Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
784 Bereaved of all, I went abroad— No less bereaved was I Upon a New Peninsula— The Grave preceded me— Obtained my Lodgings, ere myself— And when I sought my Bed— The Grave it was reposed upon The Pillow for my Head— I waked to find it first awake— I rose—It followed me— I tried to drop it in the Crowd— To lose it in the Sea— In Cups of artificial Drowse To steep its shape away— The Grave—was finished—but the Spade Remained in Memory—
Added: 30 Sep 2002 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 5:11 PM | Viewed: 8671 times
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Emily Dickinson
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