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Witchcraft was hung, in History, But History and I Find all the Witchcraft that we need Around us, every Day -

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
Witchcraft
Hung
History
Around
Find
Need
Needs
Every

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A precious, mouldering pleasure 't is, to meet an antique book, In just the dress his century wore A privilege I think.
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The possible's slow fuse is lit by the Imagination.
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The past is not a package one can lay away.
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Where thou art, that is home.
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The Brain is just the weight of God-- For--Heft them--Pound for Pound-- And they will differ--if they do-- As Syllable from Sound
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Luck is not chance, it's toil fortune's expensive smile is earned.
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Safe Despair it is that raves- Agony is frugal. Puts itself severe away For its own perusal.
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To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else.
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A Toad, can die of Light - Death is the Common Right Of Toads and Men
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Prosperity Whose sources are interior. As soon Adversity A diamond overtake.
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I hope your rambles have been sweet, and your reveries spacious
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To lose what we have never owned might seem an eccentric bereavement, but Presumption has its own affliction as well as claim.
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She died--this was the way she died And when her breath was done, Took up her simple wardrobe And started for the sun. Her little figure at the gate The angels must have spied, Since I could never find her Upon the mortal side.
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To be alive──is Power.
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A narrow Fellow in the Grass Occasionally rides
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I can wade Grief -- Whole Pools of it -- I'm used to that -- But the least push of Joy Breaks up my feet -- And I tip -- drunken -- Let no Pebble -- smile -- 'Twas the New Liquor -- That was all!
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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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Old age comes on suddenly, and not gradually as is thought.
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A charm invests a face Imperfectly beheld,— The lady dare not lift her veil For fear it be dispelled. But peers beyond her mesh, And wishes, and denies,— Lest interview annul a want That image satisfies.
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Love can do all but raise the Dead I doubt if even that From such a giant were withheld Were flesh equivalent But love is tired and must sleep, And hungry and must graze And so abets the shining Fleet Till it is out of gaze.
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