by EmilyDickinsonOut of the MorningMother Nature Mother Nature Nature, the gentlest mother,
Impatient of no child,
The feeblest or the waywardest, —
Her admonition mild In forest and the…
by EmilyDickinsonThe SnowThe Blue Jay The Blue Jay No brigadier throughout the year
So civic as the jay.
A neighbor and a warrior too,
With shrill felicity Pursuing winds that censure us…
by EmilyDickinsonA WellThe WindXV To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, —
One clover, and a bee,
And revery.
The revery alone will do
If bees are few.
by EmilyDickinsonUnwarnedXVIXV Each that we lose takes part of us;
A crescent still abides,
Which like the moon, some turbid night,
Is summoned by the tides.
