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This Tumblog is a serialization of Emily Dickinson’s Poems powered by DailyLit. Follow this Tumblog and each day you’ll get one of Dickinson’s great poems. The fun starts on Tuesday, March 30, but the countdown is ON. Hope you’ll read with us! You can help us spread the word by recommending this Tumblog for inclusion in Tumblr’s Books Directory. We think the more people we have reading together the more fun we’ll all have.
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poem sayings poem-fun
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Hinzugefügt am 15.04.2010 - 22:51:40 von bookmarkfavorit
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http://dickinson.dailylit.com/
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RSS-Feed - Einträge
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LIX.ETERNITY.On this wondrous sea,Sailing silently, Ho! pilot, ho!Knowest thou the shoreWhere no breakers roar, Where the storm is o’er?In the silent westMany sails at rest, Their anchors fast;Thither I pilot thee, —Land, ho! Eternity! Ashore at last!
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14.12.2011 - 18:00:16
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http://dickinson.dailylit.com/post/14219118969
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LVIII.RETROSPECT.‘T was just this time last year I died. I know I heard the corn,When I was carried by the farms, — It had the tassels on.I thought how yellow it would look When Richard went to mill;And then I wanted to get out, But something held my will.I thought just how red apples wedged The stubble’s joints between;And carts went stooping round the fields To take the pumpkins in.I wondered which would miss me least, And when Thanksgiving came,If father’d multiply the plates To make an even sum.And if my stocking hung too high, Would it blur the Christmas glee,That not a Santa Claus could reach The altitude of me?But this sort grieved myself, and so I thought how it would beWhen just this time, some perfect year, Themselves should come to me.
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13.12.2011 - 18:00:11
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http://dickinson.dailylit.com/post/14170543634
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LVII.SLEEPING.A long, long sleep, a famous sleep That makes no show for dawnBy stretch of limb or stir of lid, — An independent one.Was ever idleness like this? Within a hut of stoneTo bask the centuries away Nor once look up for noon?
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12.12.2011 - 18:00:11
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http://dickinson.dailylit.com/post/14121207386
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LVI.Far from love the Heavenly Father Leads the chosen child;Oftener through realm of briar Than the meadow mild,Oftener by the claw of dragon Than the hand of friend,Guides the little one predestined To the native land.
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09.12.2011 - 18:00:12
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http://dickinson.dailylit.com/post/13972292773
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LV.A toad can die of light!Death is the common right Of toads and men, —Of earl and midgeThe privilege. Why swagger then?The gnat’s supremacyIs large as thine.
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08.12.2011 - 18:00:10
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http://dickinson.dailylit.com/post/13925221912
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LIV.CHARLOTTE BRONTE’S GRAVE.All overgrown by cunning moss, All interspersed with weed,The little cage of ‘Currer Bell,’ In quiet Haworth laid.This bird, observing others, When frosts too sharp became,Retire to other latitudes, Quietly did the same,But differed in returning; Since Yorkshire hills are green,Yet not in all the nests I meet Can nightingale be seen.Gathered from many wanderings, Gethsemane can tellThrough what transporting anguish She reached the asphodel!Soft fall the sounds of Eden Upon her puzzled ear;Oh, what an afternoon for heaven, When ‘Bronte’ entered there!
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07.12.2011 - 18:00:14
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http://dickinson.dailylit.com/post/13877165590
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LIII.A clock stopped
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06.12.2011 - 18:00:12
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http://dickinson.dailylit.com/post/13830316438
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LII.THIRST.We thirst at first,
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05.12.2011 - 18:00:12
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http://dickinson.dailylit.com/post/13783017613
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