Emily Dickinson, from “No crowd that has occurred” (Poem #515), Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
[Text ID: “August--Absorbed--Numb”]
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Emily Dickinson, from ’These are the days when birds come back’ (Poem #130), Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
[Text ID: “These are the days when skies resume
The old - old sophistries of June -
A blue and gold mistake.”]
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—Emily Dickinson
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The Dark—felt beautiful—
Emily Dickinson, The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, from ‘What care the Dead, for Chanticleer...’
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It might be lonelier
Without the Loneliness —
I'm so accustomed to my Fate —
Perhaps the Other — Peace —
Would interrupt the Dark —
And crowd the little Room —
Too scant — by Cubits — to contain
The Sacrament — of Him —
I am not used to Hope —
It might intrude upon —
Its sweet parade — blaspheme the place —
Ordained to Suffering —
It might be easier
To fail — with Land in Sight —
Than gain — My Blue Peninsula —
To perish — of Delight —
Emily Dickinson, "It might be lonelier," from The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
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I have learned that crafting any kind of rhymed poetry means your head is constantly rotating through every poem you've ever heard in your life that uses the same meter.
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Emily Dickinson. 1121. The Complete Poems. [24]
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Emily Dickinson, Letter to Sue
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Emily Dickinson, from ’All these my banners be’ (Poem #22), Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
[Text ID: “The swamps are pink with June.”]
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telling myself not to check out anymore library books until i finished the ones that i have but i go into the library to have a fun time and i find an armful of new books
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"Would you like Summer? Taste of ours – Spices? Buy – here!
Ill! We have Berries, for the parching!
Weary! Furloughs of Down!
Perplexed! Estates of Violet – Trouble ne’er looked on!
Captive! We bring Reprieve of Roses!
Fainting! Flasks of Air!
Even for Death – A Fairy medicine –
But, which is it – Sir"
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But longing has drunk my blood.
Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova: Evening; from ‘Believe me, not the serpent’s sharp sting…’, tr. Judith Hemschemeyer
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Contained in this short Life
Are magical extents
The soul returning soft at night
To steal securer thence
As Children strictest kept
Turn soonest to the sea
Whose nameless Fathoms slink away
Beside infinity
Emily Dickinson, "Contained in this short Life," from The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
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