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To see the Summer Sky Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie— True Poems flee—

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
Though
Lying
True
Summertime
Nature
Flee
Book
Poems
Never
Sky
Summer
Poetry

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For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ecstasy.
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A wounded deer leaps the highest.
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The WILL is always near, dear, though the feet vary.
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To shut your eyes is to travel.
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Wild Nights – Wild Nights! Were I with thee Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile – the winds – To a heart in port – Done with the compass – Done with the chart! Rowing in Eden – Ah, the sea! Might I moor – Tonight – In thee!
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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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I hope your rambles have been sweet, and your reveries spacious
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Because I could not stop for death, He kindly stopped for me The carriage held but just ourselves and immortality.
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The steeples swam in amethyst, the news like squirrels swam.
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If I shouldn't be alive When the Robins come, Give the one in Red Cravat, A Memorial crumb.
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Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all, And sweetest in the gale is heard And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I've heard it in the chilliest land And on the strangest sea Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.
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The past is not a package one can lay away.
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Suspense-is Hostiler than Death-Death- tho soever Broad, Is just Death, and cannot increase- Suspense-does not conclude-.
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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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The world allured me & in an unguarded moment I listened to her siren voice. From that moment I seemed to lose interest in heavenly things. Friends reasoned with me & told me of the danger I was in. I felt my danger & was alarmed, but I had rambled too far to return & ever since my heart has been growing harder.
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Good times are always mutual that is what makes good times.
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Surgeons must be very careful When they take the knife! Underneath their fine incisions Stirs the Culprit-Life!
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To be alive──is Power.
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That it will never come again is what makes life sweet.
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My life closed twice before its close It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me, So huge, so hopeless to conceive, As these that twice befell. Parting is all we know of heaven, And all we need of hell.
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