Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
635 I think the longest Hour of all Is when the Cars have come— And we are waiting for the Coach— It seems as though the Time Indignant—that the Joy was come— Did block the Gilded Hands— And would not let the Seconds by— But slowest instant—ends— The Pendulum begins to count— Like little Scholars—loud— The steps grow thicker—in the Hall— The Heart begins to crowd— Then I—my timid service done— Tho' service 'twas, of Love— Take up my little Violin— And further North—remove.
Added: 9 Sep 2001 | Last Read: 30 Aug 2008 8:50 AM | Viewed: 5243 times
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Emily Dickinson
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