The Secret

SOME things that fly there be —
Birds, hours, the bumble-bee:
Of these no elegy.

Some things that stay there be —
Grief, hills, eternity:
Nor this behooveth me.

There are, that resting, rise.
Can I expound the skies?
How still the riddle lies!

First print Life XIV, 14
Johnson 89 | Franklin 68

■→IN POLISH

Text compared with the fascicle and prepared for publication by Teresa Pelka, available under any of the following licenses:
■Creative Commons License 4.0, BY-SA 3.0, and License 2.5.

■→Poems, first print by Higginson and Todd, page 27;
Dash alone for thematic development, please search the Notes, The Outlet.

■Notes for Emily Dickinson’s poetry;
Poems one-by-one print and fascicle comparison,
■Resource for Emily Dickinson’s poetry;
■Google Drive, manuscript fascicles.

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