Contents:
Part I: The Pensive Spring
I Sing to Use the Waiting
There is a Morn by Men Unseen
I had a Guinea Golden
If She had been the Mistletoe
New Feet within my Garden Go
She Bore it
I Taste a Liquor never Brewed
I should not Dare to Leave my Friend

Part II: So Must We Meet Apart
There Came a Day at Summer's Full
The First Day's Night had Come
The Soul Selects her own Society
It was not Death, for I Stood Up
When I was Small, a Woman Died
I Cried at Pity, not at Pain
The Night was Wide
I Cannot Live with you

Part III: Almost Peace
My First Well Day, since Many Ill
It Ceased to Hurt Me
I Like to See it Lap the Miles
Split the Lark, and You'll find the Music
The Crickets Sang
After a Hundred Years
The Clouds their Backs together Laid
I Shall not Murmur

Part IV: My Feet Slip Nearer
The Grave my Little Cottage is
I Did not Reach Thee
My Wars are Laid away in Books
There Came a Wind Like a Bugle
The Going from a World we Know
Upon his Saddle Sprung a Bird
Beauty Crowds Me
I Sing to Use the Waiting

Poems by Emily Dickinson