Poems by Emily Dickinson Part 26

Futile the winds To a heart in port, -- Done with the compa.s.s, Done with the chart.

Rowing in Eden!

Ah! the sea!

Might I but moor To-night in thee!

VIII.

AT HOME.

The night was wide, and furnished scant With but a single star, That often as a cloud it met Blew out itself for fear.

The wind pursued the little bush, And drove away the leaves November left; then clambered up And fretted in the eaves.

No squirrel went abroad; A dog's belated feet Like intermittent plush were heard Adown the empty street.

To feel if blinds be fast, And closer to the fire Her little rocking-chair to draw, And shiver for the poor,

The housewife's gentle task.

"How pleasanter," said she Unto the sofa opposite, "The sleet than May -- no thee!"

IX.

POSSESSION.

Did the harebell loose her girdle To the lover bee, Would the bee the harebell hallow Much as formerly?

Did the paradise, persuaded, Yield her moat of pearl, Would the Eden be an Eden, Or the earl an earl?

X.

A charm invests a face Imperfectly beheld, -- The lady dare not lift her veil For fear it be dispelled.

But peers beyond her mesh, And wishes, and denies, -- Lest interview annul a want That image satisfies.

XI.

THE LOVERS.

The rose did caper on her cheek, Her bodice rose and fell, Her pretty speech, like drunken men, Did stagger pitiful.

Her fingers fumbled at her work, -- Her needle would not go; What ailed so smart a little maid It puzzled me to know,

Till opposite I spied a cheek That bore another rose; Just opposite, another speech That like the drunkard goes;

A vest that, like the bodice, danced To the immortal tune, -- Till those two troubled little clocks Ticked softly into one.

XII.

In lands I never saw, they say, Immortal Alps look down, Whose bonnets touch the firmament, Whose sandals touch the town, --

Meek at whose everlasting feet A myriad daisies play.

Which, sir, are you, and which am I, Upon an August day?

XIII.

The moon is distant from the sea, And yet with amber hands She leads him, docile as a boy, Along appointed sands.

He never misses a degree; Obedient to her eye, He comes just so far toward the town, Just so far goes away.

Oh, Signor, thine the amber hand, And mine the distant sea, -- Obedient to the least command Thine eyes impose on me.

XIV.

He put the belt around my life, -- I heard the buckle snap, And turned away, imperial, My lifetime folding up Deliberate, as a duke would do A kingdom's t.i.tle-deed, -- Henceforth a dedicated sort, A member of the cloud.

Yet not too far to come at call, And do the little toils That make the circuit of the rest, And deal occasional smiles To lives that stoop to notice mine And kindly ask it in, -- Whose invitation, knew you not For whom I must decline?