Time poems
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I think to Live -- may be a Bliss
© Emily Dickinson
I think to Live -- may be a Bliss
To those who dare to try --
Beyond my limit to conceive --
My lip -- to testify --
I think the longest Hour of all
© Emily Dickinson
I think the longest Hour of all
Is when the Cars have come --
And we are waiting for the Coach --
It seems as though the Time
I suppose the time will come
© Emily Dickinson
I suppose the time will come
Aid it in the coming
When the Bird will crowd the Tree
And the Bee be booming.
I should have been too glad, I see
© Emily Dickinson
I should have been too glad, I see --
Too lifted -- for the scant degree
Of Life's penurious Round --
My little Circuit would have shamed
This new Circumference -- have blamed --
The homelier time behind.
I shall know why -- when Time is over
© Emily Dickinson
I shall know why -- when Time is over --
And I have ceased to wonder why --
Christ will explain each separate anguish
In the fair schoolroom of the sky --
I saw that the Flake was on it
© Emily Dickinson
I saw that the Flake was on it
But plotted with Time to dispute --
"Unchanged" I urged with a candor
That cost me my honest Heart --
I prayed, at first, a little Girl,
© Emily Dickinson
I prayed, at first, a little Girl,
Because they told me to --
But stopped, when qualified to guess
How prayer would feel -- to me --
I meant to find Her when I came --
© Emily Dickinson
I meant to find Her when I came --
Death -- had the same design --
But the Success -- was His -- it seems --
And the Surrender -- Mine --
I live with Him -- I see His face
© Emily Dickinson
I live with Him -- I see His face --
I go no more away
For Visitor -- or Sundown --
Death's single privacy
I heard, as if I had no Ear
© Emily Dickinson
I heard, as if I had no Ear
Until a Vital Word
Came all the way from Life to me
And then I knew I heard.
I had the Glory -- that will do
© Emily Dickinson
I had the Glory -- that will do --
An Honor, Thought can turn her to
When lesser Fames invite --
With one long "Nay" --
I had no time to Hate
© Emily Dickinson
I had no time to Hate --
Because
The Grave would hinder Me --
And Life was not so
Ample I
Could finish -- Enmity --
How destitute is he
© Emily Dickinson
How destitute is he
Whose Gold is firm
Who finds it every time
The small stale Sum --
He outstripped Time with but a Bout,
© Emily Dickinson
He outstripped Time with but a Bout,
He outstripped Stars and Sun
And then, unjaded, challenged God
In presence of the Throne.
He found my Being -- set it up --
© Emily Dickinson
He found my Being -- set it up --
Adjusted it to place --
Then carved his name -- upon it --
And bade it to the East
From Us She wandered now a Year,
© Emily Dickinson
From Us She wandered now a Year,
Her tarrying, unknown,
If Wilderness prevent her feet
Or that Ethereal Zone
Forever -- it composed of Nows --
© Emily Dickinson
Forever -- it composed of Nows --
'Tis not a different time --
Except for Infiniteness --
And Latitude of Home --
Fitter to see Him, I may be
© Emily Dickinson
Fitter to see Him, I may be
For the long Hindrance -- Grace -- to Me --
With Summers, and with Winters, grow,
Some passing Year -- A trait bestow
Down Time's quaint stream
© Emily Dickinson
Down Time's quaint stream
Without an oar
We are enforced to sail
Our Port a secret
Did we disobey Him?
© Emily Dickinson
Did we disobey Him?
Just one time!
Charged us to forget Him --
But we couldn't learn!
