Why make it doubt - it hurts it so -
So sick - to guess -
So strong - to know -
So brave - upon it's little Bed
To tell the very last They said
Unto Itself - and smile - And shake -
For that dear - distant - dangerous - Sake -
But - the Instead - the Pinching fear
That Something - it did do - or dare -
Offend the Vision - and it flee -
And They no more remember me -
Nor ever turn to tell me why -
Oh, Master, This is Misery.
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...