A Few Poems by Emily Dickinson

#305
The difference between Despair
And Fear--is like the One
Between the instant of a Wreck--
And when the Wreck has been--

The Mind is smooth--no Motion--
Contented as the Eye
Upon the Forehead of a Bust--
That knows--it cannot see--


#35
A Nameless Rose

Nobody knows this little Rose--
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it--
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey--
On it's breast to lie--
Only a Bird will wonder--
Only a Breeze will sigh--
Ah Little Rose--how easy
For such as thee to die!


#101
Will there really be a "Morning"?
Is there such a thing as "Day"?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as all as they?

Has it feet like Water lilies?
Has it feather like a Bird?
Is it brought from famous countries
Of which I have never heard?

Oh some Scholar! Oh some Sailor!
Oh some Wise Man from the skies!
Please to tell a little Pilgrim
Where the place called "Morning" lies!