A daily poem from the complete works of Emily Dickinson.
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Good Morning — Midnight –
I’m coming Home –
Day — got tired of Me –
How could I — of Him?
Sunshine was a sweet place –
I liked to stay –
But Morn — didn’t want me — now –
So — Goodnight — Day!
I can look — can’t I –
When the East is Red?
The Hills — have a way — then –
That puts the Heart — abroad –
You — are not so fair — Midnight –
I chose — Day –
But — please take a little Girl –
He turned away!
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She lay as if at play
Her life had leaped away –
Intending to return –
But not so soon –
Her merry Arms, half dropt –
As if for lull of sport –
An instant had forgot –
The Trick to start –
Her dancing Eyes — ajar –
As if their Owner were
Still sparkling through
For fun — at you –
Her Morning at the door –
Devising, I am sure –
To force her sleep –
So light — so deep –
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The Morning after Woe –
‘Tis frequently the Way –
Surpasses all that rose before –
For utter Jubilee –
As Nature did not care –
And piled her Blossoms on –
And further to parade a Joy
Her Victim stared upon –
The Birds declaim their Tunes –
Pronouncing every word
Like Hammers — Did they know they fell
Like Litanies of Lead –
On here and there — a creature –
They’d modify the Glee
To fit some Crucifixal Clef –
Some Key of Calvary –
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Before I got my eye put out
I liked as well to see –
As other Creatures, that have Eyes
And know no other way –
But were it told to me — Today –
That I might have the sky
For mine — I tell you that my Heart
Would split, for size of me –
The Meadows — mine –
The Mountains — mine –
All Forests — Stintless Stars –
As much of Noon as I could take
Between my finite eyes –
The Motions of the Dipping Birds –
The Morning’s Amber Road –
For mine — to look at when I liked –
The News would strike me dead –
So safer — guess — with just my soul
Upon the Window pane –
Where other Creatures put their eyes –
Incautious — of the Sun –
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Her — “last Poems” –
Poets — ended –
Silver — perished — with her Tongue –
Not on Record — bubbled other,
Flute — or Woman –
So divine –
Not unto its Summer — Morning
Robin — uttered Half the Tune –
Gushed too free for the Adoring –
From the Anglo-Florentine –
Late — the Praise –
‘Tis dull — conferring
On the Head too High to Crown –
Diadem — or Ducal Showing –
Be its Grave — sufficient sign –
Nought — that We — No Poet’s Kinsman –
Suffocate — with easy woe –
What, and if, Ourself a Bridegroom –
Put Her down — in Italy?
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“Morning” — means “Milking” — to the Farmer –
Dawn — to the Teneriffe –
Dice — to the Maid –
Morning means just Risk — to the Lover –
Just revelation — to the Beloved –
Epicures — date a Breakfast — by it –
Brides — an Apocalypse –
Worlds — a Flood –
Faint-going Lives — Their Lapse from Sighing –
Faith — The Experiment of Our Lord
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It’s like the Light –
A fashionless Delight –
It’s like the Bee –
A dateless — Melody –
It’s like the Woods –
Private — Like the Breeze –
Phraseless — yet it stirs
The proudest Trees –
It’s like the Morning –
Best — when it’s done –
And the Everlasting Clocks –
Chime — Noon!
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I shall keep singing!
Birds will pass me
On their way to Yellower Climes –
Each — with a Robin’s expectation –
I — with my Redbreast –
And my Rhymes –
Late — when I take my place in summer –
But — I shall bring a fuller tune –
Vespers — are sweeter than Matins — Signor –
Morning — only the seed of Noon –
Tags: bird, birds, climes, expectation, fuller, house, late, matins, morning, noon, pass, place, redbreast, rhymes, robin, see, seed, signor, sing, singing, summer, sweeter, tune, vespers, yellower
