Editors

Softened by Time's consummate plush,How sleek the woe appearsThat threatened childhood's citadelAnd undermined the years! Bisected now by bleaker griefs,We envy the despairThat devastated childhood's realm,So easy to repair. … [Read more...] about Childish Griefs., By: Emily Dickinson

All overgrown by cunning moss,All interspersed with weed,The little cage of 'Currer Bell,'In quiet Haworth laid. This bird, observing others,When frosts too sharp became,Retire to other latitudes,Quietly did the same, But differed in returning;Since Yorkshire hills are green,Yet not in all the nests I meetCan nightingale be seen. Gathered from many … [Read more...] about Charlotte Brontë’S Grave., By: Emily Dickinson

Just lost when I was saved!Just felt the world go by!Just girt me for the onset with eternity,When breath blew back,And on the other sideI heard recede the disappointed tide! Therefore, as one returned, I feel,Odd secrets of the line to tell!Some sailor, skirting foreign shores,Some pale reporter from the awful doorsBefore the seal! Next time, to stay!Next time, the … [Read more...] about Called Back., By: Emily Dickinson

I started early, took my dog,And visited the sea;The mermaids in the basementCame out to look at me, And frigates in the upper floorExtended hempen hands,Presuming me to be a mouseAground, upon the sands. But no man moved me till the tideWent past my simple shoe,And past my apron and my belt,And past my bodice too, And made as he would eat me upAs wholly as a dewUpon a … [Read more...] about By The Sea., By: Emily Dickinson