Tag Archives: foot

Through the Dark Sod — as Education –

Through the Dark Sod -- as Education --Through the Dark Sod — as Education —
The Lily passes sure —
Feels her white foot — no trepidation —
Her faith — no fear —

Afterward — in the Meadow —
Swinging her Beryl Bell —
The Mold-life — all forgotten — now —
In Ecstasy — and Dell –

Do you have a Nook? Get the Daily Dickinson Nook Screensaver collection!

Of Course — I prayed –

Of Course -- I prayed --Of Course — I prayed —
And did God Care?
He cared as much as on the Air
A Bird — had stamped her foot —
And cried “Give Me” —
My Reason — Life —
I had not had — but for Yourself —
‘Twere better Charity
To leave me in the Atom’s Tomb —
Merry, and Nought, and gay, and numb —
Than this smart Misery.

Do you have a Nook? Get the Daily Dickinson Nook Screensaver collection!

Although I put away his life –

Although I put away his life --Although I put away his life —
An Ornament too grand
For Forehead low as mine, to wear,
This might have been the Hand

That sowed the flower, he preferred —
Or smoothed a homely pain,
Or pushed the pebble from his path —
Or played his chosen tune —

On Lute the least — the latest —
But just his Ear could know
That whatsoe’er delighted it,
I never would let go —

The foot to bear his errand —
A little Boot I know —
Would leap abroad like Antelope —
With just the grant to do —

His weariest Commandment —
A sweeter to obey,
Than “Hide and Seek” —
Or skip to Flutes —
Or all Day, chase the Bee —

Your Servant, Sir, will weary —
The Surgeon, will not come —
The World, will have its own — to do —
The Dust, will vex your Fame —

The Cold will force your tightest door
Some February Day,
But say my apron bring the sticks
To make your Cottage gay —

That I may take that promise
To Paradise, with me —
To teach the Angels, avarice,
You, Sir, taught first — to me.

Do you have a Nook? Get the Daily Dickinson Nook Screensaver collection!

Whose are the little beds, I asked

Whose are the little beds, I askedWhose are the little beds, I asked
Which in the valleys lie?
Some shook their heads, and others smiled —
And no one made reply.

Perhaps they did not hear, I said,
I will inquire again —
Whose are the beds — the tiny beds
So thick upon the plain?

‘Tis Daisy, in the shortest —
A little further on —
Nearest the door — to wake the Ist —
Little Leontoden.

‘Tis Iris, Sir, and Aster —
Anemone, and Bell —
Bartsia, in the blanket red —
And chubby Daffodil.

Meanwhile, at many cradles
Her busy foot she plied —
Humming the quaintest lullaby
That ever rocked a child.

Hush! Epigea wakens!
The Crocus stirs her lids —
Rhodora’s cheek is crimson,
She’s dreaming of the woods!

Then turning from them reverent —
Their bedtime ’tis, she said —
The Bumble bees will wake them
When April woods are red.