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Emily Dickinson

Drab Habitation of Whom?

893

Drab Habitation of Whom?
Tabernacle or Tomb—
Or Dome of Worm—
Or Porch of Gnome—
Or some Elf's Catacomb?

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Hope is a thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without words
And never stops at all.

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Where Ships of Purple—gently toss

265

Where Ships of Purple—gently toss—
On Seas of Daffodil—
Fantastic Sailors—mingle—
And then—the Wharf is still!

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Not that We did, shall be the test

823

Not that We did, shall be the test
When Act and Will are done
But what Our Lord infers We would
Had We diviner been—

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Love—is anterior to Life

917

Love—is anterior to Life—
Posterior—to Death—
Initial of Creation, and
The Exponent of Earth—

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One need not be a chamber to be haunted;
One need not be a house;
The brain has corridors surpassing
Material place.

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Herein a Blossom lies

899

Herein a Blossom lies—
A Sepulchre, between—
Cross it, and overcome the Bee—
Remain—'tis but a Rind.

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Fame is the tine that Scholars leave

866

Fame is the tine that Scholars leave
Upon their Setting Names—
The Iris not of Occident
That disappears as comes—

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The Dust behind I strove to join

992

The Dust behind I strove to join
Unto the Disk before—
But Sequence ravelled out of Sound
Like Balls upon a Floor—

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A darting fear—a pomp—a tear

87

A darting fear—a pomp—a tear—
A waking on a morn
To find that what one waked for,
Inhales the different dawn.

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Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson