Tag Archives: noon

You’ll know it — as you know ’tis Noon –

You'll know it -- as you know 'tis Noon --You’ll know it — as you know ’tis Noon –
By Glory –
As you do the Sun –
By Glory –
As you will in Heaven –
Know God the Father — and the Son.

By intuition, Mightiest Things
Assert themselves — and not by terms –
“I’m Midnight” — need the Midnight say –
“I’m Sunrise” — Need the Majesty?

Omnipotence — had not a Tongue –
His lisp — is Lightning — and the Sun –
His Conversation — with the Sea –
“How shall you know”?
Consult your Eye!

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

Sunset at Night — is natural –

Sunset at Night -- is natural --Sunset at Night — is natural –
But Sunset on the Dawn
Reverses Nature — Master –
So Midnight’s — due — at Noon.

Eclipses be — predicted –
And Science bows them in –
But do one face us suddenly –
Jehovah’s Watch — is wrong.

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

Before I got my eye put out

Before I got my eye put outBefore 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 –

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

It’s like the Light –

It's like the Light --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!

The Robin’s my Criterion for Tune —

The Robin's my Criterion for Tune —The Robin’s my Criterion for Tune —
Because I grow — where Robins do —
But, were I Cuckoo born —
I’d swear by him —
The ode familiar — rules the Noon —
The Buttercup’s, my Whim for Bloom —
Because, we’re Orchard sprung —
But, were I Britain born,
I’d Daisies spurn —
None but the Nut — October fit —
Because, through dropping it,
The Seasons flit — I’m taught —
Without the Snow’s Tableau
Winter, were lie — to me —
Because I see — New Englandly —
The Queen, discerns like me —
Provincially —

I shall keep singing!

I shall keep singing!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 –

When we stand on the tops of Things –

When we stand on the tops of Things --When we stand on the tops of Things –
And like the Trees, look down –
The smoke all cleared away from it –
And Mirrors on the scene –

Just laying light — no soul will wink
Except it have the flaw –
The Sound ones, like the Hills — shall stand –
No Lighting, scares away –

The Perfect, nowhere be afraid –
They bear their dauntless Heads,
Where others, dare not go at Noon,
Protected by their deeds –

The Stars dare shine occasionally
Upon a spotted World –
And Suns, go surer, for their Proof,
As if an Axle, held –

We — Bee and I — live by the quaffing –

We -- Bee and I -- live by the quaffing --We — Bee and I — live by the quaffing –
‘Tisn’t all Hock — with us –
Life has its Ale –
But it’s many a lay of the Dim Burgundy –
We chant — for cheer — when the Wines — fail –

Do we “get drunk”?
Ask the jolly Clovers!
Do we “beat” our “Wife”?
I — never wed –
Bee — pledges his — in minute flagons –
Dainty — as the trees — on our deft Head –

While runs the Rhine –
He and I — revel –
First — at the vat — and latest at the Vine –
Noon — our last Cup –
“Found dead” — “of Nectar” –
By a humming Coroner –
In a By-Thyme!