I keep my pledge (by Emily Dickinson)
29 Monday Sep 2014
Posted 1800s, American, Dickinson (Emily), Poetry
in29 Monday Sep 2014
Posted 1800s, American, Dickinson (Emily), Poetry
in04 Thursday Sep 2014
Posted 1800s, American, Dickinson (Emily), Poetry
inThere’s something quieter than sleep
Within this inner room!
It wears a sprig upon its breast —
And will not tell its name.
Some touch it, and some kiss it —
Some chafe its idle hand —
It has a simple gravity
I do not understand!
I would not weep if I were they —
How rude in one to sob!
Might scare the quiet fairy
Back to her native wood!
While simple-hearted neighbors
Chat of the “Early dead” —
We — prone to periphrasis
Remark that Birds have fled!
[1859]
13 Friday Jun 2014
Posted 1800s, American, Dickinson (Emily), Poetry
in
[1859]
My wheel is in the dark!
I cannot see a spoke
Yet know its dripping feet
Go round and round.
My foot is on the Tide!
An unfrequented road –
Yet have all roads
A clearing at the end –
Some have resigned the Loom –
Some in the busy tomb
Find quaint employ –
Some with new – stately feet –
Pass royal through the gate –
Flinging the problem back
At you and I!
*
04 Wednesday Jun 2014
Posted 1800s, American, Dickinson (Emily), Poetry
in01 Thursday May 2014
Posted 1800s, American, Dickinson (Emily), Poetry
in
Emily Dickinson
[1859]
Could live — did live —
Could die — did die —
Could smile opon the whole
Through faith in one he met not —
To introduce his soul —
Could go from scene familiar
To an untraversed spot —
Could contemplate the journey
With unpuzzled heart —
Such trust had one among us,
Among us not today —
We who saw the launching
Never sailed the Bay!
29 Tuesday Apr 2014
Posted 1800s, American, Dickinson (Emily), Poetry
in
Emily Dickinson
[1859]
A Day! Help! Help!
Another Day!
Your prayers — Oh Passer by!
From such a common ball as this
Might date a Victory!
From marshallings as simple
The flags of nations swang.
Steady — my soul! What issues
Upon thine arrow hang!
26 Saturday Apr 2014
Posted 1800s, American, Dickinson (Emily), Poetry
inWho robbed the Woods —
Emily Dickinson
[1859]
The trusting Woods?
The unsuspecting Trees
Brought out their Burs and Mosses —
His fantasy to please –
He scanned their trinkets — curious –
He grasped — he bore away –
What will the solemn Hemlock —
What will the Fir-tree — say?
*
23 Wednesday Apr 2014
Posted 1800s, American, Dickinson (Emily), Poetry
inI’ve got an arrow here.
Emily Dickinson
[1859]
Loving the hand that sent it
I the dart revere.
Fell, they will say, in “skirmish”!
Vanquished, my soul will know
By but a simple arrow
Sped by an archer’s bow.
*
15 Tuesday Apr 2014
Posted 1800s, American, Dickinson (Emily), Poetry
inTo venerate the simple days
Emily Dickinson
[1859]
Which lead the seasons by–
Needs but to remember
That from you or I,
They may take the trifle
Termed mortality!
To invest existence with a stately air–
Needs but to remember
That the Acorn there
Is the egg of forests
For the upper Air!
*
08 Tuesday Apr 2014
Posted 1800s, American, Dickinson (Emily), Poetry
in“Lethe” in my flower,
Emily Dickinson
[1859]
Of which they who drink,
In the fadeless Orchards
Hear the bobolink!
Merely flake or petal
As the Eye beholds
Jupiter! my father!
I perceive the rose!
*