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Love Poems

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Shayna Manusos

on 11 October 2013

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Transcript of Love Poems

YOU left me, sweet, two legacies,—
A legacy of love
A Heavenly Father would content,
Had He the offer of;

You left me boundaries of pain 5
Capacious as the sea,
Between eternity and time,
Your consciousness and me.

ALTER? When the hills do.
Falter? When the sun
Question if his glory
Be the perfect one.
Surfeit? When the daffodil 5
Doth of the dew:
Even as herself, O friend!
I will of you!
MY river runs to thee:
Blue sea, wilt welcome me?

My river waits reply.
Oh sea, look graciously!

I ’ll fetch thee brooks 5
From spotted nooks,—

Say, sea,
Take me!
I ’M wife; I ’ve finished that,
That other state;
I ’m Czar, I ’m woman now:
It ’s safer so.

How odd the girl’s life looks 5
Behind this soft eclipse!
I think that earth seems so
To those in heaven now.

This being comfort, then
That other kind was pain; 10
But why compare?
I ’m wife! stop there!
This poem reflects the emotion that is often seen in Romantic Literature.
This is another expression of emotion that Emily is portraying to whoever the intended audience was.
Nature is represented in this poem by the referral to the daffodil and the dew.
Emily Dickinson

FAME is a fickle food
Upon a shifting plate,
Whose table once a Guest, but not
The second time, is set.
Whose crumbs the crows inspect,
And with ironic caw
Flap past it to the Farmer’s corn;
Men eat of it and die.
MINE by the right of the white election!
Mine by the royal seal!
Mine by the sign in the scarlet prison
Bars cannot conceal!

Mine, here in vision and in veto! 5
Mine, by the grave’s repeal
Titled, confirmed,—delirious charter!
Mine, while the ages steal!
Life Poems
Nature Poems

The Single Hound

Love Poems

1. SUCCESS is counted sweetest
By those who ne’er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple host
Who took the flag to-day
Can tell the definition,
So clear, of victory,

As he, defeated, dying,
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Break, agonized and clear.

NATURE, the gentlest mother,
Impatient of no child,
The feeblest or the waywardest,—
Her admonition mild

In forest and the hill
By traveller is heard,
Restraining rampant squirrel
Or too impetuous bird.

How fair her conversation,
A summer afternoon,—
Her household, her assembly;
2. OUR share of night to bear,
Our share of morning,
Our blank in bliss to fill,
Our blank in scorning.

Here a star, and there a star,
Some lose their way.
Here a mist, and there a mist,
3. SOUL, wilt thou toss again?
By just such a hazard
Hundreds have lost, indeed,
But tens have won an all.

Angels’ breathless ballot
Lingers to record thee;
Imps in eager caucus
Raffle for my soul.

4. ’T IS so much joy! ’T is so much joy!
If I should fail, what poverty!
And yet, as poor as I
Have ventured all upon a throw;
Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so
This side the victory!

Life is but life, and death but death!
Bliss is but bliss, and breath but breath!
And if, indeed, I fail,
At least to know the worst is sweet.
Defeat means nothing but defeat,
No drearier can prevail!

And if I gain,—oh, gun at sea,
Oh, bells that in the steeples be,
At first repeat it slow!
For heaven is a different thing
Conjectured, and waked sudden in,
And might o’erwhelm me so!

5. GLEE! the great storm is over!
Four have recovered the land;
Forty gone down together
Into the boiling sand.

Ring, for the scant salvation!
Toll, for the bonnie souls,—
Neighbor and friend and bridegroom,
Spinning upon the shoals!

How they will tell the shipwreck
When winter shakes the door,
Till the children ask, “But the forty?
Did they come back no more?”

Then a silence suffuses the story,
And a softness the teller’s eye;
And the children no further question,
And only the waves reply.

6. IF I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.
7. WITHIN my reach!
I could have touched!
I might have chanced that way!
Soft sauntered through the village,
Sauntered as soft away!
So unsuspected violets
Within the fields lie low,
Too late for striving fingers
That passed, an hour ago.

8. WOUNDED deer leaps highest,
I ’ve heard the hunter tell;
’T is but the ecstasy of death,
And then the brake is still.

The smitten rock that gushes,
The trampled steel that springs:
A cheek is always redder
Just where the hectic stings!

Mirth is the mail of anguish,
In which it caution arm,
Lest anybody spy the blood
And “You ’re hurt” exclaim!

9. 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.
10. A PRECIOUS, mouldering pleasure ’t is
To meet an antique book,
In just the dress his century wore;
A privilege, I think,

His venerable hand to take,
And warming in our own,
A passage back, or two, to make
To times when he was young.

His quaint opinions to inspect,
His knowledge to unfold
On what concerns our mutual mind,
The literature of old;

What interested scholars most,
What competitions ran
When Plato was a certainty,
And Sophocles a man;

When Sappho was a living girl,
And Beatrice wore
The gown that Dante deified.
Facts, centuries before,

He traverses familiar,
As one should come to town
And tell you all your dreams were true:
He lived where dreams were born.

His presence is enchantment,
You beg him not to go;
Old volumes shake their vellum heads
And tantalize, just so.

11. MUCH madness is divinest sense
To a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness.
’T is the majority
In this, as all, prevails.
Assent, and you are sane;
Demur,—you ’re straightway dangerous,
And handled with a chain.

12. I ASKED no other thing,
No other was denied.
I offered Being for it;
The mighty merchant smiled.

Brazil? He twirled a button,
Without a glance my way:
“But, madam, is there nothing else
That we can show to-day?”
13. THE SOUL selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority

Obtrude no more.
Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.

I ’ve known her from an ample nation
Choose one;
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.
THE DUTIES of the Wind are few—
To cast the Ships at sea,
Establish March,
The Floods escort,
And usher Liberty.

SUMMER begins to have the look,
Peruser of enchanting Book
Reluctantly, but sure, perceives—
A gain upon the backward leaves.

Autumn begins to be inferred
By millinery of the cloud,
Or deeper color in the shawl
That wraps the everlasting hill.

The eye begins its avarice,
A meditation chastens speech,
Some Dyer of a distant tree
Resumes his gaudy industry.

Conclusion is the course of all,
Almost to be perennial,
And then elude stability
Recalls to immortality.
THAT Love is all there is,
Is all we know of Love;
It is enough, the freight should be
Proportioned to the groove.

TO see her is a picture,
To hear her is a tune,
To know her an intemperance
As innocent as June;
By which to be undone
Is dearer than Redemption—
Which never to receive,
Makes mockery of melody
It might have been to live.

THE HEALED Heart shows its shallow scar
With confidential moan,
Not mended by Mortality
Are fabrics truly torn.
To go its convalescent way
So shameless is to see,
More genuine were Perfidy
Than such Fidelity.

THE STARS are old, that stood for me—
The West a little worn,
Yet newer glows the only Gold
I ever cared to earn—
Presuming on that lone result
Her infinite disdain,
But vanquished her with my defeat,
’T was Victory was slain.

HIS mind, of man a secret makes,
I meet him with a start,
He carries a circumference
In which I have no part,
Or even if I deem I do—
He otherwise may know.
Impregnable to inquest,
However neighborly.
NEW feet within my garden go,
New fingers stir the sod;
A troubadour upon the elm
Betrays the solitude.

New children play upon the green,
New weary sleep below;
And still the pensive spring returns,
And still the punctual snow!
I KNOW a place where summer strives
With such a practised frost,
She each year leads her daisies back,
Recording briefly, “Lost.”

But when the south wind stirs the pools And struggles in the lanes,
Her heart misgives her for her vow,
And she pours soft refrains

Into the lap of adamant,
And spices, and the dew,
That stiffens quietly to quartz,
Upon her amber shoe.
NATURE rarer uses yellow
Than another hue;
Saves she all of that for sunsets,—
Prodigal of blue,

Spending scarlet like a woman,
Yellow she affords
Only scantly and selectly,
Like a lover’s words.
HOW happy is the little stone
That rambles in the road alone,
And does n’t care about careers,
And exigencies never fears;
Whose coat of elemental brown
A passing universe put on;
And independent as the sun,
Associates or glows alone,
Fulfilling absolute decree
In casual simplicity.

THE ROBIN is the one
That interrupts the morn
With hurried, few, express reports
When March is scarcely on.

The robin is the one
That overflows the noon
With her cherubic quantity,
An April but begun.

The robin is the one
That speechless from her nest
Submits that home and certainty
And sanctity are best.
WHO robbed the woods
The trusting woods?
The unsuspecting trees
Brought out their burrs and mosses
His fantasy to please.
He scanned their trinkets, curious,
He grasped, he bore away.
What will the solemn hemlock,
What will the fir-tree say?

ELYSIUM is as far as to
The very nearest room,
If in that room a friend await
Felicity or doom.

What fortitude the soul contains, 5
That it can so endure
The accent of a coming foot,
The opening of a door!
DOUBT me, my dim companion!
Why, God would be content
With but a fraction of the love
Poured thee without a stint.
The whole of me, forever, 5
What more the woman can,—
Say quick, that I may dower thee
With last delight I own!

It cannot be my spirit,
For that was thine before; 10
I ceded all of dust I knew,—
What opulence the more
Had I, a humble maiden,
Whose farthest of degree
Was that she might 15
Some distant heaven,
Dwell timidly with thee!
IF you were coming in the fall,
I ’d brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.

If I could see you in a year, 5
I ’d wind the months in balls,
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls.

If only centuries delayed,
I ’d count them on my hand, 10
Subtracting till my fingers dropped
Into Van Diemen’s land.

If certain, when this life was out,
That yours and mine should be,
I ’d toss it yonder like a rind, 15
And taste eternity.

But now, all ignorant of the length
Of time’s uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee,
That will not state its sting.
I HIDE myself within my flower,
That wearing on your breast,
You, unsuspecting, wear me too—
And angels know the rest.

I hide myself within my flower,
That, fading from your vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me
Almost a loneliness.
LOVE is anterior to life,
Posterior to death,
Initial of creation, and
The exponent of breath.

BEFORE you thought of spring,
Except as a surmise,
You see, God bless his suddenness,
A fellow in the skies
Of independent hues,
A little weather-worn,
Inspiriting habiliments
Of indigo and brown.

With specimens of song,
As if for you to choose,
Discretion in the interval,
With gay delays he goes
To some superior tree
Without a single leaf,
And shouts for joy to nobody
But his seraphic self!

AH, Teneriffe!
Retreating Mountain!
Purples of Ages pause for you,
Sunset reviews her Sapphire Regiment,
Day drops you her red Adieu!

Still, clad in your mail of ices,
Thigh of granite and thew of steel—
Heedless, alike, of pomp or parting,
Ah, Teneriffe!
I ’m kneeling still.
HAVE you got a brook in your little heart,
Where bashful flowers blow,
And blushing birds go down to drink,
And shadows tremble so?

And nobody, knows, so still it flows, 5
That any brook is there;
And yet your little draught of life
Is daily drunken there.

Then look out for the little brook in March,
When the rivers overflow, 10
And the snows come hurrying from the hills,
And the bridges often go.

And later, in August it may be,
When the meadows parching lie,
Beware, lest this little brook of life 15
Some burning noon go dry!

THE MURMURING of bees has ceased;
But murmuring of some
Posterior, prophetic,
Has simultaneous come,—

The lower meters of the year,
When nature’s laugh is done,—
The Revelations of the book
Whose Genesis is June.

BLOOM upon the Mountain, stated,
Blameless of a name.
Efflorescence of a Sunset—
Reproduced, the same.

Seed, had I, my purple sowing
Should endow the Day,
Not a tropic of the twilight
Show itself away.

Who for tilling, to the Mountain
Come, and disappear—
Whose be Her renown, or fading,
Witness, is not here.

While I state—the solemn petals
Far as North and East,
Far as South and West expanding,
Culminate in rest.

And the Mountain to the Evening
Fit His countenance,
Indicating by no muscle
The Experience.
AS if some little Arctic flower,
Upon the polar hem,
Went wandering down the latitudes,
Until it puzzled came
To continents of summer, 5
To firmaments of sun,
To strange, bright crowds of flowers,
And birds of foreign tongue!
I say, as if this little flower
To Eden wandered in— 10
What then? Why, nothing, only
Your inference therefrom!
GLOWING is her Bonnet,
Glowing is her Cheek,
Glowing is her Kirtle,
Yet she cannot speak!

Better, as the Daisy
From the Summer hill,
Vanish unrecorded
Save by tearful Rill,

Save by loving Sunrise
Looking for her face,
Save by feet unnumbered
Pausing at the place!

I ’M ceded, I ’ve stopped being theirs;
The name they dropped upon my face
With water, in the country church,
Is finished using now,
And they can put it with my dolls, 5
My childhood, and the string of spools
I ’ve finished threading too.

Baptized before without the choice,
But this time consciously, of grace
Unto supremest name, 10
Called to my full, the crescent dropped,
Existence’s whole arc filled up
With one small diadem.

My second rank, too small the first,
Crowned, crowing on my father’s breast, 15
A half unconscious queen;
But this time, adequate, erect,
With will to choose or to reject,
And I choose—just a throne.

T WAS a long parting, but the time
For interview had come;
Before the judgment-seat of God,
The last and second time

These fleshless lovers met, 5
A heaven in a gaze,
A heaven of heavens, the privilege
Of one another’s eyes.

No lifetime set on them,
Apparelled as the new 10
Unborn, except they had beheld,
Born everlasting now.

Was bridal e’er like this?
A paradise, the host,
And cherubim and seraphim 15
The most familiar guest.

AS children bid the guest good-night,
And then reluctant turn,
My flowers raise their pretty lips,
Then put their nightgowns on.

As children caper when they wake,
Merry that it is morn,
My flowers from a hundred cribs
Will peep, and prance again.

TWO butterflies went out at noon
And waltzed above a stream,
Then stepped straight through the firmament
And rested on a beam;

And then together bore away
Upon a shining sea,—
Though never yet, in any port,
Their coming mentioned be.

If spoken by the distant bird,
If met in ether sea
By frigate or by merchantman,
Report was not to me.
Crisis moment- men die
This poem by Emily Dickinson expresses Romanticism in its referral to flowers.
This poem expresses noble savage in the sense that it displays her right of freedom and her need to express her opinion in her common use of "Mine."
The word "elysium" means a place of happiness. This is relevant to Romanticism because the universe is incomprehensible and this describes a society she cant explain.
This poem is very highly emotionally intensive in its wording. This is evident of Romanticism literature n the big decision she is making.
static character because he has his own circumference that he will not let her into.
the whole poem is about love which is a characteristic of romanticism.
this poem shows escapism- imagining about the beauty of her in order to escape the mockery of life.
The bees represent nature in this poem.
Nature is a source of knowledge- sunset reviews her regiment
The woods represent nature in this poem. Also someone living in solitude and foreshadowing
Nature is represented by the flowers she hides in.
Nature is represented in this poem by the sunsets and skies that are describe.
The robin is the character in this poem. She represents nature.
There is deep emotion in this poem. The sunrise, leafs, trees, and skies represent nature.
Static characters and emotion are represented in this poem
The little stone is the character and represents the nature in this poem. Solitude is also represented.
Static characters and nature are represented in the poem.
The flowers represent nature in this poem.
There is emotion in this poem. The daisies, wind, and dew represent nature in this poem.
The grass and snow represent nature in this poem
-Emily Dickinson never married.
-Dickinson attended Amherst Academy and Mount Holyoke Female Seminary
-Dickinson died on May 15, 1886
-Her poems never published until after she was dead

"The Poetry of Emily Dickinson. Complete Poems of 1924. Bartleby.com." The Poetry of Emily Dickinson. Complete Poems of 1924. Bartleby.com. N.p., n.d. Web. 29 Sept. 2013.
"Biography of Emily Dickinson." Biography of Emily Dickinson. N.p., n.d. Web. 29 Sept. 2013.
Becoming individual because of the broken heart.

BEAUTY crowds me till I die,
Beauty, mercy have on me!
But if I expire today,
Let it be in sight of thee

Nature will either punish or reward her.
Self-based plot because she keeps saying how she's glowing.
Deep emotion
TO be alive is power,
Existence in itself,
Without a further function,
Omnipotence enough.

To be alive and Will—
’T is able as a God!
The Further of ourselves be what—
Such being Finitude?
power of the individual
This poem gives a major reference to nature while also giving a double meaning in her writing.
While adding emotion, this poem reflects nature and the seasons changing. as well as a note of animals which are evident in Romanticism.
The focus on love in this poem makes it evident of emotion, as well as referral to the circle of life
This is an example of Romanticism because of the mysterious vibe it gives with the unknown of where she will be when she dies. Also, the refrence to love shows the emotion Emily is portraying.
The focus of the seas gives a feel to Romanticism because of the nature that is involved in that.
The mysteries of the unknown are shown of Romanticism literature as well as the emotion of love being shown.
nature has knowledge because the wind directs the ships.
Mysteriousness of universe.
man is good in nature. avarice=greed for wealth.
-Born in Massachusetts on December 10, 1830.
-Very independent. She rarely went out.
-Almost in complete isolation in the 1860s.
"Emily Dickinson." Poets.org. Academy of American Poets, n.d. Web. 30 Sept. 2013.
1. This Poem has,,,

Formal language
Provides a "feeling" of the scene
Emotion intensity
Declares that intuition can lead them to a understanding of themselves and their world.
2. This Poem has...

There is no development shown in characters
Provides a ''feeling'' of the scene.
3. This poem has...

Characters and the setting is apart from society
Formal language
Good receive justice
Plot arranged around a crisis
Provides a ''feeling'' of the scene
Emotion intensity
4. This Poem has...

Formal Language
Idealism of self
''Feeling'' of the scene is demonstrated
Emotion intensity
Subjective perception
5. This poem has...

6. This Poem has...

Formal language
Plot arranged around a crisis
Plot deals with romantic love
idealism of self
Nature as refuge/source of knowledge
7. This Poem has...

Formal language
Nature as refuge, source of knowledge and/or spirituality
8. This Poem has...

Formal language
Nature as refuge, source of knowledge
9. This Poem has...

Formal Language
Involves romantic love
Emotion intensity
no development shown in characters
10. This Poem has...

Formal language
Nature is the source of refuge and knowledge.
Provides ''feeling''
Nature can either punish or reward
11. This Poem has..

Formal language
Plot arranged around a crisis.
No development shown in characters
12. This Poem has...

Formal language
Emotion intensity
Provides a ''feeling'' of the scene.
13. This Poem has...

Formal language
Good receive justice
Plot arranged around a crisis
Emotion intensity
Full transcript