Emily Dickinson

Evening Poetry, June 19

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Mother Nature

by Emily Dickinson

Nature, the gentlest mother,

Impatient of no child,

The feeblest or the waywardest,–

Her admonition mild

In forest and the hill

By traveller is heard,

Restraining rampant squirrel

Or too impetuous bird.

How fair her conversation,

A summer afternoon,–

Her household, her assembly;

And when the sun goes down

Her voice among the aisles

Incites the timid prayer

Of the minutest cricket,

The most unworthy flower.

When all the children sleep

She turns as long away

As will suffice to light her lamps;

Then, bending from the sky

With infinite affection

And infinite care,

Her golden finger on her lip,

Wills silence everywhere.

You can find this poem in Hope is the Thing With Feathers.

Evening Poetry, June 8

Kim1 Comment

I Never Saw a Moor

by Emily Dickinson

I never saw a moor,

I never saw the sea;

Yet know I how the heather looks,

And what a wave must be.

I never spoke with God,

Nor visited in heaven;

Yet certain am I of the spot

As if the chart were given.

You can find this poem on Favorite Poems: Old and New.

Evening Poetry, June 1

Kim2 Comments

Morning

by Emily Dickinson

Will there really be a morning?

Is there such a thing as day?

Could I see it from the mountains

If I were as tall as they?

Has it feet like water-lilies?

Has it feathers 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.

You can find this poem in Favorite Poems Old and New selected by Helen Ferris.