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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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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.
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Morning without you is a dwindled dawn.
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Opinion is a flitting thing But Truth outlasts the Sun.
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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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I cannot live with you, It would be life, And life is over there Behind the shelf
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Success is counted sweetest / By those who ne'er succeed.
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Opinion is a fitting thing but truth outlasts the sun - if then we cannot own them both, possess the oldest one.
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To multiply the harbors does not reduce the sea.
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Spring is the Period Express from God.
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You are out of the way of temptation and out of the way of the tempter - I didn't mean to make you wicked - but I was - and am - and shall be - and I was with you so much that I couldn't help contaminate.
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I stepped from Plank to Plank A slow and cautious way
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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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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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That it will never come again is what makes life sweet.
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A Word that Breathes Distinctly Has not the Power to Die
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I hope your rambles have been sweet, and your reveries spacious
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Proud of my broken heart since thou didst break it, Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee, Proud of my night since thou with moons dost slake it, Not to partake thy passion, my humility.
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The Heart wants what it wants - or else it does not care
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There's a certain Slant of light, Winter afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us— We can find no scar, But internal difference, Where the Meanings, are.... When it comes, the Landscape listens— Shadows—hold their breath— When it goes, 'tis like the Distance On the look of Death.
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Open your life wide, and take me in forever. I will never be tired-I will never be noisy when you want to be still...nobody else will see me, but you-but that is enough-I shall not want any more.
Emily Dickinson