Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
1347 Escape is such a thankful Word I often in the Night Consider it unto myself No spectacle in sight Escape—it is the Basket In which the Heart is caught When down some awful Battlement The rest of Life is dropt— 'Tis not to sight the savior— It is to be the saved— And that is why I lay my Head Upon this trusty word— Edited by Peter Carter
Added: 2 Apr 2003 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 5:51 PM | Viewed: 8538 times
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