The Wind — tapped like a tired Man —
by Emily Dickinson (1830–1886) English
The Wind — tapped like a tired Man —
And like a Host — "Come in"
I boldly answered — entered then
My Residence within
A Rapid — footless Guest —
To offer whom a Chair
Were as impossible as hand
A Sofa to the Air —
No Bone had He to bind Him —
His Speech was like the Push
Of numerous Humming Birds at once
From a superior Bush —
His Countenance — a Billow —
His Fingers, as He passed
Let go a music — as of tunes
Blown tremulous in Glass —
He visited — still flitting —
Then like a timid Man
Again, He tapped — 'twas flurriedly —
And I became alone —
Source: Wikisource
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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 — …
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A charm invests a face
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The lady dare not lift her veil …
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There came a Wind like a Bugle —
It quivered through the Grass
And a Green Chill upon the Heat …
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