Poem - The farthest thunder that I heard By Emily Dickinson

The farthest thunder that I heard:

The farthest thunder that I heard   
  Was nearer than the sky,   
And rumbles still, though torrid noons   
  Have lain their missiles by.

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Poem - If recollecting were forgetting By Emily Dickinson

If recollecting were forgetting:

If recollecting were forgetting,   
  Then I remember not;   
And if forgetting, recollecting,   
  How near I had forgot!   
And if to miss were merry,            5
  And if to mourn were gay,   
How very blithe the fingers   
  That gathered these to-day!

Poem - The reticent volcano keeps By Emily Dickinson

The reticent volcano keeps:

The reticent volcano keeps   
  His never slumbering plan;   
Confided are his projects pink   
  To no precarious man. 

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Poem - I felt a cleavage in my mind By Emily Dickinson

I felt a cleavage in my mind:

I felt a cleavage in my mind   
  As if my brain had split;   
I tried to match it, seam by seam,   
  But could not make them fit.  

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Poem - Upon the gallows hung a wretch By Emily Dickinson

Upon the gallows hung a wretch:

Upon the gallows hung a wretch,   
  Too sullied for the hell   
To which the law entitled him.   
  As nature’s curtain fell   
The one who bore him tottered in,            5
  For this was woman’s son.   
“’T was all I had,” she stricken gasped;   
  Oh, what a livid boon!

Poem - Few get enough,—enough is one By Emily Dickinson

Few get enough,—enough is one:

Few get enough,—enough is one;   
  To that ethereal throng   
Have not each one of us the right   
  To stealthily belong?

Poem - From all the jails the boys and girls By Emily Dickinson

From all the jails the boys and girls:

From all the jails the boys and girls   
  Ecstatically leap,—   
Beloved, only afternoon   
  That prison does n’t keep.

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Poem - I had a guinea golden By Emily Dickinson

I had a guinea golden:

I had a guinea golden;   
  I lost it in the sand,   
And though the sum was simple,   
  And pounds were in the land,   
Still had it such a value                        
  Unto my frugal eye,   
That when I could not find it   
  I sat me down to sigh.

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Poem - A face devoid of love or grace By Emily Dickinson

A face devoid of love or grace:

A face devoid of love or grace,   
A hateful, hard, successful face,   
  A face with which a stone   
Would feel as thoroughly at ease   
As were they old acquaintances,—            5
  First time together thrown.

Poem - Who has not found the heaven below By Emily Dickinson

Who has not found the heaven below:

Who has not found the heaven below   
  Will fail of it above.   
God’s residence is next to mine,   
  His furniture is love.

Poem - There is no frigate like a book By Emily Dickinson

There is no frigate like a book:

There is no frigate like a book   
  To take us lands away,   
Nor any coursers like a page   
  Of prancing poetry.

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Poem - While I was fearing it, it came By Emily Dickinson

While I was fearing it, it came:

While I was fearing it, it came,   
  But came with less of fear,   
Because that fearing it so long   
  Had almost made it dear.

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Poem - We never know how high we are By Emily Dickinson

We never know how high we are:

We never know how high we are   
  Till we are called to rise;   
And then, if we are true to plan,   
  Our statures touch the skies. 

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Poem - My life closed twice before its close By Emily Dickinson

My life closed twice before its close:

My life closed twice before its close   
  It yet remains to see   
If Immortality unveil   
  A third event to me

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Poem - Could mortal lip divine By Emily Dickinson

Could mortal lip divine:

Could mortal lip divine   
  The undeveloped freight   
Of a delivered syllable,   
  ’T would crumble with the weight.

Poem - If the foolish call them “flowers” By Emily Dickinson

If the foolish call them “flowers”:

If the foolish call them “flowers”,   
  Need the wiser tell?   
If the savants “classify” them,   
  It is just as well!

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Poem - How still the bells in steeples stand By Emily Dickinson

How still the bells in steeples stand:

How still the bells in steeples stand.   
  Till, swollen with the sky,   
They leap upon their silver feet   
  In frantic melody!

Poem - Drowning is not so pitiful By Emily Dickinson

Drowning is not so pitiful:

Drowning is not so pitiful   
  As the attempt to rise.   
Three times, ’t is said, a sinking man   
  Comes up to face the skies,   
And then declines forever          
  To that abhorred abode

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Poem - It’s such a little thing to weep By Emily Dickinson

It’s such a little thing to weep:

It’s such a little thing to weep,   
  So short a thing to sigh;   
And yet by trades the size of these   
  We men and women die!

Poem - To venerate the simple days By Emily Dickinson

To venerate the simple days:

To venerate the simple days   
Which lead the seasons by,   
Needs but to remember   
  That from you or me   
They may take the trifle                       
  Termed mortality!

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Poem - A word is dead By Emily Dickinson

A word is dead:

A word is dead   
When it is said,   
  Some say.   
I say it just   
Begins to live            5
  That day.

Poem - Heaven is what I cannot reach By Emily Dickinson

Heaven is what I cannot reach:

Heaven is what I cannot reach!   
  The apple on the tree,   
Provided it do hopeless hang,   
  That “heaven” is, to me.   
 
The color on the cruising cloud,            5
  The interdicted ground   
Behind the hill, the house behind,—   
  There Paradise is found!

Poem - Forbidden fruit a flavor has By Emily Dickinson

Forbidden fruit a flavor has:

Forbidden fruit a flavor has   
  That lawful orchards mocks;   
How luscious lies the pea within   
  The pod that Duty locks!

Poem - Hope is a subtle glutton By Emily Dickinson

Hope is a subtle glutton:

Hope is a subtle glutton;   
  He feeds upon the fair;   
And yet, inspected closely,   
  What abstinence is there!   
 
His is the halcyon table                5
  That never seats but one,   
And whatsoever is consumed   
  The same amounts remain.   

Poem - Superiority to fate By Emily Dickinson

Superiority to fate:

Superiority to fate   
  Is difficult to learn.   
’T is not conferred by any,   
  But possible to earn   
 
A pittance at a time,                     5
  Until, to her surprise,   
The soul with strict economy   
  Subsists till Paradise.

Poem - ’T is little I could care for pearls By Emily Dickinson

’T is little I could care for pearls:

’T is little I could care for pearls   
  Who own the ample sea;   
Or brooches, when the Emperor   
  With rubies pelteth me;   
 
Or gold, who am the Prince of Mines;            5
  Or diamonds, when I see   
A diadem to fit a dome   
  Continual crowning me.

Poem - Just lost when I was saved By Emily Dickinson

Just lost when I was saved:

Just lost when I was saved!   
Just felt the world go by!   
Just girt me for the onset with eternity,   
When breath blew back,   
And on the other side                                       
I heard recede the disappointed tide! 

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Poem - Musicians wrestle everywhere By Emily Dickinson

Musicians wrestle everywhere:

Musicians wrestle everywhere:   
All day, among the crowded air,   
  I hear the silver strife;   
And—waking long before the dawn—   
Such transport breaks upon the town       
  I think it that “new life!”

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Poem - I know that he exists By Emily Dickinson

I know that he exists:

I know that he exists   
Somewhere, in silence.   
He has hid his rare life   
From our gross eyes.

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Poem - Prayer is the little implement By Emily Dickinson

Prayer is the little implement:

Prayer is the little implement   
Through which men reach   
Where presence is denied them.   
They fling their speech   
 
By means of it in God’s ear;            5
If then He hear,   
This sums the apparatus   
Comprised in prayer.