Poetry

Old-Fashioned By  Emily Dickinson Arcturus is his other name, —  I'd rather call him star! It's so unkind of science To go and interfere! I p…

My Rose By  Emily Dickinson Pigmy seraphs gone astray, Velvet people from Vevay, Belles from some lost summer day, Bees' exclusive coterie. Paris…

Asleep By  Emily Dickinson As far from pity as complaint,     As cool to speech as stone, As numb to revelation     As if my trade were bone. As far …

Problems By  Emily Dickinson Bring me the sunset in a cup, Reckon the morning's flagons up,     And say how many dew; Tell me how far the morning…

Forgotten By  Emily Dickinson There is a word     Which bears a sword     Can pierce an armed man. It hurls its barbed syllables, —      At once is m…

Unwarned By  Emily Dickinson 'T is sunrise, little maid, hast thou     No station in the day? 'T was not thy wont to hinder so, —      Retrie…

Ventures By  Emily Dickinson Finite to fail, but infinite to venture.     For the one ship that struts the shore Many's the gallant, overwhelmed …

A Rose By  Emily Dickinson A sepal, petal, and a thorn     Upon a common summer's morn, A flash of dew, a bee or two, A breeze A caper in the tre…

Satisfied By  Emily Dickinson One blessing had I, than the rest     So larger to my eyes That I stopped gauging, satisfied,     For this enchanted si…

Saturday Afternoon By  Emily Dickinson From all the jails the boys and girls     Ecstatically leap, —  Beloved, only afternoon     That prison doesn&…

April By  Emily Dickinson An altered look about the hills; A Tyrian light the village fills; A wider sunrise in the dawn; A deeper twilight on the la…

Summer Shower By  Emily Dickinson A drop fell on the apple tree, Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A f…