Of Bronze — and Blaze —
The North — tonight —
So adequate — it forms —
So preconcerted with itself —
So distant — to alarms —
An 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 Competeless Show
Will entertain the Centuries
When I, am long ago,
An Island in dishonored Grass —
Whom none but Daisies — know.
- Emily Dickinson (319)
TAINTS OF MAJESTY?? YOU KNOW WHAT IT ITS MY BOIS. SHE SAID TAINTS SHE SAID TAINTS IT IS TAINTS
The Red—Blaze—is the Morning—
The Violet—is Noon—
The Yellow—Day—is falling—
And after that—is none—
But Miles of Sparks—at Evening—
Reveal the Width that burned—
The Territory Argent—that
Never yet—consumed—
- Emily Dickinson (469)
CONSUME YOUR TERRITORY ARGENT WITH SPONSORED BALLSHAVERS. EMILY SAID TO