Page:The complete poems of Emily Dickinson, (IA completepoemsofe00dick 1).pdf/346

Speech is a symptom of affection,

1

Split the lark and you ’ll find the music,

1

Step lightly on this narrow spotl

1

Success is counted sweetest

1

Summer begins to have the look,

1

Summer for thee grant I may be

1

Superfluous were the sun

1

Superiority to fate

1

Surgeons must be very careful

1

Sweet hours have perished here;

1

Sweet is the swamp with its secret,

1

Taken from men this morning,

1

Talk with prudence to a beggar

1

That I did always love,

1

That is solemn we have ended, —

1

That Love is all there is,

1

That she forgot me was the least,

1

That short, potential stir

1

That such have died enables us

1

The bat is dun with wrinkled wings

1

The bee is not afraid of me,.in

1

The Bible is an antique volume

1

The blunder is to estimate,—

1

The body grows outside, —

1

The bone that has no marrow;

1

The brain is wider than the sky,

1

The brain within its groove

1

The bustle in a house

1

The butterfly obtains

1

The butterfly’s assumption-gown,

1

The clouds their backs together laid,

1

The cricket sang,

1

The daisy follows soft the sun,

1

The day came slow, till five o’clock,

1

The Devil, had he fidelity,

1

The difference between despair

1

The distance that the dead have gone

1

The Duties of the Wind are few

1

The dying need but little, dear,—

1

The Face we choose to miss,

1

The farthest thunder that I heard

1

The feet of people walking home

1

The Future never spoke,

1

The gentian weaves her fringes,

1

The gleam of an heroic act,

1

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