Poems by Emily Dickinson, Three Series, Complete · Emily Dickinson
Chapter 1
Chapter 2 of 146 · 1 min read
SUCCESS.
[Published in "A Masque of Poets" at the request of "H.H.," the author's fellow-townswoman and friend.]
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!
II.
Our share of night to bear, Our share of morning, Our blank in bliss to fill, Our blank in scorning.
Here a star, and there a star, Some lose their way. Here a mist, and there a mist, Afterwards — day!
III.
ROUGE ET NOIR.
Soul, wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost, indeed, But tens have won an all.
Angels' breathless ballot Lingers to record thee; Imps in eager caucus Raffle for my soul.
