Emily Dickinson

When we have ceased to care
The Gift is given
For which we gave the Earth
And mortgaged Heaven
But so declined in worth
‘Tis ignominy now
To look upon –
-Emily Dickinson

Where I have lost, I softer tread —
I sow sweet flower from garden bed —
I pause above that vanished head
And mourn.

Whom I have lost, I pious guard
From accent harsh, or ruthless word —
Feeling as if their pillow heard,
Though stone!

When I have lost, you’ll know by this —
A Bonnet black — A dusk surplice —
A little tremor in my voice Like this!

Why, I have lost, the people know
Who dressed in

Where Roses would not dare to go,
What Heart would risk the way —
And so I send my Crimson Scouts
To sound the Enemy —
-Emily Dickinson

Where Ships of Purple — gently toss —
On Seas of Daffodil —
Fantastic Sailors — mingle —
And then — the Wharf is still!
-Emily Dickinson

Where Thou art — that — is Home —
Cashmere — or Calvary — the same —
Degree — or Shame —
I scarce esteem Location’s Name —
So I may Come —

What Thou dost — is Delight —
Bondage as Play — be sweet —
Imprisonment — Content —
And Sentence — Sacrament —
Just We two — meet —

Where Thou art not — is Woe —
Tho’ Bands of Spices — row —
What Thou dost not

Where bells no more affright the morn —
Where scrabble never comes —
Where very nimble Gentlemen
Are forced to keep their rooms —

Where tired Children placid sleep
Thro’ Centuries of noon
This place is Bliss — this town is Heaven —
Please, Pater, pretty soon!

“Oh could we climb where Moses stood,
And view the Landscape o’er”
Not Father’s bells — nor Factories,
Could scare us any more!
-Emily Dickinson

Where every bird is bold to go
And bees abashless play,
The foreigner before he knocks
Must thrust the tears away.
-Emily Dickinson

Whether my bark went down at sea —
Whether she met with gales —
Whether to isles enchanted
She bent her docile sails —

By what mystic mooring
She is held today —
This is the errand of the eye
Out upon the Bay.
-Emily Dickinson

Whether they have forgotten
Or are forgetting now
Or never remembered —
Safer not to know —

Miseries of conjecture
Are a softer woe
Than a Fact of Iron
Hardened with I know —
-Emily Dickinson

Which is best?  Heaven —
Or only Heaven to come
With that old Codicil of Doubt?
I cannot help esteem

The “Bird within the Hand”
Superior to the one
The “Bush” may yield me
Or may not
Too late to choose again.
-Emily Dickinson

Which is the best — the Moon or the Crescent?
Neither — said the Moon —
That is best which is not — Achieve it —
You efface the Sheen.

Not of detention is Fruition —
Shudder to attain.
Transport’s decomposition follows —
He is Prism born.
-Emily Dickinson

Which misses most,
The hand that tends,
Or heart so gently borne,
‘Tis twice as heavy as it was
Because the hand is gone?

Which blesses most,
The lip that can,
Or that that went to sleep

With “if I could” endeavoring
Without the strength to shape?
-Emily Dickinson

While Asters —
On the Hill —
Their Everlasting fashions — set —
And Covenant Gentians — Frill!
-Emily Dickinson

While it is alive
Until Death touches it
While it and I lap one Air
Dwell in one Blood
Under one Sacrament
Show me Division can split or pare —

Love is like Life — merely longer
Love is like Death, during the Grave
Love is the Fellow of the Resurrection
Scooping up the Dust and chanting “Live”!
-Emily Dickinson

While we were fearing it, it came —
But came with less of fear
Because that fearing it so long
Had almost made it fair —

There is a Fitting — a Dismay —
A Fitting — a Despair
‘Tis harder knowing it is Due
Than knowing it is Here.

They Trying on the Utmost
The Morning it is new
Is Terribler than wearing it
A whole existence through.
-Emily Dickinson

White as an Indian Pipe
Red as a Cardinal Flower
Fabulous as a Moon at Noon
February Hour —
-Emily Dickinson

Who Court obtain within Himself
Sees every Man a King —
And Poverty of Monarchy
Is an interior thing —

No Man depose
Whom Fate Ordain —
And Who can add a Crown
To Him who doth continual
Conspire against His Own
-Emily Dickinson

Who Giants know, with lesser Men
Are incomplete, and shy —
For Greatness, that is ill at ease
In minor Company —

A Smaller, could not be perturbed —
The Summer Gnat displays —
Unconscious that his single Fleet
Do not comprise the skies —
-Emily Dickinson

Who abdicated Ambush
And went the way of Dusk,
And now against his subtle Name
There stands an Asterisk
As confident of him as we —
Impregnable we are —
The whole of Immortality
Secreted in a Star.
-Emily Dickinson

Whoever disenchants
A single Human soul
By failure of irreverence
Is guilty of the whole.

As guileless as a Bird
As graphic as a star
Till the suggestion sinister
Things are not what they are —
-Emily Dickinson

Who goes to dine must take his Feast
Or find the Banquet mean —
The Table is not laid without
Till it is laid within.

For Pattern is the Mind bestowed
That imitating her
Our most ignoble Services
Exhibit worthier.
-Emily Dickinson

Who has not found the Heaven — below —
Will fail of it above —
For Angels rent the House next ours,
Wherever we remove —
-Emily Dickinson

Who is it seeks my Pillow Nights —
With plain inspecting face —
“Did you” or “Did you not,” to ask —
‘Tis “Conscience” — Childhood’s Nurse —

With Martial Hand she strokes the Hair
Upon my wincing Head —
“All” Rogues “shall have their part in” what —
The Phosphorous of God —
-Emily Dickinson

Who is the East?
The Yellow Man
Who may be Purple if He can
That carries in the Sun.

Who is the West?
The Purple Man
Who may be Yellow if He can
That lets Him out again.
-Emily Dickinson

Whole Gulfs — of Red, and Fleets — of Red —
And Crews — of solid Blood —
Did place upon the West — Tonight —
As ’twere specific Ground —

And They — appointed Creatures —
In Authorized Arrays —
Due — promptly — as a Drama —
That bows — and disappears —
-Emily Dickinson