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And you dropt, lost, When something broke-- And let you from a Dream

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
Something
Broke
Lost
Dream

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To see the Summer Sky Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie— True Poems flee—
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Best Witchcraft is Geometry To the magician's mind - His ordinary acts are feats To thinking of mankind.
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I stepped from Plank to Plank A slow and cautious way
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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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Will you tell me my fault, frankly as to yourself, for I had rather wince, than die. Men do not call the surgeon to commend the bone, but to set it, Sir.
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A color stands abroad on solitary hills that silence cannot overtake, but human nature feels.
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Existence has overpowered Books. Today I slew a Mushroom.
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You'll find it-when you try to die- The Easier to let go- For recollecting such as went- You could not spare-you know.
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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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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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Heart, we will forget him! You and I, to-night! You may forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light. When you have done, pray tell me, That I my thoughts may dim Haste! lest while you’re lagging, I may remember him!
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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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Spring is the Period Express from God.
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Fame is a bee It has a song - It has a sting - Ah, too, it has a wing.
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Exultation is the going Of an inland soul to sea Past the houses, past the headlands Into deep eternity! Bred as we, among the mountains Can the sailor understand The divine intoxication Of the first league out from land?
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The lovely flowers embarrass me. They make me regret I am not a bee.
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I felt it shelter to speak to you.
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Morning without you is a dwindled dawn.
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I cannot live with you, It would be life, And life is over there Behind the shelf
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Witchcraft was hung, in History, But History and I Find all the Witchcraft that we need Around us, every Day -
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