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He parts Himself—like Leaves—
And then—He closes up—
Then stands upon the Bonnet
Of Any Buttercup—

And then He runs against
And oversets a Rose—
And then does Nothing—
Then away upon a Jib—He goes—

And dangles like a Mote
Suspended in the Noon—
Uncertain—to return Below—
Or settle in the Moon—

What come of Him—at Night—
The privilege to say
Be limited by Ignorance—
What come of Him—That Day—

The Frost—possess the World—
In Cabinets—be shown—
A Sepulchre of quaintest Floss—
An Abbey—a Cocoon—


About Emily Dickinson


Emily Elizabeth Dickinson was an American poet. Born in Amherst, Massachusetts, to a successful family with strong community ties, she lived a mostly introverted and reclusive life. After she studied at the Amherst Academy for seven years in her youth, she spent a short time at Mount Holyoke Female Seminary before returning to her family's house in Amherst. Thought of as an eccentric by the locals, she became known for her penchant for white clothing and her reluctance to greet guests or, later in life, even leave her room. Most of her friendships were therefore carried out by correspondence. Although... Read more...

Poet of the day

a Baltimore housewife and florist, best known as the author of the poem "Do not stand at my grave and weep," written in 1932.

She was born Mary Elizabeth Clark, and was orphaned at the age of three. In 1927 she married Claud Frye.

The identity of the author of...
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Poem of the day


My mother would be a falconress,
And I, her gay falcon treading her wrist,
would fly to bring back
from the blue of the sky to her, bleeding, a prize,
where I dream in my little hood with many bells
jangling when I'd turn my...
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