Poetry, Series One
Edited by two of her friends:
MABEL LOOMIS TODD & T.W. HIGGINSON
by Emily Dickinson
(1830-1886)

IV. TIME AND ETERNITY.
XXVII.

THE CHARIOT.

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste ( Read more... )

The Gift Outright
By Robert Frost
The land was ours before we were the land’s.
She was our land more than a hundred years
Before we were her people. She was ours
In Massachusetts, in Virginia,
But we were England’s, still colonials,
Possessing what we still were unpossessed by,
Possessed by what we now no more possessed.
Something we were withholding made ( Read more... )

I Didn't Apologize to the Well ( Read more... )

Ode To Enchanted Light
Under the trees light
has dropped from the top of the sky,
light
like a green
latticework of branches,
shining
on every leaf,
drifting down like clean
white sand.
A cicada sends
its sawing song
high into the empty air.
The world is
a glass overflowing with water.

Down by the Salley Gardens

Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet ( Read more... )

Cooking Poem: Ode To Dr. Kitchener By Thomas Hood

Ye Muses nine inspire
    And stir up my poetic fire;
    Teach my burning soul to speak
    With a bubble and a squeak!
Of Dr. Kitchener I fain would sing,
Till pots, and pans, and mighty kettles ring.
       O culinary sage ( Read more... )

Cooking Poem: A New Recipe By William Schwenck Gilbert
Take a pair of sparkling eyes ( Read more... )

When I lie beside him,

His knee presses

Against the underside

Of my knee,

His hand presses

Against my chest,

As if holding me together.

If I wake,

And he isn’t beside me,

I’ll curl up

Like a frightened child,

Lost in the dark,

Afraid to move.

If I wake,

And he isn’t beside me,

The thickest blanket

Won’t keep me warm

But I wake,

And find him

Beside me.

He holds me ( Read more... )

Preface

[Note. -- This Preface was found, in an unfinished condition,
among Wilfred Owen's papers. --S. Sassoon]

This book is not about heroes. English Poetry is not yet fit to speak

of them. Nor is it about deeds or lands, nor anything about glory, honour,

dominion or power,

except War.
Above all, this book is not concerned with ( Read more... )

Darkening of The Light

Like a ghost - is the curtain ( Read more... )