large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_1_dickinson_64kb_73
large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_1_dickinson_64kb
English
7245
It is not bird, it has no nest; Nor band, in brass and scarlet dressed, Nor tambourine, nor man; It is not hymn from pulpit read,    The morning stars the treble led On time's first afternoon! Some say it is the spheres at play! Some say that bright majority Of vanished dames and men! IT IS NOT BIRD IT HAS NO NEST NOR BAND IN BRASS AND SCARLET DREST NOR TAMBOURINE NOR MAN IT IS NOT HIM FROM PULPIT RED THE MORNING STARS THE TREBLE LEAD ON TIME'S FIRST AFTERNOON SOME SAY IT IS THE SPHERES AT PLAY SOME SAY THAT BRIGHT MAJORITY OF VANISHED DAMES AND MEN
to the latch My hand, with trembling care, Lest back the awful door should spring, And leave me standing there. I moved my fingers off As cautiously as glass, And held my ears, and like a thief Fled gasping from the house. LIV. PRAYER. Prayer is the little implement Through which men reach Where presence is denied them. They fling their speech By means of it in God's ear; If then He hear, This sums the apparatus Comprised in prayer. LV. I know that he exists Somewhere, in silence. He has hid his rare life From our gross eyes. 'T is an instant's play, 'T is a fond ambush, Just to make bliss Earn her own surprise! But should the play Prove piercing earnest, Should the glee glaze In death's stiff stare, Would not the fun Look too expensive? Would not the jest Have crawled too far? LVI. MELODIES UNHEARD. Musicians wrestle everywhere: All day, among the crowded air, I hear the silver strife; And -- waking long before the dawn -- Such transport breaks upon the town I think it that "new life! KED BEFORE I FITTED TO THE LATCH MY HAND WITH TREMBLING CARE LEST BACK THE AWFUL DOOR SHOULD SPRING AND LEAVE ME STANDING THERE I MOVED MY FINGERS OFF AS CAUTIOUSLY AS GLASS AND HELD MY EARS AND LIKE A THIEF FLED GASPING FROM THE HOUSE FIFTY FOUR PRAYER PRAYER IS THE LITTLE IMPLEMENT THROUGH WHICH MEN REACH WHERE PRESENCE IS DENIED THEM THEY FLING THEIR SPEECH BY MEANS OF IT IN GOD'S EAR IF THEN HE HEAR THIS SUMS THE APPARATUS COMPRISED IN PRAYER FIFTY FIVE I KNOW THAT HE EXISTS SOMEWHERE IN SILENCE HE HAS HID HIS RARE LIFE FROM OUR GROSS EYES TIS AN INSTANT'S PLAY TIS A FOND AMBUSH JUST TO MAKE BLISS EARN HER OWN SURPRISE BUT SHOULD THE PLAY PROVE PIERCING EARNEST SHOULD THE GLEE GLAZE IN DEATH'S STIFF STARE WOULD NOT THE FUN LOOK TOO EXPENSIVE WOULD NOT THE JEST HAVE CRAWLED TOO FAR FIFTY SIX MELODIES UNHEARD MUSICIANS WRESTLE EVERYWHERE ALL DAY AMONG THE CROWDED AIR I HEAR THE SILVER STRIFE AND WALKING LONG BEFORE THE DAWN SUCH TRANSPORT BREAKS UPON THE TOWN I THINK IT THAT NEW LIFE
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