It struck me — every Day —
by Emily Dickinson (1830–1886) English
It struck me — every Day —
The Lightning was as new
As if the Cloud that instant slit
And let the Fire through —
It burned Me — in the Night —
It Blistered to My Dream —
It sickened fresh upon my sight —
With every Morn that came —
I though that Storm — was brief —
The Maddest — quickest by —
But Nature lost the Date of This —
And left it in the Sky —
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— …
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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 →