large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_1_dickinson_64kb_85
large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_1_dickinson_64kb
English
7245
The meadows mine, the mountains mine,    All forests, stintless stars, As much of noon as I could take Between my finite eyes. THE MEADOWS MINE THE MOUNTAINS MINE ALL FORESTS STINTLESS STARS AS MUCH OF NOON AS I COULD TAKE BETWEEN MY FINITE EYES
e of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind. The vane a little to the east Scares muslin souls away; If broadcloth breasts are firmer Than those of organdy, Who is to blame? The weaver? Ah! the bewildering thread! The tapestries of paradise So notelessly are made! XXXV. THE GOAL. Each life converges to some centre Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal, Admitted scarcely to itself, it may be, Too fair For credibility's temerity To dare. Adored with caution, as a brittle heaven, To reach Were hopeless as the rainbow's raiment To touch, Yet persevered toward, surer for the distance; How high Unto the saints' slow diligence The sky! Ungained, it may be, by a life's low venture, But then, Eternity enables the endeavoring Again. XXXVI. SIGHT. Before I got my eye put out, I liked as well to see As other creatures that have eyes, And know no other way. But were it told to me, to-day, That I might have the sky For mine, I tell you that my heart Would split, for size of me. EASIER TO FIND THAN ONE OF HIGHER TEMPERATURE FOR FRIGID HOUR OF MIND THE VANE A LITTLE TO THE EAST SCARES MUSLIN SOULS AWAY IF BROADCLOTH BREASTS ARE FIRMER THAN THOSE OF ORGANDY WHO IS TO BLAME THE WEAVER AH THE BEWILDERING THREAD THE TAPESTRIES OF PARADISE SO NOTELESSLY ARE MADE THIRTY FIVE THE GOAL EACH LIFE CONVERGES TO SOME CENTRE EXPRESSED OR STILL EXISTS IN EVERY HUMAN NATURE A GOAL ADMITTED SCARCELY TO ITSELF IT MAY BE TOO FAIR FOR CREDIBILITIES TEMERITY TO DARE ADORED WITH CAUTION AS A BRITTLE HEAVEN TO REACH WERE HOPELESS AS THE RAINBOW'S RAIMENT TO TOUCH YET PERSEVERED TOWARD SURER FOR THE DISTANCE HOW HIGH UNTO THE SAINT'S SLOW DILIGENCE THE SKY UNGAINED IT MAY BE BY A LIFE'S SLOW VENTURE BUT THEN ETERNITY ENABLES THE ENDEAVORING AGAIN THIRTY SIX SIGHT BEFORE I GOT MY EYE PUT OUT I LIKED AS WELL TO SEE AS OTHER CREATURES THAT HAVE EYES AND KNOW NO OTHER WAY BUT WERE IT TOLD TO ME TO DAY THAT I MIGHT HAVE THE SKY FOR MINE I TELL YOU THAT MY HEART WOULD SPLIT FOR SIGHS OF ME
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