large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_4_dickinson_64kb_18
large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_4_dickinson_64kb
English
7245
They dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars, Like petals from a rose, When suddenly across the June A wind with fingers goes. They perished in the seamless grass,    No eye could find the place; But God on his repealless list Can summon every face. THEY DROPPED LIKE FLAKES THEY DROPPED LIKE STARS LIKE PETALS FROM A ROSE WHEN SUDDENLY ACROSS THE JUNE A WIND WITH FINGERS GOES THEY PERISHED IN THE SEAMLESS GRASS NO EYE COULD FIND THE PLACE BUT GOD ON HIS REPEALLESS LIST CAN SUMMON EVERY FACE
alive become; Who, had they lived, had died, but when They died, vitality begun. VII. I read my sentence steadily, Reviewed it with my eyes, To see that I made no mistake In its extremest clause, -- The date, and manner of the shame; And then the pious form That "God have mercy" on the soul The jury voted him. I made my soul familiar With her extremity, That at the last it should not be A novel agony, But she and Death, acquainted, Meet tranquilly as friends, Salute and pass without a hint -- And there the matter ends. VIII. I have not told my garden yet, Lest that should conquer me; I have not quite the strength now To break it to the bee. I will not name it in the street, For shops would stare, that I, So shy, so very ignorant, Should have the face to die. The hillsides must not know it, Where I have rambled so, Nor tell the loving forests The day that I shall go, Nor lisp it at the table, Nor heedless by the way Hint that within the riddle One will walk to-day! IX. THE BATTLE-FIELD. FE BLOW TO SOME WHO TILL THEY DIED DID NOT ALIVE BECOME WHO HAD THEY LIVED HAD DIED BUT WHEN THEY DIED VITALITY BEGUN SEVEN I READ MY SENTENCE STEADILY REVIEWED IT WITH MY EYES TO SEE THAT I MADE NO MISTAKE IN ITS EXTREMEST CLAUSE THE DATE AND MANNER OF THE SHAME AND THEN THE PIOUS FORM THAT GOD HAVE MERCY ON THE SOUL THE JURY VOTED HIM I MADE MY SOUL FAMILIAR WITH HER EXTREMITY THAT AT THE LAST IT SHOULD NOT BE A NOVEL AGONY BUT SHE AND DEATH ACQUAINTED MEET TRANQUILLY AS FRIENDS SALUTE AND PASS WITHOUT A HINT AND THERE THE MATTER ENDS EIGHT I HAVE NOT TOLD MY GARDEN YET LEST THAT SHOULD CONQUER ME I HAVE NOT QUITE THE STRENGTH NOW TO BREAK IT TO THE BEE I WILL NOT NAME IT IN THE STREET FOR SHOPS WOULD STARE THAT I SO SHY SO VERY IGNORANT SHOULD HAVE THE FACE TO DIE THE HILLSIDES MUST NOT KNOW IT WHERE I HAVE RAMBLED SO NOR TELL THE LOVING FORESTS THE DAY THAT I SHALL GO NOR LISP IT AT TABLE NOR HEEDLESS BY THE WAY HINT THAT WITHIN THE RIDDLE ONE WILL WALK TO DAY NINE THE BATTLE FIELD
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