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").
Woodpecker, The
His bill an auger is,His head, a cap and frill.He laboreth at every tree,--A worm his utmost goal.
© Emily Dickinson
The Bible Is An Antique Volume
1545The Bible is an antique Volume—Written by faded menAt the suggestion of Holy Spectres—Subjects—Bethlehem—Eden—the ancient Homestead—Satan—the..
© Emily Dickinson
If I Shouldn'T Be Alive
182If I shouldn't be aliveWhen the Robins come,Give the one in Red Cravat,A Memorial crumb.If I couldn't thank you,Being fast asleep,You will know..
© Emily Dickinson
The Skies Can'T Keep Their Secret!
191The Skies can't keep their secret!They tell it to the Hills—The Hills just tell the Orchards—And they—the Daffodils!A Bird—by chance—that goes..
© Emily Dickinson
The First Day's Night Had Come
410The first Day's Night had come—And grateful that a thingSo terrible—had been endured—I told my Soul to sing—She said her Strings were snapt—Her..
© Emily Dickinson
God Permit Industrious Angels
God permit industrious angelsAfternoons to play.I met one, -- forgot my school-mates,All, for him, straightaway.God calls home the angels promptlyAt..
© Emily Dickinson
He Touched Me, So I Live To Know
506He touched me, so I live to knowThat such a day, permitted so,I groped upon his breast—It was a boundless place to meAnd silenced, as the awful..
© Emily Dickinson
Make Me A Picture Of The Sun
188Make me a picture of the sun—So I can hang it in my room—And make believe I'm getting warmWhen others call it "Day"!Draw me a Robin—on a stem—So I..
© Emily Dickinson
If Those I Loved Were Lost
29If those I loved were lostThe Crier's voice would tell me—If those I loved were foundThe bells of Ghent would ring—Did those I loved reposeThe..
© Emily Dickinson
When Roses Cease To Bloom, Sir
32When Roses cease to bloom, Sir,And Violets are done—When Bumblebees in solemn flightHave passed beyond the Sun—The hand that paused to gatherUpon..
© Emily Dickinson
I Had A Guinea Golden
23I had a guinea golden—I lost it in the sand—And tho' the sum was simpleAnd pounds were in the land—Still, had it such a valueUnto my frugal..
© Emily Dickinson
This Consciousness That Is Aware
822This Consciousness that is awareOf Neighbors and the SunWill be the one aware of DeathAnd that itself aloneIs traversing the intervalExperience..
© Emily Dickinson
I Fear A Man Of Frugal Speech
543I fear a Man of frugal Speech—I fear a Silent Man—Haranguer—I can overtake—Or Babbler—entertain—But He who weigheth—While the Rest—Expend their..
© Emily Dickinson
I Learned—at Least—what Home Could Be
944I learned—at least—what Home could be—How ignorant I had beenOf pretty ways of Covenant—How awkward at the HymnRound our new Fireside—but for..
© Emily Dickinson
I Watched The Moon Around The House
I watched the Moon around the HouseUntil upon a Pane --She stopped -- a Traveller's privilege -- for Rest --And there uponI gazed -- as at a stranger..
© Emily Dickinson
I Know Where Wells Grow—droughtless Wells
460I know where Wells grow—Droughtless Wells—Deep dug—for Summer days—Where Mosses go no more away—And Pebble—safely plays—It's made of Fathoms—and a..
© Emily Dickinson
The Brain, Within Its Groove
556The Brain, within its GrooveRuns evenly—and true—But let a Splinter swerve—'Twere easier for You—To put a Current back—When Floods have slit the..
© Emily Dickinson
I Can'T Tell You—but You Feel It
65I can't tell you—but you feel it—Nor can you tell me—Saints, with ravished slate and pencilSolve our April Day!Sweeter than a vanished frolicFrom a..
© Emily Dickinson
My Nosegays Are For Captives
My nosegays are for captives;Dim, long-expectant eyes,Fingers denied the plucking,Patient till paradise.To such, if they should whisperOf morning and..
© Emily Dickinson
The Color Of The Grave Is Green
411The Color of the Grave is Green—The Outer Grave—I mean—You would not know it from the Field—Except it own a Stone—To help the fond—to find it—Too..
© Emily Dickinson
The Daisy Follows Soft The Sun
106The Daisy follows soft the Sun—And when his golden walk is done—Sits shyly at his feet—He—waking—finds the flower there—Wherefore—Marauder—art..
© Emily Dickinson
The Robin's My Criterion For Tune
285The Robin's my Criterion for Tune—Because I grow—where Robins do—But, were I Cuckoo born—I'd swear by him—The ode familiar—rules the Noon—The..
© Emily Dickinson
Would You Like Summer? Taste Of Ours
691Would you like summer? Taste of ours.Spices? Buy here!Ill! We have berries, for the parching!Weary! Furloughs of down!Perplexed! Estates of violet..
© Emily Dickinson
There Came A Day At Summer's Full
322There came a Day at Summer's full,Entirely for me—I thought that such were for the Saints,Where Resurrections—be—The Sun, as common, went..
© Emily Dickinson
Love&Mdash;Thou Art High
453Love—thou art high—I cannot climb thee—But, were it Two—Who know but we—Taking turns—at the Chimborazo—Ducal—at last—stand up by thee—Love—thou..
© Emily Dickinson