I never felt at Home — Below —-
by Emily Dickinson (1830–1886)
I never felt at Home — Below —-
And in the Handsome Skies
I shall not feel at Home — I know —
I don't like Paradise —
Because it's Sunday — all the time —
And Recess — never comes —
And Eden'll be so lonesome
Bright Wednesday Afternoons —
If God could make a visit —
Or ever took a Nap —
So not to see us — but they say
Himself — a Telescope
Perennial beholds us —
Myself would run away
From Him — and Holy Ghost — and All —
But there's the "Judgement Day"!
More poems by Emily Dickinson
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Because I could not stop for Death—
He kindly stopped for me—
The Carriage held but just Ourselves— …
-
There is a pain — so utter —
It swallows substance up —
Then covers the Abyss with Trance — …
-
A charm invests a face
Imperfectly beheld.
The lady dare not lift her veil …
-
There came a Wind like a Bugle —
It quivered through the Grass
And a Green Chill upon the Heat …
All poems by Emily Dickinson →