“Inebriate of Air — am I — And Debauchee of Dew — Reeling — thro endless summer days — From Inns of Molten Blue —” — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
The Pleading of the Summer - That other Prank - of Snow - That Cushions Mystery with Tulle, For fear the Squirrels… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
There is a Zone whose even Years No Solstice interrupt - Whose Sun constructs perpetual Noon Whose perfect Seasons wait - Whose… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
To see the Summer Sky Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie— True Poems flee— — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
I think of love, and you, and my heart grows full and warm, and my breath stands still... I can feel a… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
I have a Bird in spring Which for myself doth sing - The spring decoys. And as the summer nears - And… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
Love is like the wild rose-briar; Friendship like the holly-tree. The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms, But which will bloom… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
As Summer into Autumn slips And yet we sooner say "The Summer" than "the Autumn," lest We turn the sun away, And… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“If you were coming in the fall, I'd brush the summer by, With half a smile and half a spurn, As housewives… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
Two Seasons, it is said, exist- The Summer of the Just, And this of Ours, diversified With Prospect, and with Frost- May… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
Inebriate of air am I, And debauchee of dew, Reeling, through endless summer days, From inns of molten blue. — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
The last of Summer is Delight - Deterred by Retrospect. 'Tis Ecstasy's revealed Review - Enchantment's Syndicate. To meet it - nameless… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
Answer July- Where is the Bee- Where is the Blush- Where is the Hay? Ah, said July- Where is the Seed- Where… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
A soft Sea washed around the House A Sea of Summer Air And rose and fell the magic Planks That sailed without… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
Further in Summer than the Birds Pathetic from the Grass A minor Nation celebrates Its unobtrusive Mass. No Ordinance be seen So… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
A Light exists in Spring Not present on the Year At any other period - When March is scarcely here A Color stands abroad… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“Could you tell me how to grow--or is it unconveyed--like Melody--or Witchcraft?” — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
It might be lonelier Without the Loneliness - I’m so accustomed to my Fate - Perhaps the Other - Peace - Would interrupt the… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“Inebriate of Air — am I — And Debauchee of Dew — Reeling — thro endless summer days — From Inns of Molten Blue —” — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
Luck is not chance, it's toil; fortune's expensive smile is earned. — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
The abdication of Belief Makes the Behavior small- Better an ignis fatuus Than no illume at all. — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“He ate and drank the precious words, His spirit grew robust; He knew no more that he was poor, Nor that his frame was… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
I SEE thee better in the dark, I do not need a light. The love of thee a prism be Excelling violet. I see… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
