Witchcraft was hung, in History,
But History and I
Find all the Witchcraft that we need
Around us, every Day
EMILY DICKINSON, The Poems of Emily Dickinson
The sun just touched the morning;
The morning, happy thing,
Supposed that he had come to dwell,
And life would be all spring.
EMILY DICKINSON, "The Sun's Wooing", Poems: Second Series
His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune;
Oh, for a bee's experience
Of clovers and of noon!
EMILY DICKINSON, "The Bee"
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
EMILY DICKINSON, "The Chariot"
I dwell in possibility --
A fairer House than Prose --
More numerous of Windows --
Superior -- for Doors --
Of Chambers as the Cedars --
Impregnable of Eye --
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky --
EMILY DICKINSON, "I Dwell in Possibility"
The life doth prove the precept, who obey shall happy be,
Who will not serve the sovereign, be hanged on fatal tree.
EMILY DICKINSON, "Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine"
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