large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_1_dickinson_64kb_24
large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_1_dickinson_64kb
English
7245
The plenty hurt me, 't was so new,    Myself felt ill and odd, As berry of a mountain bush Transplanted to the road. Nor was I hungry; so I found That hunger was a way Of persons outside windows, The entering takes away. THE PLENTY HURT ME TWAS SO NEW MYSELF FELT ILL AND AWED AS BERRY OF A MOUNTAIN BUSH TRANSPLANTED TO THE ROAD NOR WAS I HUNGRY SO I FOUND THAT HUNGER WAS AWAY OF PERSONS OUTSIDE WINDOWS THE ENTERING TAKES AWAY
days; It half endears the abstinence, And pain is missed in praise. As flavors cheer retarded guests With banquetings to be, So spices stimulate the time Till my small library. It may be wilderness without, Far feet of failing men, But holiday excludes the night, And it is bells within. I thank these kinsmen of the shelf; Their countenances bland Enamour in prospective, And satisfy, obtained. XLIX. This merit hath the worst, -- It cannot be again. When Fate hath taunted last And thrown her furthest stone, The maimed may pause and breathe, And glance securely round. The deer invites no longer Than it eludes the hound. L. HUNGER. I had been hungry all the years; My noon had come, to dine; I, trembling, drew the table near, And touched the curious wine. 'T was this on tables I had seen, When turning, hungry, lone, I looked in windows, for the wealth I could not hope to own. I did not know the ample bread, 'T was so unlike the crumb The birds and I had often shared In Nature's dining-room.  GOOD TO TURN FAR ENDS OF TIRED DAYS IT HALF ENDEARS THE ABSTINENCE AND PAIN IS MISSED IN PRAISE AS FLAVORS CHEER RETARDED GUESTS WITH BANQUETINGS TO BE SO SPICES STIMULATE THE TIME TILL MY SMALL LIBRARY IT MAY BE WILDERNESS WITHOUT FAR FEET OF FAILING MEN BUT HOLIDAY EXCLUDES THE NIGHT AND IT IS BELLS WITHIN I THANK THESE KINSMEN OF THE SHELF THEIR COUNTENANCE IS BLAND ENAMOUR IN PERSPECTIVE AND SATISFY OBTAINED FORTY NINE THIS MERIT HATH THE WORST IT CANNOT BE AGAIN WHEN FATE HATH TAUNTED LAST AND THROWN HER FURTHEST STONE THE MAIMED MAY PAUSE AND BREATHE AND GLANCE SECURELY ROUND THE DEER INVITES NO LONGER THEN IT ELUDES THE HOUND FIFTY HUNGER I HAD BEEN HUNGRY ALL THE YEARS MY NOON HAD COME TO DINE I TREMBLING DREW THE TABLE NEAR AND TOUCHED THE CURIOUS WINE TWAS THIS ON TABLES I HAD SEEN WHEN TURNING HUNGRY LONE I LOOKED IN WINDOWS FOR THE WEALTH I COULD NOT HOPE TO OWN I DID NOT KNOW THE AMPLE BREAD TWAS SO UNLIKE THE CRUMB THE BIRDS AND I HAD OFTEN SHARED IN NATURE'S DINING ROOM
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