Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
271 A solemn thing—it was—I said— A woman—white—to be— And wear—if God should count me fit— Her blameless mystery— A hallowed thing—to drop a life Into the purple well— Too plummetless—that it return— Eternity—until— I pondered how the bliss would look— And would it feel as big— When I could take it in my hand— As hovering—seen—through fog— And then—the size of this "small" life— The Sages—call it small— Swelled—like Horizons—in my vest— And I sneered—softly—"small"!
Added: 19 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 2 Dec 2008 7:58 PM | Viewed: 5467 times
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Emily Dickinson
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