Poems by Emily Dickinson Part 49

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VIII.

To lose thee, sweeter than to gain All other hearts I knew.

'T is true the drought is dest.i.tute, But then I had the dew!

The Caspian has its realms of sand, Its other realm of sea; Without the sterile perquisite No Caspian could be.

IX.

 

Poor little heart!

Did they forget thee?

Then dinna care! Then dinna care!

Proud little heart!

Did they forsake thee?

Be debonair! Be debonair!

Frail little heart!

I would not break thee: Could'st credit me? Could'st credit me?

Gay little heart!

Like morning glory Thou'll wilted be; thou'll wilted be!

X.

FORGOTTEN.

There is a word Which bears a sword Can pierce an armed man.

It hurls its barbed syllables,-- At once is mute again.

But where it fell The saved will tell On patriotic day, Some epauletted brother Gave his breath away.

Wherever runs the breathless sun, Wherever roams the day, There is its noiseless onset, There is its victory!

Behold the keenest marksman!

The most accomplished shot!

Time's sublimest target Is a soul 'forgot'!

XI.

I've got an arrow here; Loving the hand that sent it, I the dart revere.

Fell, they will say, in 'skirmish'!

Vanquished, my soul will know, By but a simple arrow Sped by an archer's bow.

XII.

THE MASTER.

He fumbles at your spirit As players at the keys Before they drop full music on; He stuns you by degrees,

Prepares your brittle substance For the ethereal blow, By fainter hammers, further heard, Then nearer, then so slow

Your breath has time to straighten, Your brain to bubble cool, -- Deals one imperial thunderbolt That scalps your naked soul.

XIII.

Heart, we will forget him!

You and I, to-night!

You may forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.

When you have done, pray tell me, That I my thoughts may dim; Haste! lest while you're lagging, I may remember him!

XIV.

Father, I bring thee not myself, -- That were the little load; I bring thee the imperial heart I had not strength to hold.

The heart I cherished in my own Till mine too heavy grew, Yet strangest, heavier since it went, Is it too large for you?

Poems by Emily Dickinson Part 49

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Poems by Emily Dickinson Part 49 summary

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