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The soul unto itselfIs an imperial friend, –Or the most agonizing spyAn enemy could send. Secure against its own,No treason it can fear;Itself its sovereign, of itselfThe soul should stand in awe. – The soul unto itself by Emily Dickinson
“How strange that nature does not knock, and yet does not intrude!” Emily Dickinson
If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain. If I can ease one life the aching, Or cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin Unto his nest again, I shall not live in vain. – Emily Dickinson
Read, sweet, how others strove,Till we are stouter;What they renounced,Till we are less afraid;How many times they boreThe faithful witness,Till we are helped,As if a kingdom cared! Read then of faithThat shone above the fagot;Clear strains of hymnThe river could not drown;Brave names of menAnd celestial women,Passed out of recordInto renown! – THE BOOK OF [...]
“Forever is composed of nows.” – Emily Dickinson
I think just how my shape will riseWhen I shall be forgiven,Till hair and eyes and timid headAre out of sight, in heaven. I think just how my lips will weighWith shapeless, quivering prayerThat you, so late, consider me,The sparrow of your care. I mind me that of anguish sent,Some drifts were moved awayBefore my [...]
I know some lonely houses off the roadA robber ‘d like the look of, –Wooden barred,And windows hanging low,Inviting toA portico,Where two could creep:One hand the tools,The other peepTo make sure all’s asleep.Old-fashioned eyes,Not easy to surprise! How orderly the kitchen ‘d look by night,With just a clock, –But they could gag the tick,And mice [...]
That it will never come again is what makes life so sweet.- Emily Dickinson
No brigadier throughout the yearSo civic as the jay.A neighbor and a warrior too,With shrill felicity Pursuing winds that censure usA February day,The brother of the universeWas never blown away. The snow and he are intimate;I ‘ve often seen them playWhen heaven looked upon us allWith such severity, I felt apology were dueTo an insulted [...]
I held a jewel in my fingersAnd went to sleep.The day was warm, and winds were prosy;I said: ‘T will keep. I woke and chid my honest fingers, –The gem was gone;And now an amethyst remembranceIs all I own. – THE LOST JEWEL – I held a jewel in my fingers by Emily Dickinson