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Emily Dickinson, fully Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

(1830 - 1886)

Biography:

American Poet

Quotes
"Heaven" has different Signs—to me— Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn, A mighty look runs round the World And settles in the Hills— An Awe if it should be like that Upon the Ignorance steals— The Orchard, when the Sun is on— The Triumph of the Birds When they together Victory make— Some Carnivals of Clouds— The Rapture of a finished Day— Returning to the West— All these—remind us of the place That Men call "paradise"— Itself be fairer—we suppose— But how Ourself, shall be Adorned, for a Superior Grace— Not yet, our eyes can see—
"Heaven" has different Signs—to me— Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn, A mighty look runs round the World And settles in the Hills— An Awe if it should be like that Upon the Ignorance steals— The Orchard, when the Sun is on— The Triumph of the Birds When they together Victory make— Some Carnivals of Clouds— The Rapture of a finished Day— Returning to the West— All these—remind us of the place That Men call "paradise"— Itself be fairer—we suppose— But how Ourself, shall be Adorned, for a Superior Grace— Not yet, our eyes can see—
"Heaven"—is what I cannot reach! The Apple on the Tree— Provided it do hopeless—hang— That—"He aven" is—to Me! The Color, on the Cruising Cloud— The interdicted Land— Behind the Hill—the House behind— There—Paradise—is found! Her teasing Purples—Afternoons— The credulous—decoy— Enamored—of the Conjuror— That spurned us—Yesterday!
"Hope" is the thing with feathers— That perches in the soul— And sings the tune without the words— And never stops—at all— And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard— And sore must be the storm— That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm— I've heard it in the chillest land— And on the strangest Sea— Yet, never, in Extremity, It asked a crumb—of Me.
"I want"—it pleaded—All its life— I want—was chief it said When Skill entreated it—the last— And when so newly dead— I could not deem it late—to hear That single—steadfast sigh— The lips had placed as with a "Please" Toward Eternity
"I want"—it pleaded—All its life— I want—was chief it said When Skill entreated it—the last— And when so newly dead— I could not deem it late—to hear That single—steadfast sigh— The lips had placed as with a "Please" Toward Eternity—
A Bird came down the Walk – he did not know I saw – he bit an Angleworm in halves and ate the fellow, raw, and then he drank a Dew from a convenient Grass – and then hopped sidewise to the Wall to let a Beetle pass.
A charm invests a face imperfectly beheld,—the lady dare not lift her veil for fear it be dispelled. But peers beyond her mesh, and wishes, and denies,— lest interview annul a want that image satisfies.
A Cloud withdrew from the Sky Superior Glory be But that Cloud and its Auxiliaries Are forever lost to me Had I but further scanned Had I secured the Glow In an Hermetic Memory It had availed me now. Never to pass the Angel With a glance and a Bow Till I am firm in Heaven Is my intention now.
A great hope fell, you heard no noise, the ruin was within.