Poems begining by I

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I am alive -- I guess

© Emily Dickinson

I am alive -- I guess --
The Branches on my Hand
Are full of Morning Glory --
And at my finger's end --

Is it too late to touch you, Dear?

© Emily Dickinson

Is it too late to touch you, Dear?
We this moment knew --
Love Marine and Love terrene --
Love celestial too --

I took my power in my hand

© Emily Dickinson

I took my power in my hand
And went AGAINST the world
'Twas not so much as David had
But I was twice as bold

I met a King this afternoon!

© Emily Dickinson

I met a King this afternoon!
He had not on a Crown indeed,
A little Palmleaf Hat was all,
And he was barefoot, I'm afraid!

I had a guinea golden

© Emily Dickinson

I had a crimson Robin --
Who sang full many a day
But when the woods were painted,
He, too, did fly away --

I dwell in Possibility --

© Emily Dickinson

I dwell in Possibility --
A fairer House than Prose --
More numerous of Windows --
Superior -- for Doors --

In this short Life

© Emily Dickinson

In this short Life
That only lasts an hour
How much -- how little -- is
Within our power

If this is "fading"

© Emily Dickinson

If this is "fading"
Oh let me immediately "fade"!
If this is "dying"
Bury me, in such a shroud of red!

I'm "wife" -- I've finished that

© Emily Dickinson

I'm "wife" -- I've finished that --
That other state --
I'm Czar -- I'm "Woman" now --
It's safer so --

I had been hungry, all the Years --

© Emily Dickinson

I had been hungry, all the Years --
My Noon had Come -- to dine --
I trembling drew the Table near --
And touched the Curious Wine --

I felt a Cleaving in my Mind --

© Emily Dickinson

I felt a Cleaving in my Mind --
As if my Brain had split --
I tried to match it -- Seam by Seam --
But could not make it fit.

I measure every Grief I meet

© Emily Dickinson

I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, Eyes --
I wonder if It weighs like Mine --
Or has an Easier size.

It's all I have to bring today

© Emily Dickinson

It's all I have to bring today --
This, and my heart beside --
This, and my heart, and all the fields --
And all the meadows wide --

I never told the buried gold

© Emily Dickinson

I never told the buried gold
Upon the hill -- that lies --
I saw the sun -- his plunder done
Crouch low to guard his prize.

It sifts from Leaden Sieves

It sifts from Leaden Sieves --
It powders all the Wood.
It fills with Alabaster Wool
The Wrinkles of the Road --

I robbed the Woods

I robbed the Woods --
The trusting Woods.
The unsuspecting Trees
Brought out their Burs and mosses

I never lost as much but twice

I never lost as much but twice,
And that was in the sod.
Twice have I stood a beggar
Before the door of God!

I dreaded that first Robin, so,

I dreaded that first Robin, so,
But He is mastered, now,
I'm accustomed to Him grown,
He hurts a little, though --

I'll tell you how the Sun rose

I'll tell you how the Sun rose --
A Ribbon at a time --
The Steeples swam in Amethyst --
The news, like Squirrels, ran --

If you were coming in the Fall,

If you were coming in the Fall,
I'd brush the Summer by
With half a smile, and half a spurn,
As Housewives do, a Fly.