Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)
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автордың кітабынан сөз тіркестері  Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)
Emily Dickinson

Удалённый аккаунт
Удалённый аккаунтдәйексөз келтірді7 жыл бұрын
PAIN has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself, Its infinite realms contain Its past, enlightened to perceive New periods of pain
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Vendetta1799
Vendetta1799дәйексөз келтірді1 жыл бұрын
THE brain is wider than the sky, For, put them side by side, The one the other will include With ease, and you beside. The brain is deeper than the sea, For, hold them, blue to blue, The one the other will absorb, As sponges, buckets do. The brain is just the weight of God, For, lift them, pound for pound, And they will differ, if they do, As syllable from sound.
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Алиса Федотова
Алиса Федотовадәйексөз келтірді2 жыл бұрын
To tell the beauty would decrease, To state the Spell demean, There is a syllableless sea Of which it is the sign
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Алиса Федотова
Алиса Федотовадәйексөз келтірді2 жыл бұрын
The heart asks pleasure first, And then, excuse from pain; And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering; And then, to go to sleep; And then, if it should be The will of its Inquisitor, The liberty to die.
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Даша З.
Даша З.дәйексөз келтірді3 жыл бұрын
TO fight aloud is very brave, But gallanter, I know, Who charge within the bosom, The cavalry of woe. Who win, and nations do not see, Who fall, and none observe, Whose dying eyes no country Regards with patriot love. We trust, in plumed procession, For such the angels go, Rank after rank, with even feet And uniforms of snow.
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emily dickinson
emily dickinsonдәйексөз келтірді4 жыл бұрын
Heaven a physician? They say that He can heal; But medicine posthumous Is unavailable. Is Heaven an exchequer?30 They speak of what we owe; But that negotiation I’m not a party to.
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emily dickinson
emily dickinsonдәйексөз келтірді4 жыл бұрын
FOR each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ecstasy. For each beloved hour Sharp pittances of years, Bitter contested farthings24 And coffers heaped with tears.
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emily dickinson
emily dickinsonдәйексөз келтірді4 жыл бұрын
HOPE is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all, And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I’ve heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.
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emily dickinson
emily dickinsonдәйексөз келтірді4 жыл бұрын
HE ate and drank the precious words, His spirit grew robust; He knew no more that he was poor, Nor that his frame was dust. He danced along the dingy days, And this bequest of wings Was but a book. What liberty A loosened spirit brings!
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emily dickinson
emily dickinsonдәйексөз келтірді4 жыл бұрын
PAIN has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself, Its infinite realms contain Its past, enlightened to perceive New periods of pain.
1 Ұнайды
Комментарий жазу