I'm nobody! Who are you?: Poems by Emily Dickinson

I'm nobody! Who are you?

Way I read a letter's this

To make a prairie it takes a clover

Water is taught by thirst

Soul selects her own society

Something in a summer's day

If what we could were what we would

For Death,-or rather

If recollecting were forgetting

I send two Sunsets

I had been hungry all the years - Each that we lose takes part of us

Mountain sat upon the plain

It was not death, for I stood up

I reason, earth is short

Love reckons by itself alone

Body grows outside,

Door just opened on a street

Bee is not afraid of me

How happy is the little stone

Surgeons must be very careful

Cricket sang

Word is dead

There is a word

Bustle in a house

Thought went up my mind today

There came a wind like a bugle

I died for beauty, but was scarce

I think that the root of the Wind is Water

It tossed and tossed,

My life closed twice before its close

Nature rarer uses yellow

Is bliss, the, such abyss

She sweeps with many-colored brooms

We learn in the retreating

No rack can torture me

So set its sun in thee

Clock stopped-not the mantel's

Some things that fly there be,

Perception of an

Bird came down the walk

I've got arrow here

Adventure most unto itself

I never hear the word "escape"

There is another Loneliness

You've seen balloons set, haven't you?

It's like the light,

As imperceptibly as grief

Softened by Time's consummate plush

Long sigh of the Frog

Before I got my eye put out

What if I say I shall not wait?

To tell the beauty would decrease

I started early, took my dog

Give little anguish

I years had been from home

Mine enemy is growing old,

Remembrance has a rear and front,

I measure every grief I meet

Pain has an element of blank

Apparently with no surprise

At half-past three a single bird

My river runs to thee

Last night that she lived

Sun kept setting, setting still

Murmuring of bees has ceased

If I can stop one heart from breaking

Narrow fellow in the grass

There's a certain slant of light

Toad can die of light!

Low at my problem bending

I gained it so

My Wheel is in the dark,

Much madness is divinest sense

Soul unto itself

Her Grace is all she has

I felt a funeral in my brain

Wild nights! Wild nights!

Not any sunny tone

Soul's superior instants

Death-blow is a life-blow to some

You cannot put a fire out

It dropped so low in my regard

Love is anterior to life

Of all the sounds despatched abroad

Precious, mouldering pleasure 'tis

This world is not conclusion

That Love is all there is

I felt a cleavage in my mind

Except the heaven had come so near

Exultation is the going

Brain is wider that the sky

Everywhere of silver

Could I but ride indefinite

Moon was but a chin of gold

Not knowing when the dawn will come

I dreaded that first robin so

Of bronze and blaze

At last to be identified!

To lose one' faith surpasses

We play at paste

Rat is the concisest tenant

Superiority to fate

Just lost when I was saved!

Those final Creatures,-who they are

I have no life but this.