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Emily Dickinson – Patience
Patience—has a quiet Outer—
Patience—Look within—
Is an Insect’s futile forces
Infinites—between—
‘Scaping one—against the other
Fruitlesser to fling—
Patience—is the Smile’s exertion
Through the quivering—
~ Emily Dickinson
Because I could not stop for Death by Emily Dickinson
Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.
We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –
We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –
Or rather – He passed us –
The Dews drew quivering and chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –
We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –
Since then – ‘tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
Were toward Eternity –
There is another sky by Emily Dickinson
There is another sky,
Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields –
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
Into my garden come!
Quote about Beauty by Emily Dickinson
“Beauty is not caused. It is.” – Emily Dickinson
I hide myself within my flower by Emily Dickinson
I hide myself within my flower,
That wearing on your breast,
You, unsuspecting, wear me too—
And angels know the rest.
I hide myself within my flower,
That, fading from your vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me
Almost a loneliness.
I hide myself within my flower
A Wounded Deer — leaps highest by Emily Dickinson
A Wounded Deer — leaps highest —
I’ve heard the Hunter tell —
‘Tis but the Ecstasy of death —
And then the Brake is still!
The Smitten Rock that gushes!
The trampled Steel that springs!
A Cheek is always redder
Just where the Hectic stings!
Mirth is the Mail of Anguish
In which it Cautious Arm,
Lest anybody spy the blood
And “you’re hurt” exclaim!
A Wounded Deer — leaps highest by Emily Dickinson