To see her is a Picture —

To see her is a Picture —
To hear her is a Tune —
To know her an Intemperance
As innocent as June —
To know her not — Affliction —
To own her for a Friend
A warmth as near as if the Sun
Were shining in your Hand.

Emily Dickinson

I believe that an oriole is the most probable candidate for “she”. Oriole is a small beautiful songbird. She is an active singer early summer.

To see her is a Picture —
To hear her is a Tune —
To know her an is so innocent
A luxury as June —
Not to know her is a sorrow —
To own her for a Friend is
A warmth as near as if the Sun
Were shining in your Hand.

He was weak, and I was strong — then —

So He let me lead him in —
I was weak, and He was strong then —
So I let him lead me — Home.

‘Twasn’t far — the door was near —
'Twasn’t dark — for He went — too —
'Twasn’t loud, for He said nought —
That was all I cared to know.

Day knocked — and we must part —
Neither — was strongest — now —
He strove — and I strove — too —
We didn’t do it — tho’!

Emily Dickinson

The answer is trivial: competition between my shadow and me. 

She died — this was the way she died.

She died — this was the way she died.
And when her breath was done
Took up her simple wardrobe
And started for the sun.
Her little figure at the gate
The Angels must have spied,
Since I could never find her
Upon the mortal side.

Emily Dickinson

Who is she? The fourth line “And started for the sun” suggests that she is a flower, any of which follows the sun, until he sinks below the horizon. I think the most probable candidate of “She” is a daisy, her favorite flower.

She died — this was the way she died.
When she took her last breath
She picked up her frugal dress (Her leaves were dried up)
And follow the sun until he sank. (This suggests death)
The Angels must have seen,
Her little figure at the gate of heaven (She must have arrived in Paradise)
Since I could never find her
Outside the gate of heaven.

She died at play,

She died at play,

Gambolled away

Her lease of spotted hours,

Then sank as gaily as a Turk

Upon a Couch of flowers.

Her ghost strolled softly o'er the hill

Yesterday, and Today,

Her vestments as the silver fleece —

Her countenance as spray.

Emily Dickinson

Emily describes dandelion’s flower head dried up and spraying seeds,

She died in high spirit

And skipped away

Her lease time left

Then as gaily as a Turk

Upon a couch of flowers

Her ghost strolled softly over the hill

Yesterday and today

Her robe is as silver fleece

Her face is as fog.

As children bid the guest good-night

As children bid the guest good-night,
And then reluctant turn,
My flowers raise their pretty lips,
Then put their nightgowns on.

As children leap when they wake,
Merry that it is morn,
My flowers from a hundred cribs
Will peep, and prance again.

Emily Dickinson

Answer is: moonflower

As children tell the guest good-night.
And then return reluctantly,
My flowers open their pretty lips,
Then wear nightgowns.

As children leap when they wake,
Happy that it is morn,
My flowers will peep
From many beds, and leap again.

We should not mind so small a flower —

We should not mind so small a flower —

Except it quiet bring

Our little garden that we lost

Back to the Lawn again.

So spicy her Carnations nod —

So drunken, reel her Bees —

So silver steal a hundred flutes

From out a hundred trees —

That whoso sees this little flower

By faith may clear behold

The Bobolinks around the throne

And Dandelions gold.

Emily Dickinson

The answer to the puzzle is saffron crocus, from which high priced spice is made. It heralds that spring has come as well as bobolink and dandelion. Saffron is known as the most expensive spice per gram, because only stigma and style are collected and dried from the little flower. Emily’s simile is appropriate; so silver steal a hundred flutes

From out a hundred trees.

Simple version

We should not mind such a small flower —

However, it brings quietly

Our little garden that we lost in winter

Back to the Lawn again.

So spicy that carnations (in the garden) bow —

So drunken bees (in the garden) totter —

So silver a hundred flutes should be manufactured

Out of a hundred trees —

Whoever sees this little flower

Surely may gaze at

The bobolinks and gold dandelions

Serve around the throne.

There came a Wind like a Bugle —

There came a Wind like a Bugle —
It quivered through the Grass
And a Green Chill upon the Heat
So ominous did pass
We barred the Windows and the Doors
As from an Emerald Ghost —
The Doom’s electric Moccasin
That very instant passed —
On a strange Mob of panting Trees
And Fences fled away
And Rivers where the Houses ran
Those looked that lived — that Day —
The Bell within the steeple wild
The flying tidings told —
How much can come
And much can go,
And yet abide the World!

Emily Dickinson

A simpler version

The poem tells not hurricane but violent tornade. not elctric: amber

A wind came like a bugle.
It quivered through the grass
And a green chill did pass
Upon the ominous heat,

We barred the windows and the doors
As if we escape from an emerald ghost,
That very instant the doom’s
Amber moccasin passed

On a strange Mob of panting Trees
And Fences fled away and rivers
Where the houses forced out
Cheerfully living people that day.

The wild bell in the steeple
Told the weather in the sky
How much can come
And much can go,
And yet people endured!