Water Is Taught By Thirst;

Water is taught by thirst;
Land, by the oceans passed;
Transport, by throe;
Peace, by its battles told;
Love, by memorial mould;
Birds, by the snow.

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson, born on December 10, 1830, and died on May 15, 1886, was an American poet who is extensively known for her innovative and poignant use of language and form. Her work, largely unpublished and unknown during her lifetime, has since positioned her among the greatest American poets. Although she seldom left her home, her poetry delved deeply into themes of death, immortality, nature, and human consciousness. Dickinson's unique style continues to influence poets and readers today.

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

A Train Went Through A Burial Gate,

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson, Simple Poetry

Ending.

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson, Simple Poetry

With A Flower.

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson, Simple Poetry

"The One That Could Repeat The Summer Day"

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson, Simple Poetry

English

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Thirst.

We thirst at first, -- 't is Nature's act;
And later, when we die,
A little water supplicate
Of fingers going by.

It intimates the finer want,
Whose adequate supply
Is that great water in the west
Termed immortality.

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

To Learn The Transport By The Pain,

To learn the transport by the pain,
As blind men learn the sun;
To die of thirst, suspecting
That brooks in meadows run;

To stay the homesick, homesick feet
Upon a foreign shore
Haunted by native lands, the while,
And blue, beloved air --

This is the sovereign anguish,
This, the signal woe!
These are the patient laureates
Whose voices, trained below,

Ascend in ceaseless carol,
Inaudible, indeed,
To us, the duller scholars
Of the mysterious bard!

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Water

The water understands
Civilization well;
It wets my foot, but prettily
It chills my life, but wittily,
It is not disconcerted,
It is not broken-hearted:
Well used, it decketh joy,
Adorneth, doubleth joy:
Ill used, it will destroy,
In perfect time and measure
With a face of golden pleasure
Elegantly destroy.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Drawing Water.

Dark, as if it would not tell,
    Lies the water, still and cool:
Dip the bucket in the well,
    Lift it from the precious pool!

Up it comes all brown and dim,
    Telling of the twilight sweet:
As it rises to the brim
    See the sun and water meet!

See the friends each other hail!
    "Here you are!" cries Master Sun;
Mistress Water from the pail
    Flashes back, alive with fun!

Have you not a tale to tell,
    Water, as I take you home?
Tell me of the hidden well
    Whence you, first of all, did come.

Of it you have kept some flavour
    Through long paths of darkling strife:
Water all has still a savour
    Of the primal well of life!

Could you show the lovely way
    Back and up through sea and sk...

George MacDonald

The Outlet.

My river runs to thee:
Blue sea, wilt welcome me?

My river waits reply.
Oh sea, look graciously!

I'll fetch thee brooks
From spotted nooks, --

Say, sea,
Take me!

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

The Sea.

An everywhere of silver,
With ropes of sand
To keep it from effacing
The track called land.

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson