poet Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

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Of Bronze—and Blaze

290

Of Bronze—and Blaze—
The North—Tonight—
So adequate—it forms—
So preconcerted with itself—
So distant—to alarms—
And Unconcern so sovereign
To Universe, or me—
Infects my simple spirit
With Taints of Majesty—
Till I take vaster attitudes—
And strut upon my stem—
Disdaining Men, and Oxygen,
For Arrogance of them—

My Splendors, are Menagerie—
But their Completeless Show
Will entertain the Centuries
When I, am long ago,
An Island in dishonored Grass—
Whom none but Beetles—know.

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004

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Comments about Of Bronze—and Blaze by Emily Dickinson

  • Tandinn Pee (11/19/2017 9:34:00 AM)

    Nice piece

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