Poems by Emily Dickinson
To her derided Home
... As Lady from her Bower --Of Bliss the Codes are few -- ...
To his simplicity
... To die -- was little Fate -- ...
To interrupt His Yellow Plan
... And even when the SnowHeaves Balls of Specks, like Vicious Boy ...
To learn the Transport by the Pain
... That Brooks in Meadows run!To stay the homesick -- homesick feet ...
To lose one's faith -- surpass
... Replenished -- faith cannot --Inherited with Life -- ...
To love thee Year by Year
... However, dear, Forever might be short, I thought to show -- ...
To make One's Toilette -- after Death
... Is difficult, and still --That's easier -- than Braid the Hair -- ...
To my quick ear the Leaves -- conferred --
... From Nature's sentinels --In Cave if I presumed to hide ...
To my small Hearth His fire came --
... 'Twas Sunrise -- 'twas the Sky --Impanelled from no Summer brief -- ...
To offer brave assistance
... Is Human -- but DivineTo lend an Ample Sinew ...
To One denied the drink
... Remind Him, would it not, somewhat ...
To own a Susan of my own
... Whatever Realm I forfeit, Lord, ...
To own the Art within the Soul
... And Festival maintainIs an unfurnished Circumstance ...
To pile like Thunder to its close
... This -- would be Poetry --Or Love -- the two coeval come -- ...
To put this World down, like a Bundle --
... Strong Clusters, from Barabbas' Tomb --Sacrament, Saints partook before us -- ...
