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Lest I should be old-fashioned, I'll put a trinket on.

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
Fall
Trinket
Trinkets
Berries
Lest
Fashioned
Autumn

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'Tis sweet to know that stocks will stand When we with Daisies lie- That Commerce will continue- And Trades as briskly fly.
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The Morning after Woe- Tis frequently the Way- Surpasses all that rose before- For utter Jubilee-.
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There is no Frigate like a book to take us lands away nor any coursers like a page of prancing Poetry.
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After a hundred years Nobody knows the place, Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace.
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Anger as soon as fed is dead- 'Tis starving makes it fat.
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Truth is so rare that it is delightful to tell it.
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Spring is the Period Express from God.
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Faith slips - and laughs, and rallies
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Old age comes on suddenly, and not gradually as is thought.
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A Bayonet's contrition is nothing to the dead.
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A color stands abroad on solitary hills that silence cannot overtake, but human nature feels.
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Finite to fail, but infinite to venture.
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Publication - is the auction of the mind.
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Remorse is cureless--the Disease Not even God--can heal-- For 'tis His institution--and The Adequate of Hell
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I hope your rambles have been sweet, and your reveries spacious
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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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That short, potential stir That each can make but once, That bustle so illustrious Tis almost consequence, Is the eclat of death.
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God's unique capacity is too surprising to surprise.
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Hold dear to your parents for it is a scary and confusing world without them.
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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.
Emily Dickinson