When I Count the Seeds, di Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

When I Count the Seeds

When I count the seeds

That are sown beneath,

To bloom so, bye and bye—

When I con the people

Lain so low,

To be received as high—

When I believe the garden

Mortal shall not see—

Pick by faith its blossom

And avoid its Bee,

I can spare this summer, unreluctantly.

#Americans #Women #XIXCentury

Ti è piaciuta questa lettura? Offriteci un caffè!.
Il tuo aiuto ci permette di esistere.

Piaciuto o affrontato da...

Altre opere di Emily Dickinson...

A Mien to Move a Queen

283 A Mien to move a Queen— Half Child—Half Heroine— An Orleans in the Eye That puts its manner by

A Something in a Summer’s Day

122 A something in a summer’s Day As slow her flambeaux burn away Which solemnizes me. A something in a summer’s noon—

Escaping Backward to Perceive

867 Escaping backward to perceive The Sea upon our place— Escaping forward, to confront His glittering Embrace—

A solemn thing—it was—I said—

271 A solemn thing—it was—I said— A woman—white—to be— And wear—if God should count me f… Her blameless mystery—

It’s All I Have to Bring Today

26 It’s all I have to bring today— This, and my heart beside— This, and my heart, and all the fi… And all the meadows wide—

I Fear a Man of Frugal Speech

543 I fear a Man of frugal Speech— I fear a Silent Man— Haranguer—I can overtake— Or Babbler—entertain—

Savior! I’Ve No One Else to Tell

217 Savior! I’ve no one else to tell— And so I trouble thee. I am the one forgot thee so— Dost thou remember me?

I Cannot Live With You (No. 640)

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

Glory is that bright tragic thing

Glory is that bright tragic thing That for an instant Means Dominion - Warms some poor name That never felt the Sun,

Chartless

I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet now I know how the heather lo… And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God,

Over the Fence

251 Over the fence— Strawberries—grow— Over the fence— I could climb—if I tried, I know—

Woodpecker, The

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

How Happy I Was If I Could Forget

898 How happy I was if I could forget To remember how sad I am Would be an easy adversity But the recollecting of Bloom

Crumbling Is Not an Instant’s Act

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

One Crucifixion is recorded—only

553 One Crucifixion is recorded—only— How many be Is not affirmed of Mathematics— Or History—

Emily Dickinson