Poems by Emily Dickinson, Third Series eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 41 pages of information about Poems by Emily Dickinson, Third Series.

Poems by Emily Dickinson, Third Series eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 41 pages of information about Poems by Emily Dickinson, Third Series.

V.

Ending.

That is solemn we have ended, —­
  Be it but a play,
Or a glee among the garrets,
  Or a holiday,

Or a leaving home; or later,
  Parting with a world
We have understood, for better
  Still it be unfurled.

VI.

The stimulus, beyond the grave
  His countenance to see,
Supports me like imperial drams
  Afforded royally.

VII.

Given in marriage unto thee,
  Oh, thou celestial host! 
Bride of the Father and the Son,
  Bride of the Holy Ghost!

Other betrothal shall dissolve,
  Wedlock of will decay;
Only the keeper of this seal
  Conquers mortality.

VIII.

That such have died enables us
  The tranquiller to die;
That such have lived, certificate
  For immortality.

IX.

They won’t frown always, —­ some sweet day
  When I forget to tease,
They’ll recollect how cold I looked,
  And how I just said ‘please.’

Then they will hasten to the door
  To call the little child,
Who cannot thank them, for the ice
  That on her lisping piled.

X.

Immortality.

It is an honorable thought,
  And makes one lift one’s hat,
As one encountered gentlefolk
  Upon a daily street,

That we’ve immortal place,
  Though pyramids decay,
And kingdoms, like the orchard,
  Flit russetly away.

XI.

The distance that the dead have gone
  Does not at first appear;
Their coming back seems possible
  For many an ardent year.

And then, that we have followed them
  We more than half suspect,
So intimate have we become
  With their dear retrospect.

XII.

How dare the robins sing,
  When men and women hear
Who since they went to their account
  Have settled with the year! —­
Paid all that life had earned
  In one consummate bill,
And now, what life or death can do
  Is immaterial. 
Insulting is the sun
  To him whose mortal light,
Beguiled of immortality,
  Bequeaths him to the night. 
In deference to him
  Extinct be every hum,
Whose garden wrestles with the dew,
  At daybreak overcome!

XIII.

Death.

Death is like the insect
  Menacing the tree,
Competent to kill it,
  But decoyed may be.

Bait it with the balsam,
  Seek it with the knife,
Baffle, if it cost you
  Everything in life.

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Poems by Emily Dickinson, Third Series from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.