This Dust, and its Feature — (Emily Dickinson Poem)
This Dust, and its Feature -- Accredited -- Today -- Will in a second Future -- Cease to identify -- ...
This Dust, and its Feature -- Accredited -- Today -- Will in a second Future -- Cease to identify -- ...
This is a Blossom of the Brain -- A small -- italic Seed Lodged by Design or Happening The Spirit ...
This is the place they hoped before, Where I am hoping now. The seed of disappointment grew Within a capsule ...
This Me -- that walks and works -- must die, Some fair or stormy Day, Adversity if it may be ...
They won't frown always -- some sweet Day When I forget to tease -- They'll recollect how cold I looked ...
This Bauble was preferred of Bees -- By Butterflies admired At Heavenly -- Hopeless Distances -- Was justified of Bird ...
This Consciousness that is aware Of Neighbors and the Sun Will be the one aware of Death And that itself ...
This dirty -- little -- Heart Is freely mine. I won it with a Bun -- A Freckled shrine -- ...
This docile one inter While we who dare to live Arraign the sunny brevity That sparkled to the Grave. On ...
They leave us with the Infinite. But He -- is not a man -- His fingers are the size of ...
They put Us far apart -- As separate as Sea And Her unsown Peninsula -- We signified "These see" -- ...
They say that "Time assuages" -- Time never did assuage -- An actual suffering strengthens As Sinews do, with age ...
They shut me up in Prose -- As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet -- Because ...
They talk as slow as Legends grow No mushroom is their mind But foliage of sterility Too stolid for the ...
They called me to the Window, for " 'Twas Sunset" -- Some one said -- I only saw a Sapphire ...
They have a little Odor -- that to me Is metre -- nay -- 'tis melody -- And spiciest at ...
These Strangers, in a foreign World, Protection asked of me -- Befriend them, lest Yourself in Heaven Be found a ...
These tested Our Horizon -- Then disappeared As Birds before achieving A Latitude. Our Retrospection of Them A fixed Delight, ...
They ask but our Delight -- The Darlings of the Soil And grant us all their Countenance For a penurious ...
These are the days that Reindeer love And pranks the Northern star -- This is the Sun's objective, And Finland ...
These are the Nights that Beetles love -- From Eminence remote Drives ponderous perpendicular His figure intimate The terror of ...
These are the Signs to Nature's Inns -- Her invitation broad To Whosoever famishing To taste her mystic Bread -- ...
These Fevered Days -- to take them to the Forest Where Waters cool around the mosses crawl -- And shade ...
These held their Wick above the West -- Till when the Red declined -- Or how the Amber aided it ...
There is another Loneliness That many die without -- Not want of friend occasions it Or circumstances of Lot But ...
There is strength in proving that it can be borne Although it tear -- What are the sinews of such ...
There's the Battle of Burgoyne -- Over, every Day, By the Time that Man and Beast Put their work away ...
These -- saw Visions -- Latch them softly -- These -- held Dimples -- Smooth them slow -- This -- ...
There is an arid Pleasure -- As different from Joy -- As Frost is different from Dew -- Like element ...
There is a pain -- so utter -- It swallows substance up -- Then covers the Abyss with Trance -- ...
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