My Life Had Stood a Loaded Gun by Dickinson, Emily -- Read -- Imperial Library of Trantor

Index

Cover Title Page Contents About the Author A wounded deer leaps highest A precious, mouldering pleasure ’tis To fight aloud is very brave The brain within its groove I’m nobody! Who are you? I can wade grief I like to see it lap the miles Is Heaven a physician? I took my power in my hand Before I got my eye put out Heart not so heavy as mine I know that he exists ’Tis little I could care for pearls I felt a cleavage in my mind The reticent volcano keeps One of the ones that Midas touched I dreaded that first robin so A route of evanescence Who robbed the woods The leaves, like women, interchange It sounded as if the streets were running The rat is the concisest tenant Where ships of purple gently toss Blazing in gold and quenching in purple There is a word He fumbles at your spirit Because I could not stop for Death Essential oils are wrung Death is like the insect Bereaved of all, I went abroad I felt a funeral in my brain Fame is a fickle food My Wheel is in the dark Summer begins to have the look To-day or this noon The Bible is an antique volume Candor, my tepid Friend On my volcano grows the grass Color, Caste, Denomination Doom is the House Without the Door I dwell in Possibility To intercept his yellow plan All the letters I can write It’s coming – the postponeless Creature My life had stood a loaded gun Good morning, Midnight! Longing is like the seed A toad can die of light! Follow Penguin Copyright Page

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