Poetry

Angels By  Emily Dickinson Angels in the early morning May be seen the dews among, Stooping, plucking, smiling, flying: Do the buds to them belong? A…

Precedence By  Emily Dickinson Wait till the majesty of Death Invests so mean a brow! Almost a powdered footman Might dare to touch it now! Wait till…

Parting By  Emily Dickinson My life closed twice before its close;     It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil     A third event to me, So huge, …

Evening By  Emily Dickinson The cricket sang, And set the sun, And workmen finished, one by one,     Their seam the day upon. The low grass loaded wi…

The Sea of Sunset By  Emily Dickinson This is the land the sunset washes, These are the banks of the Yellow Sea; Where it rose, or whither it rushes,…

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…

Indian Summer By  Emily Dickinson These are the days when birds come back, A very few, a bird or two, To take a backward look. These are the days whe…

Mine By  Emily Dickinson Mine by the right of the white election! Mine by the royal seal! Mine by the sign in the scarlet prison Bars cannot conceal!…

November By  Emily Dickinson Besides the autumn poets sing, A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of the haze. A few incisi…

Autumn By  Emily Dickinson The morns are meeker than they were, The nuts are getting brown; The berry's cheek is plumper, The rose is out of town…

Purple Clover By  Emily Dickinson There is a flower that bees prefer, And butterflies desire; To gain the purple democrat The humming-birds aspire. A…

By the Sea By  Emily Dickinson I started early, took my dog, And visited the sea; The mermaids in the basement Came out to look at me, And frigates i…

The Oriole By  Emily Dickinson One of the ones that Midas touched, Who failed to touch us all, Was that confiding prodigal, The blissful oriole. So d…

Summer's Obsequies By  Emily Dickinson The gentian weaves her fringes, The maple's loom is red. My departing blossoms Obviate parade. A brief…

Summer's Armies By  Emily Dickinson Some rainbow coming from the fair! Some vision of the world Cashmere I confidently see! Or else a peacock'…