"I died for Beauty — but was scarce
Adjusted in the Tomb
When One who died for Truth, was lain
In an adjoining Room — He questioned softly "Why I failed?"
"For Beauty," I replied — "And I — for Truth — Themself are One — We Brethren, are," He said — And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night — We talked between the Rooms — Until the Moss had reached our lips — And covered up — Our names — "
American poet (1830-1886)
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (December 10, 1830 – May 15, 1886) was an American poet. Virtually unknown in her lifetime, Dickinson has come to be regarded as one of the greatest American poets of the 19th century. Although she wrote (at latest count) 1789 poems, only a few of them were published in her lifetime, all anonymously, and some perhaps without her knowledge.
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Birth Name:
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
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The Brain — is wider than the Sky — For — put them side by side — The one the other will contain
With ease — and you — beside — The Brain is deeper than the sea — For — hold them — Blue to Blue — The one the other will absorb — As sponges — Buckets — do — The Brain is just the weight of God — For — Heft them — Pound for Pound — And they will differ — if they do — As Syllable from Sound —
VI: A SERVICE OF SONG. Some keep the Sabbath going to church;
I keep it staying at home,
With a bobolink for a chorister,
And an orchard for a dome.
Some keep the Sabbath in surplice;
I just wear my wings,
And instead of tolling the bell for church,
Our little sexton sings.
God preaches, — a noted clergyman, — And the sermon is never long;
So instead of getting to heaven at last, I’m going all along!