War poems
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There comes a warning like a spy
© Emily Dickinson
There comes a warning like a spy
A shorter breath of Day
A stealing that is not a stealth
And Summers are away --
The Robin is a Gabriel
© Emily Dickinson
The Robin is a Gabriel
In humble circumstances --
His Dress denotes him socially,
Of Transport's Working Classes --
The Bible is an antique Volume --
© Emily Dickinson
The Bible is an antique Volume --
Written by faded men
At the suggestion of Holy Spectres --
Subjects -- Bethlehem --
No Brigadier throughout the Year
© Emily Dickinson
No Brigadier throughout the Year
So civic as the Jay --
A Neighbor and a Warrior too
With shrill felicity
My Wars are laid away in Books --
© Emily Dickinson
My Wars are laid away in Books --
I have one Battle more --
A Foe whom I have never seen
But oft has scanned me o'er --
Make me a picture of the sun
© Emily Dickinson
Make me a picture of the sun --
So I can hang it in my room --
And make believe I'm getting warm
When others call it "Day"!
Let my first Knowing be of thee
© Emily Dickinson
Let my first Knowing be of thee
With morning's warming Light --
And my first Fearing, lest Unknowns
Engulf thee in the night --
It dropped so low -- in my Regard --
© Emily Dickinson
It dropped so low -- in my Regard --
I heard it hit the Ground --
And go to pieces on the Stones
At bottom of my Mind --
If anybody's friend be dead
© Emily Dickinson
If anybody's friend be dead
It's sharpest of the theme
The thinking how they walked alive --
At such and such a time --
I cannot meet the Spring unmoved --
© Emily Dickinson
I cannot meet the Spring unmoved --
I feel the old desire --
A Hurry with a lingering, mixed,
A Warrant to be fair --
I bring an unaccustomed wine
© Emily Dickinson
I bring an unaccustomed wine
To lips long parching
Next to mine,
And summon them to drink;
He forgot -- and I -- remembered
© Emily Dickinson
He forgot -- and I -- remembered --
'Twas an everyday affair --
Long ago as Christ and Peter --
"Warmed them" at the "Temple fire."
Glory is that bright tragic thing
© Emily Dickinson
Glory is that bright tragic thing
That for an instant
Means Dominion --
Warms some poor name
Death warrants are supposed to be
© Emily Dickinson
Death warrants are supposed to be
An enginery of equity
A merciful mistake
A pencil in an Idol's Hand
A Devotee has oft consigned
To Crucifix or Block
As subtle as tomorrow
© Emily Dickinson
As subtle as tomorrow
That never came,
A warrant, a conviction,
Yet but a name.
A prompt -- executive Bird is the Jay --
© Emily Dickinson
A prompt -- executive Bird is the Jay --
Bold as a Bailiff's Hymn --
Brittle and Brief in quality --
Warrant in every line --
A precious -- mouldering pleasure -- 'tis
© Emily Dickinson
A precious -- mouldering pleasure -- 'tis --
To meet an Antique Book --
In just the Dress his Century wore --
A privilege -- I think --
A little bread -- a crust -- a crumb
© Emily Dickinson
A little bread -- a crust -- a crumb --
A little trust -- a demijohn --
Can keep the soul alive --
Not portly, mind! but breathing -- warm --
Conscious -- as old Napoleon,
The night before the Crown!
A Door just opened on a street --
© Emily Dickinson
A Door just opened on a street --
I -- lost -- was passing by --
An instant's Width of Warmth disclosed --
And Wealth -- and Company.
'Twas warm -- at first -- like Us --
© Emily Dickinson
'Twas warm -- at first -- like Us --
Until there crept upon
A Chill -- like frost upon a Glass --
Till all the scene -- be gone.
