Poetry

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 …

Ghosts By  Emily Dickinson One need not be a chamber to be haunted, One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place. Far s…

May-Flower By  Emily Dickinson Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss, Known by the knoll, Next t…

The Outlet By  Emily Dickinson My river runs to thee: Blue sea, wilt welcome me? My river waits reply. Oh sea, look graciously! I'll fetch thee b…

The Woodpecker By  Emily Dickinson His bill an auger is,     His head, a cap and frill. He laboreth at every tree, —      A worm his utmost goal. Poe…

The Snow By  Emily Dickinson It sifts from leaden sieves, It powders all the wood, It fills with alabaster wool The wrinkles of the road. It makes an…

Death By  Emily Dickinson Death is like the insect     Menacing the tree, Competent to kill it,     But decoyed may be. Bait it with the balsam,     …

Dying By  Emily Dickinson I heard a fly buzz when I died;     The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air     Between the heaves of…

Joy in Death By  Emily Dickinson If tolling bell I ask the cause.     'A soul has gone to God,' I'm answered in a lonesome tone;     Is h…

Love's Humility By  Emily Dickinson My worthiness is all my doubt,     His merit all my fear, Contrasting which, my qualities     Do lowlier appe…

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'…

To March By  Emily Dickinson Dear March, come in! How glad I am! I looked for you before. Put down your hat —  You must have walked —  How out of bre…

The Funeral By  Emily Dickinson That short, potential stir That each can make but once, That bustle so illustrious 'T is almost consequence, Is t…

The Humming-Bird By  Emily Dickinson A route of evanescence With a revolving wheel; A resonance of emerald, A rush of cochineal; And every blossom on…

The Butterfly's Day By  Emily Dickinson From cocoon forth a butterfly As lady from her door Emerged — a summer afternoon —  Repairing everywhere,…