Emily Dickinson

Take all away
The only thing worth larceny
Is left – the Immortality.
– poem written by Emily Dickinson

Take all away from me, but leave me Ecstasy,
And I am richer then than all my Fellow Men —
Ill it becometh me to dwell so wealthily
When at my very Door are those possessing more,
In abject poverty —
-Emily Dickinson

Taken from men — this morning —
Carried by men today —
Met by the Gods with banners —
Who marshalled her away —

One little maid — from playmates —
One little mind from school —
There must be guests in Eden —
All the rooms are full —

Far — as the East from Even —
Dim — as the border star —
Courtiers quaint, in Kingdoms
Our departed are.
– Emily Dickinson

Take your Heaven further on —
This — to Heaven divine Has gone —
Had You earlier blundered in
Possibly, e’en You had seen
An Eternity — put on —
Now — to ring a Door beyond
Is the utmost of Your Hand —
To the Skies — apologize —
Nearer to Your Courtesies
Than this Sufferer polite —
Dressed to meet You —
See — in White!
– Emily Dickinson

Talk not to me of Summer Trees
The foliage of the mind
A Tabernacle is for Birds
Of no corporeal kind
And winds do go that way at noon
To their Ethereal Homes
Whose Bugles call the least of us
To undepicted Realms
– Emily Dickinson

Talk with prudence to a Beggar
Of “Potose,” and the mines!
Reverently, to the Hungry
Of your viands, and your wines!

Cautious, hint to any Captive
You have passed enfranchised feet!
Anecdotes of air in Dungeons
Have sometimes proved deadly sweet!
– Emily Dickinson

Teach Him — When He makes the names —
Such an one — to say —
On his babbling — Berry — lips —
As should sound — to me —
Were my Ear — as near his nest —
As my thought — today —
As should sound —
“Forbid us not” —
Some like “Emily.”
– Emily Dickinson

Tell all the Truth but tell it slant —
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth’s superb surprise

As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind —
– Emily Dickinson

Tell as a Marksman — were forgotten
Tell — this Day endures
Ruddy as that coeval Apple
The Tradition bears —

Fresh as Mankind that humble story
Though a statelier Tale
Grown in the Repetition hoary
Scarcely would prevail —

Tell had a son — The ones that knew it
Need not linger here —
Those who did not to Human Nature
Will subscribe a Tear —

Tell would not bare his Head
In Presence
Of the Ducal Hat —
Threatened for that with

That Distance was between Us
That is not of Mile or Main —
The Will it is that situates —
Equator — never can —
-Emily Dickinson

That I did always love
I bring thee Proof
That till I loved
I never lived — Enough —

That I shall love alway —
I argue thee
That love is life —
And life hath Immortality —

This — dost thou doubt — Sweet —
Then have I
Nothing to show
But Calvary —
-Emily Dickinson

That Love is all there is,
Is all we know of Love;
It is enough, the freight should be
Proportioned to the groove.
-Emily Dickinson

That after Horror — that ’twas us —
That passed the mouldering Pier —
Just as the Granite Crumb let go —
Our Savior, by a Hair —

A second more, had dropped too deep
For Fisherman to plumb —
The very profile of the Thought
Puts Recollection numb —

The possibility — to pass
Without a Moment’s Bell —
Into Conjecture’s presence —
Is like a Face of Steel —
That suddenly looks into ours
With a metallic grin —
The

That Such have died enable Us
The tranquiller to die —
That Such have lived,
Certificate for Immortality.
-Emily Dickinson

That first Day, when you praised Me, Sweet,
And said that I was strong —
And could be mighty, if I liked —
That Day — the Days among —

Glows Central — like a Jewel
Between Diverging Golds —
The Minor One — that gleamed behind —
And Vaster — of the World’s.
-Emily Dickinson

That is solemn we have ended
Be it but a Play
Or a Glee among the Garret
Or a Holiday

Or a leaving Home, or later,
Parting with a World
We have understood for better
Still to be explained.
-Emily Dickinson

That it will never come again
Is what makes life so sweet.
Believing what we don’t believe
Does not exhilarate.

That if it be, it be at best
An ablative estate —
This instigates an appetite
Precisely opposite.
-Emily Dickinson

That odd old man is dead a year —
We miss his stated Hat.
‘Twas such an evening bright and stiff
His faded lamp went out.

Who miss his antiquated Wick —
Are any hoar for him?
Waits any indurated mate
His wrinkled coming Home?

Oh Life, begun in fluent Blood
And consummated dull!
Achievement contemplating thee —
Feels transitive and cool.
-Emily Dickinson

That sacred Closet when you sweep —
Entitled “Memory” —
Select a reverential Broom —
And do it silently.

‘Twill be a Labor of surprise —
Besides Identity
Of other Interlocutors
A probability —

August the Dust of that Domain —
Unchallenged — let it lie —
You cannot supersede itself
But it can silence you —
-Emily Dickinson

That she forgot me was the least
I felt it second pain
That I was worthy to forget
Was most I thought upon.

Faithful was all that I could boast
But Constancy became
To her, by her innominate,
A something like a shame.
-Emily Dickinson

That short — potential stir
That each can make but once —
That Bustle so illustrious
‘Tis almost Consequence —

Is the eclat of Death —
Oh, thou unknown Renown
That not a Beggar would accept
Had he the power to spurn —
-Emily Dickinson

That this should feel the need of Death
The same as those that lived
Is such a Feat of Irony
As never was — achieved —

Not satisfied to ape the Great
In his simplicity
The small must die, as well as He —
Oh the Audacity —
-Emily Dickinson

The Admirations — and Contempts — of time —
Show justest — through an Open Tomb —
The Dying — as it were a Height
Reorganizes Estimate
And what We saw not
We distinguish clear —
And mostly — see not
What We saw before —

‘Tis Compound Vision —
Light — enabling Light —
The Finite — furnished
With the Infinite —
Convex — and Concave Witness —
Back — toward Time —
And forward —
Toward the God of Him —