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large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_1_dickinson_64kb
English
7245
XI. COMPENSATION. For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ecstasy. For each beloved hour Sharp pittances of years, Bitter contested farthings And coffers heaped with tears. ELEVEN COMPENSATION FOR EACH ECSTATIC INSTANT WE MUST IN ANGUISH PAY IN KEEN AND QUIVERING RATIO TO THE ECSTASY FOR EACH BELOVED HOUR SHARP PITTANCES OF YEARS BITTER CONTESTED FARTHINGS AND COFFERS HEAPED WITH TEARS
rge. VIII. TRIUMPHANT. Who never lost, are unprepared A coronet to find; Who never thirsted, flagons And cooling tamarind. Who never climbed the weary league -- Can such a foot explore The purple territories On Pizarro's shore? How many legions overcome? The emperor will say. How many colors taken On Revolution Day? How many bullets bearest? The royal scar hast thou? Angels, write "Promoted" On this soldier's brow! IX. THE TEST. I can wade grief, Whole pools of it, -- I 'm used to that. But the least push of joy Breaks up my feet, And I tip -- drunken. Let no pebble smile, 'T was the new liquor, -- That was all! Power is only pain, Stranded, through discipline, Till weights will hang. Give balm to giants, And they 'll wilt, like men. Give Himmaleh, -- They 'll carry him! X. ESCAPE. I never hear the word "escape" Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude. I never hear of prisons broad By soldiers battered down, But I tug childish at my bars, -- Only to fail again!  AND WITH BLAZE UNTIL THE DESIGNATED LIGHT REPUDIATE THE FORGE EIGHT TRIUMPHANT WHO NEVER LOST ARE UNPREPARED A CORONET TO FIND WHO NEVER THIRSTED FLAGONS AND COOLING TAMARIND WHO NEVER CLIMBED THE WEARY LEAGUE CAN SUCH A FOOT EXPLORE THE PURPLE TERRITORIES ON PIZARRO'S SHORE HOW MANY LEGIONS OVERCOME THE EMPEROR WILL SAY HOW MANY COLOURS TAKEN ON REVOLUTION DAY HOW MANY BULLETS BEAREST THE ROYAL SCAR HAST THOU ANGEL'S RIGHT PROMOTED ON THIS SOLDIER'S BROW NINE THE TEST I CAN WEIGH GRIEF WHOLE POOLS OF IT I'M USED TO THAT BUT THE LEAST PUSH OF JOY BREAKS UP MY FEET AND I TIP DRUNKEN LET NO PEBBLE SMILE TWAS THE NEW LIQUOR THAT WAS ALL POWER IS ONLY PAIN STRANDED THROUGH DISCIPLINE TILL WEIGHTS WILL HANG GIVE BALM TO GIANTS AND THEY'LL WILT LIKE MEN GIVE HIM A LATE THEY'LL CARRY HIM TEN ESCAPE I NEVER HEAR THE WORD ESCAPE WITHOUT A QUICKER BLOOD A SUDDEN EXPECTATION A FLYING ATTITUDE I NEVER HEAR OF PRISONS BROAD BY SOLDIERS BATTERED DOWN BUT I TUG CHILDISH AT MY BARS ONLY TO FAIL AGAIN
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