Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
Of All The Sounds Despatched Abroad
321Of all the Sounds despatched abroad,There's not a Charge to meLike that old measure in the Boughs—That phraseless Melody—The Wind does—working..
© Emily Dickinson
In Falling Timbers Buried
614In falling Timbers buried—There breathed a Man—Outside—the spades—were plying—The Lungs—within—Could He—know—they sought Him—Could They—know—He..
© Emily Dickinson
Once More, My Now Bewildered Dove
48Once more, my now bewildered DoveBestirs her puzzled wingsOnce more her mistress, on the deepHer troubled question flings—Thrice to the floating..
© Emily Dickinson
Tho' I Get Home How Late—how Late
207Tho' I get home how late—how late—So I get home - 'twill compensate—Better will be the EcstasyThat they have done expecting me—When..
© Emily Dickinson
Morning—means
"Morning"—means "Milking"—to the Farmer—Dawn—to the Teneriffe—Dice—to the Maid—Morning means just Risk—to the Lover—Just revelation—to the..
© Emily Dickinson
The Missing All—prevented Me
985The Missing All—prevented MeFrom missing minor Things.If nothing larger than a World'sDeparture from a Hinge—Or Sun's extinction, be..
© Emily Dickinson
She Died At Play
75She died at play,Gambolled awayHer lease of spotted hours,Then sank as gaily as a TurnUpon a Couch of flowers.Her ghost strolled softly o'er the..
© Emily Dickinson
The Gentian Weaves Her Fringes
18The Gentian weaves her fringes—The Maple's loom is red—My departing blossomsObviate parade.A brief, but patient illness—An hour to prepare,And one..
© Emily Dickinson
I Make His Crescent Fill Or Lack
909I make His Crescent fill or lack—His Nature is at FullOr Quarter—as I signify—His Tides—do I control—He holds superior in the SkyOr gropes, at my..
© Emily Dickinson
My Eye Is Fuller Than My Vase
202My Eye is fuller than my vase—Her Cargo—is of Dew—And still—my Heart—my Eye outweighs—East India—for you!
© Emily Dickinson
Where Ships Of Purple—gently Toss
265Where Ships of Purple—gently toss—On Seas of Daffodil—Fantastic Sailors—mingle—And then—the Wharf is still!
© Emily Dickinson
She Dwelleth In The Ground
671She dwelleth in the Ground—Where Daffodils—abide—Her Maker—Her Metropolis—The Universe—Her Maid—To fetch Her Grace—and Hue—And Fairness—and..
© Emily Dickinson
This Is A Blossom Of The Brain
945This is a Blossom of the Brain—A small—italic SeedLodged by Design or HappeningThe Spirit fructified—Shy as the Wind of his ChambersSwift as a..
© Emily Dickinson
How Well I Knew Her Not
837How well I knew Her notWhom not to know has beenA Bounty in prospective, nowNext Door to mine the Pain.
© Emily Dickinson
Perhaps I Asked Too Large
Perhaps I asked too large --I take -- no less than skies --For Earths, grow thick asBerries, in my native town --My Basked holds -- just ..
© Emily Dickinson
I Often Passed The Village
51I often passed the villageWhen going home from school—And wondered what they did there—And why it was so still—I did not know the year then—In..
© Emily Dickinson
The Future—never Spoke
672The Future—never spoke—Nor will He—like the Dumb—Reveal by sign—a syllableOf His Profound To Come—But when the News be ripe—Presents it—in the..
© Emily Dickinson
They Called Me To The Window, For
628They called me to the Window, for" 'Twas Sunset"—Some one said—I only saw a Sapphire Farm—And just a Single Herd—Of Opal Cattle—feeding farUpon so..
© Emily Dickinson
His Heart Was Darker Than The Starless Night
His Heart was darker than the starless nightFor that there is a mornBut in this black ReceptacleCan be no Bode of Dawn
© Emily Dickinson
He Who In Himself Believes
969He who in Himself believes—Fraud cannot presume—Faith is Constancy's Result—And assumes—from Home—Cannot perish, though it failEvery second..
© Emily Dickinson
Whose Pink career may have a close
Whose Pink career may have a closePortentous as our own, who knows?To imitate these Neighbors fleetIn awe and innocence, were meet.
© Emily Dickinson
She Lay As If At Play
369She lay as if at playHer life had leaped away—Intending to return—But not so soon—Her merry Arms, half dropt—As if for lull of sport—An instant..
© Emily Dickinson
Smiling Back From Coronation
385Smiling back from CoronationMay be Luxury—On the Heads that started with us—Being's Peasantry—Recognizing in ProcessionOnes We former knew—When..
© Emily Dickinson
Like Flowers, That Heard The News Of Dews
513Like Flowers, that heard the news of Dews,But never deemed the dripping prizeAwaited their—low Brows—Or Bees—that thought the Summer's nameSome..
© Emily Dickinson
My Wheel Is In The Dark
10My wheel is in the dark!I cannot see a spokeYet know its dripping feetGo round and round.My foot is on the Tide!An unfrequented road—Yet have all..
© Emily Dickinson