt! Better, to be found, If one care to, that is, The Fox fits the Hound—
Kill your Balm—and its Odors bless you—

238 Kill your Balm—and its Odors bles… Bare your Jessamine—to the storm— And she will fling her maddest per… Haply—your Summer night to Charm—
 1
Morns like these—we parted—

27 Morns like these—we parted— Noons like these—she rose— Fluttering first—then firmer To her fair repose.
Crumbling Is Not an Instant’s Act

997 Crumbling is not an instant’s Act A fundamental pause Dilapidation’s processes Are organized Decays.
By the Sea

I started early, took my dog, And visited the sea; The mermaids in the basement Came out to look at me. And frigates in the upper floor
161 a feather from the Whippoorwill

A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting—sings! Whose galleries—are Sunrise— Whose Opera—the Springs— Whose Emerald Nest the Ages spin
 1
Good Morning—midnight

425 Good Morning—Midnight— I’m coming Home— Day—got tired of Me— How could I—of Him?
Heart, Not So Heavy as Mine

83 Heart, not so heavy as mine Wending late home— As it passed my window Whistled itself a tune—
After Great Pain, a Formal Feeling Comes

After great pain, a formal feeling… The Nerves sit ceremonious, like… The stiff Heart questions was it… And Yesterday, or Centuries befor… The Feet, mechanical, go round—
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—
If Your Nerve, Deny You

292 If your Nerve, deny you— Go above your Nerve— He can lean against the Grave, If he fear to swerve—
 1



Arriba