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Those who have not found the heaven below, will fail of it above.

Emily Dickinson

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Emily Dickinson
Age: 55 †
Born: 1830
Born: December 10
Died: 1886
Died: May 15
Poet
Writer
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Ai-mi-li Ti-chin-sen
Emilia Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
Fail
Failing
Heaven
Found

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I took one Draught of Life - I'll tell you what I paid - Precisely an existence - The market price, they said.
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Spring is the Period Express from God.
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I stepped from Plank to Plank A slow and cautious way
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LOOK back on time with kindly eyes, He doubtless did his best How softly sinks his trembling sun In human nature's west!
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Opinion is a fitting thing but truth outlasts the sun - if then we cannot own them both, possess the oldest one.
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It is finished, is never said of us
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Nature is what we know - Yet have not art to say - So impotent our wisdom is To her simplicity.
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A Murmur in the Trees - to note - Not loud enough - for Wind - A Star - not far enough to seek - Nor near enough - to find
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You are out of the way of temptation and out of the way of the tempter - I didn't mean to make you wicked - but I was - and am - and shall be - and I was with you so much that I couldn't help contaminate.
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Initial of Creation, and The Exponent of Earth
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Fearless--the cobweb swings from the ceiling-- Indolent Housewife--in Daisies--lain!
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You left me boundaries of pain Capacious as the sea, Between eternity and time, Your consciousness and me.
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We meet no Stranger, but Ourself.
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Forever is composed of Nows— 'Tis not a different time— Except for Infiniteness— And Latitude of Home
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Faith—is the Pierless Bridge Supporting what We see Unto the Scene that We do not— Too slender for the eye It bears the Soul as bold As it were rocked in Steel With Arms of Steel at either side— It joins—behind the Veil To what, could We presume The Bridge would cease to be To Our far, vacillating Feet A first Necessity.
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[A] mother is one to whom you hurry when you are troubled.
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Apparently with no surprise To any happy Flower The Frost beheads it at its play -- In accidental power -- The blonde Assassin passes on -- The Sun proceeds unmoved To measure off another Day For an Approving God.
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And you dropt, lost, When something broke-- And let you from a Dream
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Grant me, O Lord, a sunny mind-Thy windy will to bear!
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As Summer into Autumn slips And yet we sooner say The Summer than the Autumn, lest We turn the sun away, And almost count it an Affront The presence to concede Of one however lovely, not The one that we have loved - So we evade the charge of Years On one attempting shy The Circumvention of the Shaft Of Life's Declivity.
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