Poems by Emily Dickinson

A something in a summer's day,
As slow her flambeaux burn away,
Which solemnizes me. ...

That I did always love,
I bring thee proof:
That till I loved
I did not love enough. ...

One dignity delays for all,
One mitred afternoon.
None can avoid this purple,
None evade thi...

I'm ceded, I've stopped being theirs;
The name they dropped upon my face
With water, in the ...

Through the straight pass of suffering
The martyrs even trod,
Their feet upon temptation,
Th...

Pink, small, and punctual,
Aromatic, low,
Covert in April,
Candid in May, Dear ...

Mine by the right of the white election!
Mine by the royal seal!
Mine by the sign in the scarle...

The mountain sat upon the plain
In his eternal chair,
His observation omnifold,
His inquest ...

Pain has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect
When it began, or if there were
A day when...

The nearest dream recedes, unrealized.
The heaven we chase
Like the June bee
Before the schoo...

The pedigree of honey
Does not concern the bee;
A clover, any time, to him
Is aristocracy.

I meant to have but modest needs,
Such as content, and heaven;
Within my income these could ...

God permits industrious angels
Afternoons to play.
I met one, -- forgot my school-mates,
All...

Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower?
But I could never sell.
If you would like to borrow
Until ...

Our share of night to bear,
Our share of morning,
Our blank in bliss to fill,
Our blank in ...