Dickinson

898

How happy I was if I could forget
To remember how sad I am
Would be an easy adversity
But the recollecting of Bloom
Keeps making November difficult
Till I who was almost bold
Lose my way like a little Child
And perish of the cold.





937

I felt a Cleaving in my Mind -
As if my Brain had split -
I tried to match it - Seam by Seam -
But could not make them fit.

The thought behind, I strove to join
Unto the thoght before -
But Sequence ravelled out of Sound
Like Balls - upon a Floor.





1129

Tell all the Truth but tell it slant -
Success in circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightening to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind -





1677

On my volcano groes the Grass
A meditative spot -
An acre for a Bird to choose
Would be the general thought

How red the Fire rocks below -
How insecure the sod
Did I disclose
Would populate with awe my solitude.





1510

How happy is the little Stone
That rambles in the Road alone
And doesn't care about Careers
And Exigencies never fears -
Whose Coat of elemental Browns
A passing Universe put on,
And indipendent as the Sun
Associates or glows alone,
Fulfilling absolute Decree
In casual simplicity -

E. Dickinson