All Poems

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She bore it till the simple veins

© Emily Dickinson

She bore it till the simple veins
Traced azure on her hand --
Til pleading, round her quiet eyes
The purple Crayons stand.

Savior! I've no one else to tell

© Emily Dickinson

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

Rearrange a "Wife's" affection!

© Emily Dickinson

Rearrange a "Wife's" affection!
When they dislocate my Brain!
Amputate my freckled Bosom!
Make me bearded like a man!

Purple -- is fashionable twice --

© Emily Dickinson

Purple -- is fashionable twice --
This season of the year,
And when a soul perceives itself
To be an Emperor.

Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it,

Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it,
Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,Proud of my night, since thou with moons dost slake it,
Not to partake thy passion, my humility.Thou can'st not boast, like Jesus, drunken without companion
Was the strong cup of anguish brewed for the NazareneThou can'st not pierce tradition with the peerless puncture,

Prayer is the little implement

© Emily Dickinson

Prayer is the little implement
Through which Men reach
Where Presence -- is denied them.
They fling their Speech

Praise it -- 'tis dead --

© Emily Dickinson

Praise it -- 'tis dead --
It cannot glow --
Warm this inclement Ear
With the encomium it earned

Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower,

© Emily Dickinson

Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower,
But I could never sell --
If you would like to borrow,
Until the Daffodil

Perception of an object costs

© Emily Dickinson

Perception of an object costs
Precise the Object's loss --
Perception in itself a Gain
Replying to its Price --

Patience -- has a quiet Outer --

© Emily Dickinson

Patience -- has a quiet Outer --
Patience -- Look within --
Is an Insect's futile forces
Infinites -- between --

Partake as doth the Bee,

© Emily Dickinson

Partake as doth the Bee,
Abstemiously.
The Rose is an Estate --
In Sicily.

Over the fence

© Emily Dickinson

Over the fence --
Strawberries -- grow --
Over the fence --
I could climb -- if I tried, I know --
Berries are nice!

Our journey had advanced --

© Emily Dickinson

Our journey had advanced --
Our feet were almost come
To that odd Fork in Being's Road --
Eternity -- by Term --

One Year ago -- jots what?

© Emily Dickinson

One Year ago -- jots what?
God -- spell the word! I -- can't --
Was't Grace? Not that --
Was't Glory? That -- will do --
Spell slower -- Glory --

One Life of so much Consequence!

One Life of so much Consequence!
Yet I -- for it -- would pay --
My Soul's entire income --
In ceaseless -- salary --

On a Columnar Self --

On a Columnar Self --
How ample to rely
In Tumult -- or Extremity --
How good the Certainty

Of so divine a Loss

Of so divine a Loss
We enter but the Gain,
Indemnity for Loneliness
That such a Bliss has been.

Of Course -- I prayed

Of Course -- I prayed --
And did God Care?
He cared as much as on the Air
A Bird -- had stamped her foot --

Of Consciousness, her awful Mate

Of Consciousness, her awful Mate
The Soul cannot be rid --
As easy the secreting her
Behind the Eyes of God.

Now I lay thee down to Sleep --

Now I lay thee down to Sleep --
I pray the Lord thy Dust to keep --
And if thou live before thou wake --
I pray the Lord thy Soul to make --