Emily Dickinson

If this is “fading”
Oh let me immediately “fade”!
If this is “dying”
Bury me, in such a shroud of red!
If this is “sleep,”
On such a night
How proud to shut the eye!
Good Evening, gentle Fellow men!
Peacock presumes to die!
-Emily Dickinson

If those I loved were lost
The Crier’s voice would tell me –
If those I loved were found
The bells of Ghent would ring –

Did those I loved repose
The Daisy would impel me.
Philip – when bewildered
Bore his riddle in!
-Emily Dickinson

If wrecked upon the Shoal of Thought
How is it with the Sea?
The only Vessel that is shunned
Is safe – Simplicity –
-Emily Dickinson

If your Nerve, deny you —
Go above your Nerve —
He can lean against the Grave,
If he fear to swerve —

That’s a steady posture —
Never any bend
Held of those Brass arms —
Best Giant made —

If your Soul seesaw —
Lift the Flesh door —
The Poltroon wants Oxygen —
Nothing more —
-Emily Dickinson

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.

If I could see you in a year,
I’d wind the months in balls —
And put them each in separate Drawers,
For fear the numbers fuse —

If only Centuries, delayed,
I’d count them on my Hand,
Subtracting, till my fingers dropped
Into Van Dieman’s Land.

If certain, when this life was out —
That yours

Image of Light, Adieu —
Thanks for the interview —
So long — so short —
Preceptor of the whole —
Coeval Cardinal —
Impart — Depart —
-Emily Dickinson

Immortal is an ample word
When what we need is by
But when it leaves us for a time
‘Tis a necessity.

Of Heaven above the firmest proof
We fundamental know
Except for its marauding Hand
It had been Heaven below.
– Emily Dickinson

Immured in Heaven!
What a Cell!
Let every Bondage be,
Thou sweetest of the Universe,
Like that which ravished thee!
-Emily Dickinson

Impossibility, like Wine
Exhilarates the Man
Who tastes it; Possibility
Is flavorless – Combine

A Chance’s faintest Tincture
And in the former Dram
Enchantment makes ingredient
As certainly as Doom –
– Emily Dickinson

In Ebon Box, when years have flown
To reverently peer,
Wiping away the velvet dust
Summers have sprinkled there!

To hold a letter to the light —
Grown Tawny now, with time —
To con the faded syllables
That quickened us like Wine!

Perhaps a Flower’s shrivelled check
Among its stores to find —
Plucked far away, some morning —
By gallant — mouldering hand!

A curl, perhaps, from foreheads
Our Constancy forgot —
Perhaps, an Antique trinket —
In vanished fashions set!

And

In lands I never saw — they say
Immortal Alps look down —
Whose Bonnets touch the firmament —
Whose Sandals touch the town —

Meek at whose everlasting feet
A Myriad Daisy play —
Which, Sir, are you and which am I
Upon an August day?
-Emily Dickinson

In many and reportless places
We feel a Joy —
Reportless, also, but sincere as Nature
Or Deity —

It comes, without a consternation —
Dissolves — the same —
But leaves a sumptuous Destitution —
Without a Name —

Profane it by a search — we cannot
It has no home —
Nor we who having once inhaled it —
Thereafter roam.
-Emily Dickinson

In rags mysterious as these
The shining Courtiers go –
Veiling the purple, and the plumes –
Veiling the ermine so.

Smiling, as they request an alms –
At some imposing door!
Smiling when we walk barefoot
Upon their golden floor!
-Emily Dickinson

In snow thou comest –
Thou shalt go with the resuming ground,
The sweet derision of the crow,
And Glee’s advancing sound.

In fear thou comest –
Thou shalt go at such a gait of joy
That man anew embark to live
Upon the depth of thee.

-Emily Dickinson

In this short Life
That only lasts an hour
How much — how little — is
Within our power
– Emily Dickinson

In thy long Paradise of Light
No moment will there be
When I shall long for Earthly Play
And mortal Company –
– Emily Dickinson

In Winter in my Room
I came upon a Worm —
Pink, lank and warm —
But as he was a worm
And worms presume
Not quite with him at home —
Secured him by a string
To something neighboring
And went along.

A Trifle afterward
A thing occurred
I’d not believe it if I heard
But state with creeping blood —
A snake with mottles rare
Surveyed my chamber floor
In feature as the worm before
But ringed with power —

The very string with

Is Bliss then, such Abyss,
I must not put my foot amiss
For fear I spoil my shoe?

I’d rather suit my foot
Than save my Boot —
For yet to buy another Pair
Is possible,
At any store —

But Bliss, is sold just once.
The Patent lost
None buy it any more —
Say, Foot, decide the point —
The Lady cross, or not?
Verdict for Boot!
– Emily Dickinson

Is Heaven a Physician?
They say that He can heal —
But Medicine Posthumous
Is unavailable —
Is Heaven an Exchequer?
They speak of what we owe —
But that negotiation
I’m not a Party to —
– Emily Dickinson

Is Immortality a bane
That men are so oppressed?
– Emily Dickinson

Is it dead — Find it —
Out of sound — Out of sight —
“Happy”? Which is wiser —
You, or the Wind?
“Conscious”? Won’t you ask that —
Of the low Ground?

“Homesick”? Many met it —
Even through them — This
Cannot testify —
Themself — as dumb —

– Emily Dickinson

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