My first well Day - since many ill -
I asked to go abroad,
And take the Sunshine in my hands
And see the things in Pod -
A'blossom just - when I went in
To take my Chance with pain -
Uncertain if myself, or He,
Should prove the strongest One.
The Summer deepened, while we strove -
She put some flowers away -
And Redder cheeked Ones - in their stead -
A fond - illusive way -
To cheat Herself, it seemed she tried -
As if before a Child
To fade - Tomorrow - Rainbows held
The Sepulchre, could hide.
She dealt a fashion to the Nut -
She tied the Hoods to Seeds -
She dropped bright scraps of Tint, about -
And left Brazilian Threads
On every shoulder that she met -
Then both her Hands of Haze
Put up - to hide her parting Grace
From our unfitted eyes.
My loss, by sickness - Was it Loss?
Or that Ethereal Gain
One earns by measuring the Grave -
Then - measuring the Sun.
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...