Emily Dickinson Poems

• 251. Nature-sometimes Sears A Sapling
• 252. I Can't Tell You-but You Feel It
• 253. One Year Ago-jots What?
• 254. There Is A Word
• 255. Of Brussels-it Was Not
• 256. To Die-takes Just A Little While
• 257. I Shall Know Why-when Time Is Over
• 258. There Is A June When Corn Is Cut
• 259. I Held A Jewel In My Fingers
• 260. Tell All The Truth
• 261. The Malay-took The Pearl
• 262. Ah, Moon-and Star!
• 263. Death Is Potential To That Man
• 264. The Sun Kept Stooping-stooping
• 265. Are Friends Delight Or Pain
• 266. The Admirations-and Contempts-of Time
• 267. I'll Clutch-and Clutch
• 268. Spring Is The Period
• 269. 'twas The Old-road-through Pain
• 270. Our Lives Are Swiss
• 271. As If The Sea Should Part
• 272. Only God-detect The Sorrow
• 273. God Permit Industrious Angels
• 274. If What We Could—were What We Would
• 275. Least Rivers-docile To Some Sea
• 276. We Thirst At First-'tis Nature's Act
• 277. Size Circumscribes-it Has No Room
• 278. I Haven't Told My Garden Yet
• 279. It Always Felt To Me-a Wrong
• 280. The Sea Said 'come' To The Brook
• 281. Sleep Is Supposed To Be
• 282. The Bustle In A House
• 283. Presentiment Is That Long Shadow On The Lawn
• 284. Much Madness Is Divinest Sense
• 285. At Least-to Pray-is Left-is Left
• 286. He Found My Being-set It Up
• 287. She Staked Her Feathers-gained An Arc
• 288. Heavenly Father
• 289. Not Probable-the Barest Chance
• 290. Best Gains-must Have The Losses' Test
• 291. It Dropped So Low -- In My Regard --
• 292. Her Breast Is Fit For Pearls
• 293. To Make One's Toilette—after Death
• 294. Me Prove It Now-whoever Doubt
• 295. A Death Blow Is A Life Blow To Some
• 296. I Sometimes Drop It, For A Quick
• 297. The Birds Begun At Four O'clock
• 298. A Doubt If It Be Us
• 299. Midsummer, Was It, When They Died
• 300. A Murmur In The Trees—to Note

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