Poems by Emily Dickinson (Google eBook)

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Roberts Brothers, 1890 - 152 pages
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One is swept into the world of this woman who reportedly was nearly a recluse and yet commanded intense powers of observation, a deep spiritual sense, and a broad vocabulary. Another reviewer declared him or herself unentertained. But that was not the point of these poems, for only a couple were published or were even written to be published. These were private works, the outpourings of the soul, meant for private devotion and personal expression. They are the window by which we see the inner workings of a very private person. I was moved. 

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Page 138 - Because I could not stop for Death He kindly stopped for me The Carriage held but just Ourselves And Immortality. We slowly drove - He knew no haste And I had put away My labor and my leisure too, For His Civility We passed the School, where Children...
Page 119 - I died for Beauty — but was scarce Adjusted in the Tomb When One who died for Truth, was lain In an adjoining Room — He questioned softly "Why I failed"?
Page 126 - I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet know I how the heather* looks, And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God, Nor visited in heaven; Yet certain am I of the spot As if the chart were given.
Page 34 - Landlords' turn the drunken Bee Out of the Foxglove's door When Butterflies - renounce their 'drams' I shall but drink the more! Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats And Saints - to windows run To see the little...
Page 13 - Success is counted sweetest By those who ne'er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple Host Who took the Flag today Can tell the definition So clear of Victory As he defeated -dying— On whose forbidden ear The distant strains of triumph Burst agonized and clear!
Page 55 - A newer Sevres pleases Old Ones crack I could not die - with You For One must wait To shut the Other's Gaze down You - could not And I - Could I stand by And see You - freeze Without my Right of Frost Death's privilege? Nor could I rise - with You Because Your Face Would put out Jesus...
Page 113 - Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection — Rafter of satin, And Roof of stone.
Page 106 - 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...
Page 18 - If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain; If I can ease one life the aching, Or cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin Unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain.
Page 35 - He ate and drank the precious words, His spirit grew robust; He knew no more that he was poor, Nor that his frame was dust. He danced along the dingy days, And this bequest of wings Was but a book. What liberty A loosened spirit brings!

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