Quote

Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide, But during March and April None stir abroad Without a cordial interview With God.

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
Seasons
Cordial
Express
Abide
Period
Stir
Periods
April
None
Interview
Spring
Abroad
Among
Interviews
Without
March

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Finite to fail, but infinite to venture.
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Two Seasons, it is said, exist- The Summer of the Just, And this of Ours, diversified With Prospect, and with Frost- May not our Second with its First So infinite compare That We but recollect the one The other to prefer?
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This so much joy! This so much joy! If I should fail, what poverty! And yet, as poor as I Have ventured all upon a throw Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so this side the victory!
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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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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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Morning without you is a dwindled dawn.
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I stepped from Plank to Plank A slow and cautious way
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A Deed knocks first at Thought And then - it knocks at Will - That is the manufacturing spot.
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The morns are meeker than they were, The nuts are getting brown The berry's cheek is plumper, The rose is out of town. The maple wears a gayer scarf, The field a scarlet gown. Lest I should be old-fashioned, I'll put a trinket on.
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Home is the definition of God.
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I don't profess to be profound but I do lay claim to common sense.
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Mine Enemy is growing old -- I have at last Revenge -- The Palate of the Hate departs -- If any would avenge Let him be quick -- the Viand flits -- It is a faded Meat -- Anger as soon as fed is dead -- 'Tis starving makes it fat
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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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The only secret people keep is immortality.
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And you dropt, lost, When something broke-- And let you from a Dream
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I felt it shelter to speak to you.
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Fearless--the cobweb swings from the ceiling-- Indolent Housewife--in Daisies--lain!
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For love is immortality.
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I dwell in possibility.
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Eden is that old-fashioned house we dwell in every day Without suspecting our abode until we drive away.
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