Poems by Emily Dickinson
No Prisoner be --
... No Prisoner be -- ...
No Rack can torture me
... There knits a bolder One --You cannot prick with saw -- ...
No Romance sold unto
... 'Tis Fiction's -- When 'tis small enough ...
None can experience sting
... Except for Fact of Corn --Want -- is a meagre Art ...
None who saw it ever told it
... Had for that specific treasure ...
Noon -- is the Hinge of Day --
... Morning -- the East compelling the sill ...
Nor Mountain hinder Me
... Nor Sea -- Who's Baltic -- ...
Not "Revelation" -- 'tis -- that waits,
... Not "Revelation" -- 'tis -- that waits, But our unfurnished eyes -- ...
Not all die early, dying young --
... In Ages, or a Night --A Hoary Boy, I've known to drop ...
Not any higher stands the Grave
... Than numb Three Score and Ten --This latest Leisure equal lulls ...
Not any more to be lacked --
... Notwithstanding Despair --Of the Ones that pursued it ...
Not any sunny tone
... Toward human nature's home -- ...
Not at Home to Callers
... Bonnet due in April -- ...
Not in this World to see his face
... Clasped yet -- to Him -- and Me --And yet -- My Primer suits me so ...
Not knowing when the Dawn will come,
... Not knowing when the Dawn will come, ...
