Emily Dickinson: The Manner of it's Death When Certain it must die
The Manner of it's Death
When Certain it must die -
'Tis deemed a privilege to choose -
'Twas Major Andre's Way -
When Choice of Life - is past -
There yet remains a Love
It's little Fate to stipulate -
How small in those who live -
The Miracle to teaze
With Babble of the styles -
How "they are Dying mostly - now" -
And Customs at "St. James"!
Emily Dickinson
Pi� citazioni Emily Dickinson
Musicians wrestle everywhere -
All day - among the crowded air
I hear the silver strife -
And - waking - long before the morn -
Such transport breaks upon the town
I think it that "New life"...
No Notice gave She, but a Change -
No Message, but a Sigh -
For Whom, the Time did not suffice
That She should specify.
She was not warm, though Summer shone
Nor scrupulous of cold
Though Rime by Rime...
Within my Garden, rides a Bird
Upon a single Wheel -
Whose spokes a dizzy Music make
As 'twere a travelling Mill -
He never stops, but slackens
Above the Ripest Rose -
Partakes without alighting
And p...