Emily Dickinson: 'Tis so appalling - it exhilarates - So over Horro



'Tis so appalling - it exhilarates -
So over Horror, it half Captivates -
The Soul stares after it, secure -
To know the worst, leaves no dread more -
To scan a Ghost, is faint -
But grappling, conquers it -
How easy, Torment, now -
Suspense kept sawing so -

The Truth, is Bald, and Cold -
But that will hold -
If any are not sure -
We show them - prayer -
But we, who know,
Stop hoping, now -

Looking at Death, is Dying -
Just let go the Breath -
And not the pillow at your Cheek
So Slumbereth -

Others, Can wrestle -
Your's, is done -
And so of Wo, bleak dreaded - come,
It sets the Fright at liberty -
And Terror's free -
Gay, Ghastly, Holiday!


Emily Dickinson

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