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If Aims impel these Astral Ones The ones allowed to know Know that which makes them as forgot As Dawn forgets them now

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
Ones
Astral
Forget
Forgets
Makes
Aims
Forgot
Dawn
Aim
Allowed
Atheism
Impel

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The minister today preached about death and judgment, and what would become of those who behaved improperly - and somehow it scared me. He preached such an awful sermon I didn't think I should ever see you again until the Judgment Day. The subject of perdition seemed to please him somehow.
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He deposes Doom Who hath suffered him.
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I imagine therefore I belong and am free.
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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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Twin loaves of bread have just been born into the world under my auspices. Fine children, the image of their mother. And here, my dear friend, is the glory.
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I think Heaven will not be as good as earth, unless it bring with it that sweet power to remember, which is the staple of Heaven here.
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Angels in the early morning may be seen the dews among. Stooping, plucking, smiling, flying. Do the buds to them belong?
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Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence - is denied them. They fling their Speech By means of it - in God's Ear - If then He hear - This sums the Apparatus Comprised in Prayer
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You cannot put a fire out! A thing that can ignite can go itself- without a flame- E'en through the darkest night!
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The lovely flowers embarrass me. They make me regret I am not a bee.
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Not 'Revelation'-'tis that waits/ But our unfurnished eyes
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September's Baccalaureate A combination is Of Crickets - Crows - and Retrospects And a dissembling Breeze That hints without assuming - An Innuendo sear That makes the Heart put up its Fun And turn Philosopher.
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The spreading wide my narrow Hands / To gather Paradise-.
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Celebrity is the chastisement of merit and the punishment of talent.
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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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Faith slips - and laughs, and rallies
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Pain - has an Element of Blank It cannot recollect When it begun - or if there were a time when it was not - It has no Future - but itself - Its Infinite contain Its Past - enlightened to perceive New Periods - of Pain.
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Besides the Autumn poets sing, A few prosaic days, A little this side of the snow, And that side of the Haze..., Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind- Thy windy will to bear!
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He fumbles at your spirit As players at the keys Before they drop full music on He stuns you by degrees. Prepares your brittle substance For the ethereal blow by fainter hammers, further heard, Then nearer, then so slow Your breath has time to straighten Your brain to bubble cool,- Deals one imperial thunderbolt That scalps your naked soul.
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That no Flake of [snow] fall on you or them - is a wish that would be a Prayer, were Emily not a Pagan.
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