Journey 2 Being

(139)

THE face we choose to miss,
Be it but for a day—
As absent as a hundred years
When it has rode away.

-Emily Dickinson

(138)

SAFE Despair it is that raves,
Agony is frugal,
Puts itself severe away
For its own perusal.
Garrisoned no Soul can be
In the front of Trouble,
Love is one, not aggregate,
Nor is Dying double.

-Emily Dickinson

(137)

JUST so, Jesus raps—He does not weary—
Last at the knocker and first at the bell,
Then on divinest tiptoe standing
Might He out-spy the lady’s soul.
When He retires, chilled and weary—
It will be ample time for me;
Patient, upon the steps, until then—
Heart, I am knocking low at Thee!

-Emily Dickinson

(136)

A LITTLE overflowing word

That any hearing had inferred

For ardor or for tears,

Though generations pass away,

Traditions ripen and decay,

As eloquent appears.

-Emily Dickinson

(135)

THE incidents of Love
Are more than its Events,
Investments best expositor
Is the minute per cents.

-Emily Dickinson

(134)

THAT she forgot me was the least,
I felt it second pain,
That I was worthy to forget
What most I thought upon.


Faithful, was all that I could boast,
But Constancy became,
To her, by her innominate,
A something like a shame.

-Emily Dickinson

(133)

HAD this one day not been,
Or could it cease to be—
How smitten, how superfluous
Were every other day!


Lest Love should value less
What Loss would value more,
Had it the stricken privilege—
It cherishes before.

-Emily Dickinson

(132)

SO set its sun in thee,
What day is dark to me—
What distance far,
So I the ships may see
That touch how seldomly
Thy shore?

-Emily Dickinson

(131)

TO see her is a picture,
To hear her is a tune,
To know her an intemperance
As innocent as June;
By which to be undone
Is dearer than Redemption—
Which never to receive,
Makes mockery of melody
It might have been to live.

-Emily Dickinson

(130)

NO matter where the Saints abide,
They make their circuit fair;
Behold how great a Firmament
Accompanies a star!

-Emily Dickinson