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Title Page
HISTORICAL CONTEXT – THE VICTORIAN ERA
LIFE OF EMILY DICKINSON
"Arcturus" is his other name
"Faith" is a fine invention
"Heaven" has different Signs-to me
"Heaven"-is what I cannot reach!
"Hope" is the thing with feathers
"Houses"-so the Wise Men tell me
"I want"-it pleaded-All its life
"Morning"-means "Milking"-to the Farmer
"Nature" is what we see
"Speech"-is a prank of Parliament
"Unto Me?" I do not know you
"Why do I love" You, Sir?
A Bird Came Down
A Book
A Burdock-clawed my Gown
A Charm invests a face
A Clock Stopped -- Not The Mantel's
A Cloud withdrew from the Sky
A Coffin—is a Small Domain
A darting fear-a pomp-a tear
A Day! Help! Help! Another Day!
A Death blow is a Life blow to Some
A door just opened on a street
A doubt if it be Us
A drop fell on the apple tree
A Dying Tiger-moaned for Drink
A feather from the Whippoorwill
A first Mute Coming
A fuzzy fellow, without feet
A happy lip-breaks sudden
A House upon the Height
A Lady red-amid the Hill
A light exists in spring
A little bread-a crust-a crumb
A little East of Jordan
A little road not made man
A long, long sleep, a famous sleep
A loss of something ever felt I
A Man may make a Remark
A Mien to move a Queen
A Moth the hue of this
A Murmur in the Trees-to note
A narrow fellow in the grass
A nearness to Tremendousness
A Night-there lay the Days between
A Planted Life-diversified
A poor-torn heart-a tattered heart
A precious—mouldering pleasure
A Prison gets to be a friend
A Route of Evanescence
A science-so the Savants say
A Secret told
A sepal, petal, and a thorn
A Shade upon the mind there passes
A shady friend for torrid days
A single Screw of Flesh
A slash of Blue
A Solemn thing within the Soul
A solemn thing-it was-I said
A something in a summer's Day
A South Wind-has a pathos
A still—Volcano—Life
A thought went up my mind to-day
A throe upon the features
A toad can die of light!
A Tongue—to tell Him I am true!
A Tooth upon Our Peace
A transport one cannot contain
A Visitor in Marl
A Weight with Needles on the pounds
A Wife-at daybreak I shall be
A Wounded Deer-leaps highest
Abraham to Kill Him
Absence disembodies—so does Death
Absent Place-an April Day
Adrift! A little boat adrift!
Afraid! Of whom am I afraid?
After a hundred years
After Great Pain, A Formal Feeling Comes
After great pain, a formal feeling comes -- (341)
Again-his voice is at the door
Ah, Moon—and Star!
Ah, Teneriffe!
All but Death, can be Adjusted
All Circumstances are the Frame
All forgot for recollecting
All I may, if small
All overgrown by cunning moss
All the letters I can write
All these my banners be
Alone, I cannot be
Alter! When the Hills do
Although I put away his life
Always Mine!
Ambition cannot find him
Ample make this bed.
An altered look about the hills
An awful Tempest mashed the air
An English Breeze
An everywhere of silver
An Hour is a Sea
An ignorance a Sunset
And this of all my Hopes
Angels, in the early morning
Answer July
Apology for Her
Apparently with no Surprise
Arcturus
Artists wrestled here!
As by the dead we love to sit
As Children bid the Guest "Good Night"
As Everywhere of Silver
As far from pity, as complaint
As Frost is best conceived
As if I asked a common Alms
As if some little Arctic flower
As if the Sea should part
As imperceptibly as Grief
As One does Sickness over
As plan for Noon and plan for Night
As Sleigh Bells seem in summer
As the Starved Maelstrom laps the Navies
As Watchers hang upon the East
At last, to be identified!
At least—to pray—is left—is left
Autumn-overlooked my Knitting
Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine
Away from Home are some and I—
Baffled for just a day or two
Banish Air from Air-
Be Mine the Doom-
Beauty-be not caused-It Is
Because I could not stop for Death (712)
Because the Bee may blameless hum
Beclouded
Bee! I'm expecting you!
Before He comes we weigh the Time!
Before I got my eye put out
Before the ice is in the pools
Before you thought of spring,
Behind Me-dips Eternity
Bereaved of all, I went abroad
Bereavement in their death to feel
Besides the Autumn poets sing
Besides this May
Best Gains—must have the Losses' Test
Best Things dwell out of Sight
Better—than Music! For I—who heard it
Between My Country—and the Others
Bird
Blazing in Gold and quenching in Purple
Bless God, he went as soldiers
Bloom upon the Mountain—stated
Bound-a trouble
braind within its groove, The
Bring me the sunset in a cup
But little Carmine hath her face
By a flower—By a letter
By Chivalries as tiny
By my Window have I for Scenery
By such and such an offering
By The Sea
Chartless
Civilization-spurns-the Leopard!
Cocoon above! Cocoon below!
Color—Caste—Denomination
Come Slowly
Come slowly—Eden!
Conjecturing a Climate
Conscious am I in my Chamber
Could I but ride indefinite
Could I—then—shut the door
Could live—did live
Could—I do more—for Thee
Crisis is a Hair
Crumbling is not an instant's Act
Dare you see a Soul at the White Heat?
Death is a Dialogue between
Death is potential to that Man
Death Leaves Us homesick, Who Behind
Death sets a thing of signigicant
Defrauded I a Butterfly
Delayed till she had ceased to know
Delight becomes pictorial
Delight is as the flight
Denial-is the only fact
Departed to the judgment,
Deprived of other Banquet
Despair's advantage is achieved
Did Our Best Moment last
Did the Harebell loose her girdle
Did we disobey Him?
Did you ever stand in a Cavern's Mouth
Distrustful of the Gentian
Do People moulder equally
Don't put up my Thread and Needle
Doom is the House without the Door
Doubt Me! My Dim Companion!
Drab Habitation of Whom?
Drama's Vitallest Expression is the Common Day
Dreams-are well-but Waking's better
Dropped into the Ether Acre
Dust is the only Secret
Dying (I heard a fly buzz when I died)
Dying! Dying in the night!
Dying! To be afraid of thee
Each life converges to some centre
Each Scar I'll keep for Him
Each Second is the last
Elysium is as far as to
Embarrassment of one another
Empty my Heart, of Thee
Endow the Living—with the Tears
Escaping backward to perceive
Essential Oils—are wrung
Except the Heaven had come so near
Except to Heaven, she is nought
Exclusion (The soul selects her own society)
Exhilaration—is within
Expectation—is Contentment
Experience is the Angled Road
Exultation is the going
Fairer through Fading—as the Day
Faith
Faith—is the Pierless Bridge
Fame is a bee
Fame is a fickle food (1659)
Fame is the tine that Scholars leave
Fame of Myself, to justify
Finding is the first Act
Finite—to fail, but infinite to Venture
First Robin
Fitter to see Him, I may be
Flowers—Well—if anybody
For Death—or rather
For each ecstatic instant
For every Bird a Nest
For largest Woman's Hearth I knew
For this—accepted Breath
Forever at His side to walk
Forever—it composed of Nows
Forget! The lady with the Amulet
Four Trees—upon a solitary Acre
Frequently the wood are pink
From Blank to Blank
From Cocoon forth a Butterfly
From Us She wandered now a Year
Funny—to be a Century
Further in Summer than the Birds
Garland for Queens, may be
Give little Anguish
Given in Marriage unto Thee
Glee—The great storm is over
Glowing is her Bonnet
God gave a loaf to every bird,
God is a distant—stately Lover
God made a little Gentian
God permit industrious angels
Going to Heaven!
Going to him! Happy letter! Tell him--
Good Morning—Midnight
Good night! which put the candle out?
Good night, because we must
Good to hide, and hear 'em hunt!
Gratitude—is not the mention
Great Caesar! Condescend
Grief is a Mouse
Had I not This, or This, I said
Had I presumed to hope
Have any like Myself
Have you got a Brook in your little heart
He forgot—and I—remembered
He fought like those Who've nought to lose
He found my Being—set it up
He fumbles at your Soul
He fumbles at your spirit
He gave away his Life
He outstripped Time with but a Bout
He parts Himself—like Leaves
He put the Belt around my life
He strained my faith
He told a homely tale
He touched me, so I live to know
He was weak, and I was strong—then
He who in Himself believes
Heart! We will forget him!
Heart, not so heavy as mine
Heart, We Will Forget Him
Heaven
Heaven has different Signs—to me
Heaven is so far of the Mind
Heaven is what I cannot reach!
Her—
Her breast is fit for pearls
Her final summer was it,
Her Grace is all she has-
Her smile was shaped like other smiles
Her Sweet turn to leave the Homestead
Her sweet Weight on my Heart a Night
Her-"last Poems"
Herein a Blossom lies
His Bill an Auger is
His Feet are shod with Gauze
Home
Hope is the thing with feathers
Houses—so the Wise Men tell me—
How far is it to Heaven?
How fortunate the Grave
How happy I was if I could forget
How happy is the little Stone
How many Flowers fail in Wood
How many times these low feet staggered
How noteless Men, and Pleiads, stand
How sick—to wait—in any place—but thine
How the old Mountains drip with Sunset
How the Waters closed above Him
How well I knew Her not
I am alive—I guess
I am ashamed—I hide
I asked no other thing
I breathed enough to learn the trick,
I bring an unaccustomed wine
I Came to buy a smile—today
I can wade Grief
I cannot be ashamed
I cannot buy it—'tis not sold
I cannot dance upon my Toes
I cannot live with You (No. 640)
I can't tell you—but you feel it
I cautious, scanned my little life
I could bring You Jewels—had I a mind to
I could die—to know
I could not drink it, Sweet
I could not prove the Years had feet
I could suffice for Him, I knew
I cried at Pity—not at Pain
I cross till I am weary
I Died For Beauty
I died for beauty but was scarce
I dreaded that first Robin, so
I dwell in Possibility
I envy Seas, whereon He rides
I fear a Man of frugal Speech
I felt a cleaving in my mind
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain (280)
I felt my life with both my hands
I found the phrase to every thought
I gained it so
I gave myself to Him
I got so I could take his name
I had a guinea golden
I had been hungry all the years-
I had no Cause to be awake
I had no time to Hate
I had no time to hate, because
I had not minded—Walls
I had some things that I called mine
I had the Glory—that will do
I have a Bird in spring
I have a King, who does not speak
I have never seen
I have never seen "Volcanoes"
I haven't told my garden yet
I heard a fly buzz when I died;
I held a Jewel in my fingers
I hide myself within my flower
I keep my pledge
I know a place where summer strives
I know lives, I could miss
I know some lonely Houses off the Road
I know that He exists
I know where Wells grow—Droughtless Wells
I learned—at least—what Home could be
I like a look of Agony
I like to see it lap the miles,
I live with Him—I see His face
I lived on Dread
I lived on dread; to those who know
I lost a World - the other day!
I made slow Riches but my Gain
I make His Crescent fill or lack
I many times thought Peace had come
I meant to find Her when I came
I meant to have but modest needs
I measure every Grief I meet (561)
I ment to find her when I came;
I met a King this afternoon!
I never felt at Home—Below
I never hear the word 'escape'
I never lost as much but twice
I Never Saw a Moor
I never told the buried gold
I often passed the village
I pay—in Satin Cash
I play at Riches—to appease
I prayed, at first, a little Girl
I read my sentence—steadily
I reason, Earth is short
I reckon—when I count it all
I robbed the Woods
I rose—because He sank
I saw no Way—The Heavens were stitched
I see thee better—in the Dark
I send Two Sunsets
I shall keep singing!
I shall know why—when Time is over
I should have been too glad, I see
I should not dare to leave my friend
I showed her Heights she never saw
I sing to use the Waiting
I sometimes drop it, for a Quick
I started Early - Took my Dog
I stepped from plank to plank
I stole them from a Bee
I taste a liquor never brewed
I tend my flowers for thee
I think I was enchanted
I think just how my shape will rise
I think the Hemlock likes to stand
I think the longest Hour of all
I think to Live—may be a Bliss
I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl
I took my Power in my Hand
I tried to think a lonelier Thing
I want—it pleaded—All its life—
I was the slightest in the House
I watched the Moon around the House (629)
I went to heaven,--
I went to thank Her
I would distil a cup
I would not paint—a picture
I years had been from home,
I’ll tell you how the sun rose
Ideals are the Fairly Oil
If any sink, assure that this, now standing
If anybody's friend be dead
If Blame be my side—forfeit Me
If He dissolve—then—there is nothing
If He were living—dare I ask
If I can stop one heart from breaking,
If I could bribe them by a Rose
If I may have it, when it's dead
If I should cease to bring a Rose
If I should die
If I shouldn't be alive
If I'm lost-now
If it had no pencil
If pain for peace prepares
If recollecting were forgetting
If she had been the Mistletoe
If the foolish, call them "flowers"
If this is "fading"
If those I loved were lost
If What we could-were what we would
If you were coming in the fall,
If your Nerve, deny you
I'll clutch—and clutch
I'll send the feather from my Hat!
I'm
I'm "wife"-I've finished that
I'm ceded—I've stopped being Theirs
I'm nobody! Who are you?
I'm saying every day
I'm sorry for the Dead—Today
I'm the little
I'm the little "Heart's Ease"
Impossibility, like Wine
In Ebon Box, when years have flown
In falling Timbers buried
In lands I never saw—they say
In rags mysterious as these
In Winter in my Room
Inconceivably solemn!
Is Bliss then, such Abyss
Is it dead—Find it
Is it true, dear Sue?
It always felt to me—a wrong
It bloomed and dropt, a Single Noon
It can't be "Summer"!
It ceased to hurt me, though so slow
It did not surprise me
It don't sound so terrible—quite—as it did
It Dropped So Low -- In My Regard --
It dropped so low in my regard
It feels a shame to be Alive
It is a lonesome Glee
It is an honorable thought,
It is easy to work when the soul is at play
It knew no lapse, nor Diminuation
It knew no Medicine
It makes no difference abroad
It might be lonelier
It sifts from Leaden Sieves
It struck me every day
It tossed—and tossed
It troubled me as once I was
It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone
It was given to me by the Gods
It was not death, for I stood up,
It was too late for Man
It will be Summer—eventually
It would have starved a Gnat
It would never be Common—more—I said
It's all I have to bring today
It's coming—the postponeless Creature
It's easy to invent a Life
It's like the light, --
It's such a little thing to weep
It's thoughts—and just One Heart
I've heard an Organ talk, sometimes
I've known a Heaven, like a Tent
I've none to tell me to but Thee
I've nothing else—to bring, You know
I've seen a Dying Eye
Jesus! thy Crucifix
Joy to have merited the Pain
Just as He spoke it from his Hands
Just lost, when I was saved!
Kill your Balm—and its Odors bless you
Knows how to forget!
Least Bee that brew
Least Rivers—docile to some sea
Let Us play Yesterday
Life—is what we make of it
Light is sufficient to itself
Like eyes that looked on Wastes
Like Flowers, that heard the news of Dews
Like her the Saints retire
Like Mighty Foot Lights—burned the Red
Like Some Old fashioned Miracle
Like trains of cars on tracks of plush
Love reckons by itself—alone
Love-is anterior to Life
Love-thou art high
Love—is anterior to Life
Love—is that Later Thing than Death
Love—thou art high
Low at my problem bending
Make me a picture of the sun
Mama never forgets her birds
Many a phrase has the English language
Many cross the Rhine
Me from Myself—to banish
Me prove it now—Whoever doubt
Me! Come! My dazzled face
Me, change! Me, alter!
Midsummer, was it, when They died
Mine—by the Right of the White Election!
More Life—went out—when He went
Morning—is the place for Dew
Morning—means
Morns like these—we parted
Most she touched me by her muteness
Much Madness is divinest Sense
Musicians wrestle everywhere
Must be a Woe
Mute thy Coronation
My Eye is fuller than my vase
My Faith is larger than the Hills
My first well Day—since many ill
My friend attacks my friend!
My friend must be a Bird
My Garden—like the Beach
My life closed twice
My life had stood
My nosegays are for captives;
My period had come for Prayer
My Portion is Defeat—today
My Reward for Being, was This
My River runs to thee
My Soul—accused me—And I quailed
My wheel is in the dark
My Worthiness is all my Doubt
Myself was formed—a Carpenter
Nature and God—I neither knew
Nature is what we see—
Nature rarer uses yellow
Nature the gentlest mother is
Nature-sometimes sears a Sapling
Nature, the gentlest mother,
Nature—sometimes sears a Sapling
Never for Society
New feet within my garden go
No Bobolink—reverse His Singing
No Crowd that has occurred
No Man can compass a Despair
No matter—now—Sweet
No Notice gave She, but a Change
No Other can reduce
No Prisoner be
No Rack can torture me
No Romance sold unto
Nobody knows this little Rose
None can experience sting
Noon—is the Hinge of Day
Not
Not "Revelation"-'tis-that waits
Not all die early, dying young
Not in this world to see his face
Not probable—The barest Chance
Not that We did, shall be the test
Of all the souls that stand create
Of all the Sounds despatched abroad
Of Being is a Bird
Of Bronze—and Blaze
Of Brussels—it was not
Of Consciousness, her awful Mate
Of Course—I prayed
Of nearness to her sundered Things
Of Silken Speech and Specious Shoe
Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause?
Of Tribulation, these are They
On a Columnar Self
On such a night, or such a night
On that dear Frame the Years had worn
On this long storm the Rainbow rose
On this wondrous sea
Once more, my now bewildered Dove
One and One—are One
One Anguish—in a Crowd
One Blessing had I than the rest
One Crucifixion is recorded—only
One dignity delays for all
One Life of so much Consequence!
One need not be a chamber to be haunted,
One Sister have I in our house
One Year ago—jots what?
Only a Shrine, but Mine
Only God—detect the Sorrow
Our journey had advanced;
Our little Kinsmen—after Rain
Our Lives Are Swiss
Our share of night to bear
Ourselves were wed one summer—dear
Out of sight? What of that?
Over and over, like a Tune
Over the fence
Pain
Pain Has An Element
Pain has an element of blank;
Pain-expands the Time
Pain-has an Element of Blank
Papa above!
Partake as doth the Bee
Patience—has a quiet Outer
Peace is a fiction of our Faith
Perhaps I Asked Too Large
Perhaps you think me stooping
Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower
Pigmy seraphs—gone astray
Poor little Heart!
Portraits are to daily faces
Prayer is the little implement
Precious to Me—She still shall be
Presentiment is that long shadow on the lawn
Promise This—When You be Dying
Publication
Publication—is the Auction
Purple—is fashionable twice
Put up my lute!
Read—Sweet—how others—strove
Rehearsal to Ourselves
Remorse
Removed from Accident of Loss
Renunciation
Rest at Night
Reverse cannot befall
Ribbons of the Year
Robbed by Death—but that was easy
Safe in their alabaster chambers,
Savior! I've no one else to tell
Severer Service of myself
Sexton! My Master's sleeping here
She bore it till the simple veins
She dealt her pretty words like Blades
She died at play
She died—this was the way she died
She dwelleth in the Ground
She hideth Her the last
She lay as if at play
She rose to His Requirement
She slept beneath a tree
She sped as Petals of a Rose
She staked her Feathers—Gained an Arc
She sweeps with many-colored brooms,
She went as quiet as the Dew
Shells from the Coast mistaking
She's happy, with a new Content
Should you but fail at—Sea
Sic transit gloria mundi
Size circumscribes—it has no room
Sleep is supposed to be
Smiling back from Coronation
Snow beneath whose chilly softness
Snow flakes
So bashful when I spied her!
So from the mould
So glad we are—a Stranger'd deem
So has a Daisy vanished
So much Summer
So proud she was to die
So set its Sun in Thee
So the Eyes accost—and sunder
So well that I can live without
Soil of Flint, if steady tilled
Some Keep the Sabbath Going to Church
Some Rainbow—coming from the Fair!
Some such Butterfly be seen
Some things that fly there be
Some-Work for Immortality
Some, too fragile for winter winds
Some—Work for Immortality
Soto! Explore thyself!
Soul, Wilt thou toss again?
South Winds jostle them
Sown in dishonor
Speech—is a prank of Parliament—
Split the Lark-and you'll find the Music
Spring is the Period
Strong Draughts of Their Refreshing Minds
Struck, was I, not yet by Lightning
Success is Counted Sweetest
Such is the Force of Happiness
Summer for thee, grant I may be
Summer Shower
Sunset at Night—is natural
Superfluous were the Sun
Surgeons must be very careful
Suspense—is Hostiler than Death
Sweet Mountains—Ye tell Me no lie
Sweet-safe-Houses
Sweet-You forgot-but I remembered
Sweet, to have had them lost
Sweet—You forgot—but I remembered
T was just this time last year I died.
Take your Heaven further on
Taking up the fair Ideal
Talk with prudence to a Beggar
Teach Him—When He makes the names
Tell All The Truth
That after Horror—that 'twas us
That Distance was between Us
That first Day, when you praised Me, Sweet
That I did always love
That is solemn we have ended
The Admirations—and Contempts—of time
The Angle of a Landscape
The Battle fought between the Soul
The Bee is not afraid of me
The Beggar Lad-dies early
The Bible is an antique Volume
The Bird must sing to earn the Crumb
The Birds begun at Four o'clock
The Birds reported from the South
The Black Berry—wears a Thorn in his side
The Body grows without
The Brain-is wider than the Sky
The Brain, within its Groove
The Brain—is wider than the Sky
The bustle in a house
The bustle in a house
The Chariot
The Chemical conviction
The Child's faith is new
The Color of a Queen, is this
The Color of the Grave is Green
The Court is far away
The cricket sang,
The Daisy follows soft the Sun
The Day Came Slow
The Day that I was crowned
The Day undressed-Herself
The Definition of Beauty is
The difference between Despair
The Doomed—regard the Sunrise
The Drop, that wrestles in the Sea
The Dust behind I strove to join
The dying need but little, dear,--
The face I carry with me—last
The feet of people walking home
The Fingers of the Light
The first Day that I was a Life
The first Day's Night had come
The Flower must not blame the Bee
The Future—never spoke
The Gentian weaves her fringes
The good Will of a Flower
The Grace—Myself—might not obtain
The Grass so little has to do
The Guest is gold and crimson
The hallowing of Pain
The heart asks pleasure first
The Heart has narrow Banks
The Heaven vests for Each
The Himmaleh was known to stoop
The Hollows round His eager Eyes
The Judge is like the Owl
The Juggler's Hat her Country is
The Lady feeds Her little Bird
The Lamp burns sure—within
The last Night that She lived
The Leaves like Women interchange
The Loneliness One dare not sound
The lonesome for they know not What
The Love a Life can show Below
The Luxury to apprehend
The Malay—took the Pearl
The Manner of its Death
The Martyr Poets—did not tell
The Missing All—prevented Me
The Months have ends—the Years—a knot
The Moon was but a Chin of Gold
The Morning after Woe
The morns are meeker than they were
The Mountain sat upon the Plain
The Mountains—grow unnoticed
The Murmur of a Bee
The Mystery of Pain
The name-of it-is "Autumn"
The nearest dream recedes, unrealized.
The Night was wide, and furnished scant
The One who could repeat the Summer day
The only ghost I ever saw
The Only News I know
The Outer—from the Inner
The pedigree of honey
The Poets light but Lamps
The power to be true to You
The Province of the Saved
The Railway Train
The rainbow never tells me
The Red—Blaze—is the Morning
The Robin for the Crumb
The Robin is the One
The Robin's my Criterion for Tune
The Rose did caper on her cheek
The Service without Hope
The show is not the show,
The Skies can't keep their secret!
The sky is low, the clouds are mean,
The Soul has Bandaged moments
The Soul Selects Her Own Society
The Soul that hath a Guest
The Soul unto itself (683)
The Soul's distinct connection
The Soul's Superior instants
The Spider holds a Silver Ball
The Spirit is the Conscious Ear
The Sun and Moon must make their haste
The Sun is gay or stark
The Sun kept setting—setting—still
The Sun kept stooping—stooping
The Sun—just touched the Morning
The Sunrise runs for Both
The Sunset stopped on Cottages
The sweetest Heresy received
The Test of Love—is Death
The thought beneath so slight a film
The Tint I cannot take—is best
The Trees like Tassels—hit—and swung
The Truth—is stirless
The Veins of other Flowers
The Way I read a Letter's—this
The White Heat
The Whole of it came not at once
The Wind begun to knead the Grass
The wind begun to rock the grass
The Wind didn't come from the Orchard—today
The wind trapped like a tired man,
The Winters are so short
The Woodpecker
The World-feels Dusty
The World-stands-solemner-to me
The World—stands—solemner—to me
The Zeroes—taught us—Phosphorous
Their Height in Heaven comforts not
There are two Ripenings—one—of sight
There came a Day at Summer's full
There came a Wind like a Bugle
There is a finished feeling
There is a flower that Bees prefer
There is a June when Corn is cut
There is a Languor of the Life
There is a morn by men unseen
There is a pain—so utter
There is a Shame of Nobleness
There is a word
There is an arid Pleasure
There is another sky
There is no frigate like a book
There's a certain Slant of light (258)
There's been a death in the opposite house
There's something quieter than sleep
These are the days when Birds come back
These tested Our Horizon
These—saw Visions
They ask but our Delight
They called me to the Window, for
They dropped like flakes
They have a little Odor—that to me
'They Have Not Chosen Me,' He Said
They leave us with the Infinite
They put Us far apart
They say that 'time assuages,
They Shut Me Up in Prose
They won't frown always—some sweet Day
This Bauble was preferred of Bees
This Chasm, Sweet, upon my life
This Consciousness that is aware
This Dust, and its Feature
This heart that broke so long
This is a Blossom of the Brain
This is my letter to the world,
This is the land the sunset washes,
This Merit hath the worst
This Quiet Dust was Gentlemen and Ladies
This that would greet-an hour ago
This was a Poet-It is That
This was in the White of the Year
This World is not Conclusion
This-is the land-the Sunset washes
Tho' I get home how late—how late
Tho' my destiny be Fustian
Those fair—fictitious People
Those who have been in the Grave the longest
Three times—we parted—Breath—and I
Through lane it lay—through bramble
Through the Dark Sod—as Education
Through the strait pass of suffering
Tie the strings to my life, my Lord,
Till Death—is narrow Loving
Time feels so vast that were it not
'Tis Anguish grander than Delight
'Tis customary as we part
'Tis good-the looking back on Grief
'Tis little I—could care for Pearls
'Tis not that Dying hurts us so
'Tis One by One — the Father counts
'Tis Opposites-entice
'Tis so appalling-it exhilarates
'Tis so much joy! 'Tis so much joy!
'Tis Sunrise-Little Maid-Hast Thou
'Tis true—They shut me in the Cold
To be alive—is Power
To die
To die—takes just a little while
To fight aloud, is very brave
To fill a Gap
To hang our head-ostensibly
To hear an Oriole sing
To interrupt His Yellow Plan
To know just how He suffered-would be dear
To learn the Transport by the Pain
To lose one's faith-surpass
To love thee Year by Year
To make a prairie (1755)
To make One's Toilette-after Death
To my quick ear the leaves conferred;
To my small Hearth His fire came
To offer brave assistance
To One denied the drink
To own the Art within the Soul
To put this World down, like a Bundle
To this World she returned
To venerate the simple days
To wait an Hour—is long
Too little way the House must lie
Train
Triumph—may be of several kinds
Trust in the Unexpected
Truth—is as old as God
'Twas a long Parting-but the time
Twas Crisis—All the length had passed
'Twas just this time, last year, I died
'Twas like a Maelstrom, with a notch
'Twas Love—not me
Twas such a little—little boat
'Twas the old—road—through pain
'Twas warm—at first—like Us
Twice had Summer her fair Verdure
Two butterflies went out at noon
Two swimmers wrestled on the spar
Two Travellers perishing in Snow
'Twould ease—a Butterfly
Two—were immortal twice
Unable are the Loved to die
Uncertain lease—develops lustre
Under the Light, yet under
Undue Significance a starving man attaches
Unfulfilled to Observation
Unit, like Death, for Whom?
Unto like Story—Trouble has enticed me
Unto Me? I do not know you—
Unto my Books—so good to turn
Upon Concluded Lives
Victory comes late
Wait till the Majesty of Death
Water, is taught by thirst
We can but follow to the Sun
We Cover Thee—Sweet Face
We do not play on Graves
We don't cry—Tim and I
We dream—it is good we are dreaming
We Grow Accustomed to the Dark
We learned the Whole of Love
We like march, his shoes are purple,
We lose—because we win
We met as Sparks—Diverging Flints
We miss Her, not because We see
We outgrow love, like other things
We play at paste,
We pray-to Heaven
We see-Comparatively
We should not mind so small a flower
We talked as Girls do
We thirst at first—'tis Nature's Act
We—Bee and I—live by the quaffing
Went up a year this evening!
Wert Thou but ill—that I might show thee
What care the Dead, for Chanticleer
What did They do since I saw Them?
What I see not, I better see
What if I say I shall not wait!
What Inn is this
What is—
What shall I do when the Summer troubles
What shall I do—it whimpers so
What Soft—Cherubic Creatures
What would I give to see his face?
When Bells stop ringing—Church—begins
When Diamonds are a Legend
When I count the seeds
When I have seen the Sun emerge
When I hoped, I recollect
When Katie walks, this simple pair accompany her side
When Night is almost done
When One has given up One's life
When Roses cease to bloom, Sir
When the Astronomer stops seeking
When we stand on the tops of Things
Where bells no more affright the morn
Where I have lost, I softer tread
Where Ships of Purple—gently toss
Where Thou art—that—is Home
Whether my bark went down at sea
While Asters-
While it is alive
Who Court obtain within Himself
Who Giants know, with lesser Men
Who never lost, are unprepared
Who occupies this House?
Whose are the little beds, I asked
Whose cheek is this?
Why do I love You, Sir?
Why make it doubt—it hurts it so
Why-do they shut Me out of Heaven?
Wild Nights! Wild Nights!
Wild Nights-Wild Nights!
Will there really be a "Morning"?
With thee, in the Desert
Within my Garden, rides a Bird
Within my reach!
Without this—there is nought
Wolfe demanded during dying
Woodpecker, The
Would you like summer? Taste of ours
You cannot put a Fire out
You constituted Time
You know that Portrait in the Moon
You left me-Sire-two Legacies
You love me—you are sure
You love the Lord—you cannot see
You said that I
You see I cannot see—your lifetime
You taught me Waiting with Myself
You'll find—it when you try to die
You'll know Her—by Her Foot
You'll know it—as you know 'tis Noon
Your Riches—taught me—Poverty
You're right—
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