Selected Poems by Emily Dickinson

67
Success is counted sweetest Like one in danger, Cautious,
By those who ne'er succeed. I offered him a Crumb
To comprehend a nectar And he unrolled his feathers
Requires sorest need. And rowed him softer home --

Not one of all the purple Host Than Oars divide the Ocean,
Who took the Flag today Too silver for a seam --
Can tell the definition Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon
So clear of Victory Leap, plashless as they swim.

As he defeated -- dying -- 341

On whose forbidden ear After great pain, a formal feeling comes --
The distant strains of triumph The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs --
Burst agonized and clear! The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?
214
I taste a liquor never brewed –  The Feet, mechanical, go round --
From Tankards scooped in Pearl –  Of Ground, or Air, or Ought --
Not all the Frankfort Berries A Wooden way
Yield such an Alcohol! Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone --
Inebriate of air – am I – 
And Debauchee of Dew –  This is the Hour of Lead --
Reeling – thro' endless summer days –  Remembered, if outlived,
From inns of molten Blue –  As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow --
First -- Chill -- then Stupor -- then the letting go –
When "Landlords" turn the drunken Bee
Out of the Foxglove's door –  712
When Butterflies – renounce their "drams" –  Because I could not stop for Death – 
I shall but drink the more! He kindly stopped for me – 
The Carriage held but just Ourselves – 
Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats –  And Immortality.
And Saints – to windows run – 
To see the Tippler We slowly drove – He knew no haste
Leaning against the – Sun! And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
303 For His Civility – 
The Soul selects her own Society --
Then -- shuts the Door -- We passed the School, where Children strove
To her divine Majority -- At Recess – in the Ring – 
Present no more -- We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain – 
We passed the Setting Sun – 
Unmoved -- she notes the Chariots -- pausing --
At her low Gate -- Or rather – He passed us – 
Unmoved -- an Emperor be kneeling The Dews drew quivering and chill – 
Upon her Mat -- For only Gossamer, my Gown – 
My Tippet – only Tulle – 
I've known her -- from an ample nation --
Choose One -- We paused before a House that seemed
Then -- close the Valves of her attention -- A Swelling of the Ground – 
Like Stone – The Roof was scarcely visible – 
The Cornice – in the Ground – 

328 Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet

A Bird came down the Walk --
He did not know I saw --
He bit an Angleworm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw,
And then he drank a Dew
From a convenient Grass --
And then hopped sidewise to the Wall
To let a Beetle pass --
He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all around --
They looked like frightened Beads, I thought --
He stirred his Velvet Head
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity – 
1624
Apparently with no surprise
To any happy Flower
The Frost beheads it at its play --
In accidental power --
The blonde Assassin passes on --
The Sun proceeds unmoved
To measure off another Day
For an Approving God.