This Chasm, Sweet, upon my life
I mention it to you,
When Sunrise through a fissure drop
The Day must follow too.
If we demur, it's gaping sides
Disclose as 'twere a Tomb
Ourself am lying straight wherein
The Favorite of Doom -
When it has just contained a Life
Then, Darling, it will close
And yet so bolder every Day
So turbulent it grows
I'm tempted half to stitch it up
With a remaining Breath
I should not miss in yielding, though
To Him, it would be Death -
And so I bear it big about
My Burial - before
A Life quite ready to depart
Can harass me no more.
Emily Dickinson
Musicians wrestle everywhere -
All day - among the crowded air
I hear the silver strife -
And - waking - long before the morn -
Such transport breaks upon the town
I think it that "New life"...
No Notice gave She, but a Change -
No Message, but a Sigh -
For Whom, the Time did not suffice
That She should specify.
She was not warm, though Summer shone
Nor scrupulous of cold
Though Rime by Rime...
Within my Garden, rides a Bird
Upon a single Wheel -
Whose spokes a dizzy Music make
As 'twere a travelling Mill -
He never stops, but slackens
Above the Ripest Rose -
Partakes without alighting
And p...