(19) THERE is another Loneliness That many die without, Not want or friend occasions it, Or circumstances or lot. But nature sometimes, sometimes thought, And whoso it befall Is richer than could be divulged By mortal numeral.
-Emily Dickinson
THERE is another Loneliness
(18) THERE is another Loneliness That many die without, Not want or friend occasions it, Or circumstances or lot. But nature sometimes, sometimes thought, And whoso it befall Is richer than could be divulged By mortal numeral.
-Emily Dickinson
MY Wheel is in the dark
(17) 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.
-Emily Dickinson
THE blunder is to estimate
(16) THE blunder is to estimate,— “Eternity is Then,” We say, as of a station. Meanwhile he is so near, He joins me in my ramble, Divides abode with me, No friend have I that so persists As this Eternity.
-Emily Dickinson
NO other can reduce
(15) NO other can reduce Our mortal consequence, Like the remembering it be nought A period from hence. But contemplation for Cotemporaneous nought Our single competition; Jehovah’s estimate.
-Emily Dickinson
PERCEPTION of an object costs
(14) PERCEPTION of an Object costs Precise the Object’s loss. Perception in itself a gain Replying to its price; The Object Absolute is nought, Perception sets it fair, And then upbraids a Perfectness That situates so far.
-Emily Dickinson
IF what we could were what we would
(13) IF what we could were what we would— Criterion be small; It is the Ultimate of talk The impotence to tell.
-Emily Dickinson
NO romance sold unto
(12) NO romance sold unto, Could so enthrall a man As the perusal of His individual one. ’T is fiction’s, to dilute To plausibility Our novel, when ’t is small enough To credit,—’t isn’t true!
-Emily Dickinson
EXHILARATION is the Breeze
(11) EXHILARATION is the Breeze That lifts us from the ground, And leaves us in another place Whose statement is not found; Returns us not, but after time We soberly descend, A little newer for the term Upon enchanted ground.
-Emily Dickinson
WITCHCRAFT has not a pedigree
(10) WITCHCRAFT has not a pedigree, ’T is early as our breath, And mourners meet it going out The moment of our death.
-Emily Dickinson