Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
1437 A Dew sufficed itself— And satisfied a Leaf And felt "how vast a destiny"— "How trivial is Life!" The Sun went out to work— The Day went out to play And not again that Dew be seen By Physiognomy Whether by Day Abducted Or emptied by the Sun Into the Sea in passing Eternally unknown Attested to this Day That awful Tragedy By Transport's instability And Doom's celerity. Edited by Peter Carter
Added: 2 Apr 2003 | Last Read: 18 Jun 2013 9:23 PM | Viewed: 6850 times