POETRY: Words Of Emily Dickinson On Friendship

Words Of Emily Dickinson On Friendship

303

The Soul selects her own Society —
Then — shuts the Door —
To her divine Majority —
Present no more —

Unmoved — she notes the Chariots — pausing —
At her low Gate —
Unmoved — an Emperor be kneeling
Upon her Mat —

I’ve known her — from an ample nation —
Choose One —
Then — close the Valves of her attention —
Like Stone —

753

My Soul — accused me — And I quailed —
As Tongues of Diamond had reviled
All else accused me — and I smiled —
My Soul — that Morning — was My friend —

Her favor — is the best Disdain
Toward Artifice of Time — or Men —
But Her Disdain — ‘twere lighter bear
A finger of Enamelled Fire —

1630

As from the earth the light Balloon
Asks nothing but release —
Ascension that for which it was,
Its soaring Residence.
The spirit looks upon the Dust
That fastened it so long
With indignation,
As a Bird
Defrauded of its song.

1661

Guest am I to have
Light my northern room
Why to cordiality so averse to come
Other friends adjourn
Other bonds decay
Why avoid so narrowly
My fidelity —

55

By Chivalries as tiny,
A Blossom, or a Book,
The seeds of smiles are planted —
Which blossom in the dark.

1548

Meeting by Accident,
We hovered by design —
As often as a Century
An error so divine
Is ratified by Destiny,
But Destiny is old
And economical of Bliss
As Midas is of Gold —

1615

Oh what a Grace is this,
What Majesties of Peace,
That having breathed
The fine — ensuing Right
Without Diminuet Proceed!

1504

Of whom so dear
The name to hear
Illumines with a Glow
As intimate — as fugitive
As Sunset on the snow —

398

I had not minded — Walls —
Were Universe —one Rock —
And far I heard his silver Call
The other side the Block —

I’d tunnel — till my Groove
Pushed sudden thro’ to his —
Then my face take her Recompense —
The looking in his Eyes —

But ‘tis a single Hair —
A filament — a law —
A Cobweb — wove in Adamant —
A Battlement — of Straw —

A limit like the Veil
Unto the Lady’s face —
But every Mesh — a Citadel —
And Dragons — in the Crease —

1614

Parting with Thee reluctantly,
That we have never met,
A Heart sometimes a Foreigner,
Remembers it forgot —

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