Life of Emily Dickinson
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Works -- Part 4: Time and Eternity
Part Four: Time and Eternity
One dignity delays for all
Delayed till she had ceased to know
Departed to the judgment
Safe in their alabaster chambers
On this long storm the rainbow rose
My cocoon tightens, colors tease
Exultation is the going
Look back on time with kindly eyes
A train went through a burial gate
I died for beauty, but was scarce
How many times these low feet staggered
I like a look of agony
That short, potential stir
I went to thank her
I ’ve seen a dying eye
The clouds their backs together laid
I never saw a moor
God permits industrious angels
To know just how he suffered would be dear
The last night that she lived
Not in this world to see his face
The bustle in a house
I reason, earth is short
Afraid? Of whom am I afraid
?
The sun kept setting, setting still
Two swimmers wrestled on the spar
Because I could not stop for Death
She went as quiet as the dew
At last to be identified
!
Except to heaven, she is nought
Death is a dialogue between
It was too late for man
When I was small, a woman died
The daisy follows soft the sun
No rack can torture me
I lost a world the other day
If I should n’t be alive
Sleep is supposed to be
I shall know why, when time is over
I never lost as much but twice
Let down the bars, O Death
!
Going to heaven
!
At least to pray is left, is left
Step lightly on this narrow spot
!
Morns like these we parted
A death-blow is a life-blow to some
I read my sentence steadily
I have not told my garden yet
They dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars
The only ghost I ever saw
Some, too fragile for winter winds
As by the dead we love to sit
Death sets a thing significant
I went to heaven
Their height in heaven comforts not
There is a shame of nobleness
A triumph may be of several kinds
Pompless no life can pass away
I noticed people disappeared
I had no cause to be awake
If anybody’s friend be dead
Our journey had advanced
Ample make this bed
On such a night, or such a night
Essential oils are wrung
I lived on dread; to those who know
If I should die
Her final summer was it
One need not be a chamber to be haunted
She died,—this was the way she died
Wait till the majesty of Death
Went up a year this evening
!
Taken from men this morning
What inn is this
It was not death, for I stood up
I should not dare to leave my friend
Great streets of silence led away
A throe upon the features
Of tribulation these are they
I think just how my shape will rise
After a hundred years
Lay this laurel on the one
This world is not conclusion
We learn in the retreating
They say that ‘time assuages
’
We cover thee, sweet face
That is solemn we have ended
The stimulus, beyond the grave
Given in marriage unto thee
That such have died enables us
They won’t frown always—some sweet day
’
T is an honorable thought
The distance that the dead have gone
How dare the robins sing
Death is like the insect
’
T is sunrise, little maid, hast thou
Each that we lose takes part of us
Not any higher stands the grave
As far from pity as complaint
’
T is whiter than an Indian pipe
She laid her docile crescent down
Bless God, he went as soldiers
Immortal is an ample word
Where every bird is bold to go
The grave my little cottage is
This was in the white of the year
Sweet hours have perished here
Me! Come! My dazzled face
From use she wandered now a year
I wish I knew that woman’s name
Bereaved of all, I went abroad
I felt a funeral in my brain
I meant to find her when I came
I sing to use the waiting
A sickness of this world it most occasions
Superfluous were the sun
So proud she was to die
Tie the strings to my life, my Lord
The dying need but little, dear
There ’s something quieter than sleep
The soul should always stand ajar
Three weeks passed since I had seen her
I breathed enough to learn the trick
I wonder if the sepulchre
If tolling bell I ask the cause
If I may have it when it ’s dead
Before the ice is in the pools
I heard a fly buzz when I died
Adrift! A little boat adrift
!
There’s been a death in the opposite house
We never know we go,—when we are going
It struck me every day
Water is taught by thirst
We thirst at first,—’t is Nature’s act
A clock stopped—not the mantel’s
All overgrown by cunning moss
A toad can die of light
!
Far from love the Heavenly Father
A long, long sleep, a famous sleep
’
T was just this time last year I died
On this wondrous sea
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