That it will never come again Is what makes life so sweet.
Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886)
Source: poem no. 1741.
Contributed by: Zaady
I . . . am small, like the wren, and my hair is bold like the chestnut burr; and my eyes like the sherry in the glass that the guest leaves.
My only sketch, profile, of Heaven is a large blue sky, and larger than the biggest I have seen in June - and in it are my friends - every one of them.
Who has not found the heaven below Will fail of it above. God's residence is next to mine- His furniture is love.
Where thou art, that is home.
The Pedigree of Honey Does not concern the Bee - A Clover, any time, to him, Is Aristocracy -
Source: The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, no. 1627, version 2, ed. Thomas H. Johnson, 1955.
Hope it strange invention - A Patent of the Heart - In unremitting action Yet never wearing out.
Source: Letter, 1877; in Letters of Emily Dickinson, ed. Mabel Loomis Todd, 1894.
A great Hope fell You heard no noise The Ruin was within.
Source: c.1864, poem No. 1123, St. 1.
How odd that girl's life looks Behind this soft eclipse! I think that earth seems so To those in heaven now. This being comfort, then That other kind was pain; But why compare? I'm wife! stop there!
God gave a loaf to every bird, But just a crumb to me.
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