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The Morning after Woe- Tis frequently the Way- Surpasses all that rose before- For utter Jubilee-.

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
Frequently
Unhappiness
Rose
Morning
Jubilee
Way
Surpasses
Woe
Utter

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Success is counted sweetest / By those who ne'er succeed.
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Prosperity Whose sources are interior. As soon Adversity A diamond overtake.
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Enough is so vast a sweetness I suppose it never occurs.
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The Heart wants what it wants - or else it does not care
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A Dominie in Gray-- Put gently up the evening Bars-- And led the flock away
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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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For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ecstasy.
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The last of Summer is Delight - Deterred by Retrospect. 'Tis Ecstasy's revealed Review - Enchantment's Syndicate. To meet it - nameless as it is - Without celestial Mail - Audacious as without a Knock To walk within the Veil.
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Heaven is so far of the mind that were the mind dissolved - the site of it by architect could not again be proved.
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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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A Deed knocks first at Thought And then - it knocks at Will - That is the manufacturing spot.
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I tasted - careless - then - I did not know the Wine Came once a World - Did you? Oh, had you told me so - This Thirst would blister - easier - now
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The lovely flowers embarrass me. They make me regret I am not a bee.
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