Poems by Emily Dickinson
Is it too late to touch you, Dear?
... Is it too late to touch you, Dear ...
Jesus! thy Crucifix
... The smaller size!Jesus! thy second face ...
My friend must be a Bird
... My friend must be a Bird -- ...
My River runs to thee
... Oh Sea -- look graciously -- ...
Our lives are Swiss
... And we look farther on!Italy stands the other side! ...
Sexton! My Master's sleeping here.
... And sow the Early seed --That when the snow creeps slowly ...
The earth has many keys,
... The cricket is her utmost ...
The Heart asks Pleasure -- first --
... That deaden suffering --And then -- to go to sleep -- ...
The rainbow never tells me
... My flowers turn from Forums -- ...
The saddest noise, the sweetest noise,
... The birds, they make it in the spring, ...
The Soul's Superior instants
... Have infinite withdrawn --Or She -- Herself -- ascended ...
There is no Frigate like a Book
... This Traverse may the poorest take ...
There's something quieter than sleep
... Back to her native wood!While simple-hearted neighbors ...
They might not need me -- yet they might --
... They might not need me -- yet they might -- ...
To fight aloud, is very brave
... Regards with patriot love --We trust, in plumed procession ...
