Poems by Emily Dickinson, Three Series, Complete
Iqtiboslar 128
So unsuspected violets
Within the fields lie low,
Too late for striving fingers
That passed, an hour ago.
2 kishiga yoqdi
Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.
Not one of all the purple host
Who took the flag to-day
Can tell the definition,
So clear, of victory,
As he, defeated, dying,
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Break, agonized and clear!
1 kishiga yoqdi
Life is but life, and death but death!
Bliss is but bliss, and breath but breath!
1 kishiga yoqdi