I Was A Phoebe-nothing More-
Emily Dickinson
1009 I was a Phoebe—nothing more— A Phoebe—nothing less— The little note that others dropt I fitted into place— I dwelt too low that any seek— Too shy, that any blame— A Phoebe makes a little print Upon the Floors of Fame—
Next 10 Poems
- Emily Dickinson : I Was The Slightest In The House
- Emily Dickinson : I Watched The Moon Around The House
- Emily Dickinson : I Watcher Her Face To See Which Way
- Emily Dickinson : I Went To Heaven,--
- Emily Dickinson : I Went To Thank Her
- Emily Dickinson : I Worked For Chaff And Earning Wheat
- Emily Dickinson : I Would Distil A Cup
- Emily Dickinson : I Would Not Paint-a Picture
- Emily Dickinson : I Years Had Been From Home,
- Emily Dickinson : I'd Rather Recollect A Setting
Previous 10 Poems
- Emily Dickinson : I Want-it Pleaded-all Its Life
- Emily Dickinson : I Tried To Think A Lonelier Thing
- Emily Dickinson : I Took One Draught Of Life-
- Emily Dickinson : I Took My Power In My Hand
- Emily Dickinson : I Tie My Hat-i Crease My Shawl
- Emily Dickinson : I Thought The Train Would Never Come-
- Emily Dickinson : I Thought That Nature Was Enough
- Emily Dickinson : I Think To Live-may Be A Bliss
- Emily Dickinson : I Think The Longest Hour Of All
- Emily Dickinson : I Think The Hemlock Likes To Stand
