A daily poem from the complete works of Emily Dickinson.
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Unit, like Death, for Whom?
True, like the Tomb,
Who tells no secret
Told to Him –
The Grave is strict –
Tickets admit
Just two — the Bearer –
And the Borne –
And seat — just One –
The Living — tell –
The Dying — but a Syllable –
The Coy Dead — None –
No Chatter — here — no tea –
So Babbler, and Bohea — stay there –
But Gravity — and Expectation — and Fear –
A tremor just, that All’s not sure.
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Tags: admit, babbler, bearer, bohea, borne, chatter, death, dying, expectation, fear, grave, gravity, living, one, seat, secret, stay, strict, syllable, tea, tickets, told, tomb, tremor, true, two, unit
If any sink, assure that this, now standing –
Failed like Themselves — and conscious that it rose –
Grew by the Fact, and not the Understanding
How Weakness passed — or Force — arose –
Tell that the Worst, is easy in a Moment –
Dread, but the Whizzing, before the Ball –
When the Ball enters, enters Silence –
Dying — annuls the power to kill.
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Tags: annuls, assure, ball, conscious, dread, dying, easy, enters, fact, failed, force, grew, kill, moment, passed, power, rose, silence, sink, standing, tell, themselves, understanding, weakness, whizzing, worst
‘Tis not that Dying hurts us so –
‘Tis Living — hurts us more –
But Dying — is a different way –
A Kind behind the Door –
The Southern Custom — of the Bird –
That ere the Frosts are due –
Accepts a better Latitude –
We — are the Birds — that stay.
The Shrivers round Farmers’ doors –
For whose reluctant Crumb –
We stipulate — till pitying Snows
Persuade our Feathers Home.
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Tags: accepts, behind, better, bird, birds, crumb, custom, different, door, doors, dying, farmers, feathers, frosts, home, hurts, kind, latitude, living, more, persuade, pitying, reluctant, shrivers, snows, southern, stay, stipulate
‘Tis so appalling—it exhilarates—
So over Horror, it half Captivates—
The Soul stares after it, secure—
A Sepulchre, fears frost, no more—
To scan a Ghost, is faint—
But grappling, conquers it—
How easy, Torment, now—
Suspense kept sawing so—
The Truth, is Bald, and Cold—
But that will hold—
If any are not sure—
We show them—prayer—
But we, who know,
Stop hoping, now—
Looking at Death, is Dying—
Just let go the Breath—
And not the pillow at your Cheek
So Slumbereth—
Others, Can wrestle—
Yours, is done—
And so of Woe, bleak dreaded—come,
It sets the Fright at liberty—
And Terror’s free—
Gay, Ghastly, Holiday!
Tags: appalling, bald, bleak, breath, captivates, cheek, cold, conquers, death, dreaded, dying, easy, exhilarates, faint, fears, free, fright, frost, gay, ghastly, ghost, grappling, hold, holiday, hoping, horror, liberty, looking, pillow, prayer, sawing, scan, secure, sepulchre, show, slumbereth, soul, stares, sure, suspense, terror, tormet, truth, woe, wrestle
It can’t be “Summer”!
That — got through!
It’s early — yet — for “Spring”!
There’s that long town of White — to cross –
Before the Blackbirds sing!
It can’t be “Dying”!
It’s too Rouge –
The Dead shall go in White –
So Sunset shuts my question down
With Cuffs of Chrysolite!
Tags: blackbirds, chrysolite, cross, cuffs, dead, dying, early, long, question, rouge, spring, summer, sunset, through, town, white
It can’t be “Summer”!
That — got through!
It’s early — yet — for “Spring”!
There’s that long town of White — to cross –
Before the Blackbirds sing!
It can’t be “Dying”!
It’s too Rouge –
The Dead shall go in White –
So Sunset shuts my question down
With Cuffs of Chrysolite!
Tags: bird, blackbirds, chrysolite, cross, cuffs, dead, dying, early, question, rouge, sing, spring, summer, sun, sunset, town, white
Dying! Dying in the night!
Won’t somebody bring the light
So I can see which way to go
Into the everlasting snow?
And “Jesus”! Where is Jesus gone?
They said that Jesus — always came –
Perhaps he doesn’t know the House –
This way, Jesus, Let him pass!
Somebody run to the great gate
And see if Dollie’s coming! Wait!
I hear her feet upon the stair!
Death won’t hurt — now Dollie’s here!
Tags: death, dollie, dying, everlasting, feet, gate, house, jesus, light, night, snow, stair
If this is “fading”
Oh let me immediately “fade”!
If this is “dying”
Bury me, in such a shroud of red!
If this is “sleep,”
On such a night
How proud to shut the eye!
Good Evening, gentle Fellow men!
Peacock presumes to die!
Tags: bury, die, dying, evening, eye, fade, fading, night, peacock, proud, red, shroud, shut, sleep
