Poems begining by T
/ page 895 of 916 /
The Lady feeds Her little Bird
© Emily Dickinson
The Lady feeds Her little Bird
At rarer intervals --
The little Bird would not dissent
But meekly recognize
The Juggler's Hat her Country is
© Emily Dickinson
The Juggler's Hat her Country is --
The Mountain Gorse -- the Bee's!
The Judge is like the Owl --
© Emily Dickinson
The Judge is like the Owl --
I've heard my Father tell --
And Owls do build in Oaks --
So here's an Amber Sill --
The joy that has no stem no core,
© Emily Dickinson
The joy that has no stem no core,
Nor seed that we can sow,
Is edible to longing.
But ablative to show.
The Jay his Castanet has struck
© Emily Dickinson
The Jay his Castanet has struck
Put on your muff for Winter
The Tippet that ignores his voice
Is impudent to nature
The inundation of the Spring
© Emily Dickinson
The inundation of the Spring
Enlarges every soul --
It sweeps the tenement away
But leaves the Water whole --
The Infinite a sudden Guest
© Emily Dickinson
The Infinite a sudden Guest
Has been assumed to be --
But how can that stupendous come
Which never went away?
The incidents of love
© Emily Dickinson
The incidents of love
Are more than its Events --
Investment's best Expositor
Is the minute Per Cents --
The immortality she gave
© Emily Dickinson
The immortality she gave
We borrowed at her Grave --
For just one Plaudit famishing,
The Might of Human love --
The Hollows round His eager Eyes
© Emily Dickinson
The Hollows round His eager Eyes
Were Pages where to read
Pathetic Histories -- although
Himself had not complained.
The Himmaleh was known to stoop
© Emily Dickinson
The Himmaleh was known to stoop
Unto the Daisy low --
Transported with Compassion
That such a Doll should grow
Where Tent by Tent -- Her Universe
Hung out its Flags of Snow --
The Hills in Purple syllables
© Emily Dickinson
The Hills in Purple syllables
The Day's Adventures tell
To little Groups of Continents
Just going Home from School.
The Hills erect their Purple Heads
© Emily Dickinson
The Hills erect their Purple Heads
The Rivers lean to see
Yet Man has not of all the Throng
A Curiosity.
The Heaven vests for Each
© Emily Dickinson
The Heaven vests for Each
In that small Deity
It craved the grace to worship
Some bashful Summer's Day --
The Heart is the Capital of the Mind --
© Emily Dickinson
The Heart is the Capital of the Mind --
The Mind is a single State --
The Heart and the Mind together make
A single Continent --
The Heart has narrow Banks
© Emily Dickinson
The Heart has narrow Banks
It measures like the Sea
In mighty -- unremitting Bass
And Blue Monotony
The Heart has many Doors --
© Emily Dickinson
The Heart has many Doors --
I can but knock --
For any sweet "Come in"
Impelled to hark --
The harm of Years is on him --
© Emily Dickinson
The harm of Years is on him --
The infamy of Time --
Depose him like a Fashion
And give Dominion room.
The hallowing of Pain
© Emily Dickinson
The hallowing of Pain
Like hallowing of Heaven,
Obtains at a corporeal cost --
The Summit is not given
The grave my little cottage is,
© Emily Dickinson
The grave my little cottage is,
Where "Keeping house" for thee
I make my parlor orderly
And lay the marble tea.
