Emily Dickinson

(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)

She Hideth Her The Last - Poem by Emily Dickinson

557

She hideth Her the last—
And is the first, to rise—
Her Night doth hardly recompense
The Closing of Her eyes—

She doth Her Purple Work—
And putteth Her away
In low Apartments in the Sod -
As worthily as We.

To imitate her life
As impotent would be
As make of Our imperfect Mints,
The Julep—of the Bee—


Comments about She Hideth Her The Last by Emily Dickinson

  • Gold Star - 52,212 Points Frank James Ryan Jr...fjr (6/18/2015 2:24:00 AM)

    Who but only Dickinson could describe aflower as pictorially as this? (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
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  • Gold Star - 52,212 Points Frank James Ryan Jr...fjr (6/18/2015 2:23:00 AM)

    Ah! Who but only Dickinson, could describe a flower this pictorially? (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: purple, work, night, life, rose



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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