All Poems
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How know it from a Summer's Day?
© Emily Dickinson
How know it from a Summer's Day?
Its Fervors are as firm --
And nothing in the Countenance
But scintillates the same --
How happy I was if I could forget
© Emily Dickinson
How happy I was if I could forget
To remember how sad I am
Would be an easy adversity
But the recollecting of Bloom
How good his Lava Bed,
© Emily Dickinson
How good his Lava Bed,
To this laborious Boy --
Who must be up to call the World
And dress the sleepy Day --
How fortunate the Grave --
© Emily Dickinson
How fortunate the Grave --
All Prizes to obtain --
Successful certain, if at last,
First Suitor not in vain.
How fleet -- how indiscreet an one --
© Emily Dickinson
How fleet -- how indiscreet an one --
How always wrong is Love --
The joyful little Deity
We are not scourged to serve --
How fits his Umber Coat
© Emily Dickinson
How fits his Umber Coat
The Tailor of the Nut?
Combined without a seam
Like Raiment of a Dream --
How firm Eternity must look
© Emily Dickinson
How firm Eternity must look
To crumbling men like me
The only Adamant Estate
In all Identity --
How far is it to Heaven?
© Emily Dickinson
How far is it to Heaven?
As far as Death this way --
Of River or of Ridge beyond
Was no discovery.
How destitute is he
© Emily Dickinson
How destitute is he
Whose Gold is firm
Who finds it every time
The small stale Sum --
How dare the robins sing,
© Emily Dickinson
How dare the robins sing,
When men and women hear
Who since they went to their account
Have settled with the year! --
Hope is a subtle Glutton --
© Emily Dickinson
Hope is a subtle Glutton --
He feeds upon the Fair --
And yet -- inspected closely
What Abstinence is there --
His voice decrepit was with Joy --
© Emily Dickinson
His voice decrepit was with Joy --
Her words did totter so
How old the News of Love must be
To make Lips elderly
His oriental heresies
© Emily Dickinson
His oriental heresies
Exhilarate the Bee,
And filling all the Earth and Air
With gay apostasy
His mind of man, a secret makes
© Emily Dickinson
His mind of man, a secret makes
I meet him with a start
He carries a circumference
In which I have no part --
His Mind like Fabrics of the East
© Emily Dickinson
His Mind like Fabrics of the East
Displayed to the despair
Of everyone but here and there
An humble Purchaser --
His Mansion in the Pool
© Emily Dickinson
His Mansion in the Pool
The Frog forsakes --
He rises on a Log
And statements makes --
His little Hearse like Figure
© Emily Dickinson
His little Hearse like Figure
Unto itself a Dirge
To a delusive Lilac
The vanity divulge
His Feet are shod with Gauze --
© Emily Dickinson
His Feet are shod with Gauze --
His Helmet, is of Gold,
His Breast, a Single Onyx
With Chrysophrase, inlaid.
His Cheek is his Biographer --
© Emily Dickinson
His Cheek is his Biographer --
As long as he can blush
Perdition is Opprobrium --
Past that, he sins in peace --
His Bill is clasped -- his Eye forsook --
© Emily Dickinson
His Bill is clasped -- his Eye forsook --
His Feathers wilted low --
The Claws that clung, like lifeless Gloves
Indifferent hanging now --
