'Tis so appalling -- it exhilarates --
So over Horror, it half Captivates --
The Soul stares after it, secure --
A Sepulchre, fears frost, no more --

To scan a Ghost, is faint --
But grappling, conquers it --
How easy, Torment, now --
Suspense kept sawing so --

The Truth, is Bald, and Cold --
But that will hold --
If any are not sure --
We show them -- prayer --
But we, who know,
Stop hoping, now --

Looking at Death, is Dying --
Just let go the Breath --
And not the pillow at your Cheek
So Slumbereth --

Others, Can wrestle --
Yours, is done --
And so of Woe, bleak dreaded -- come,
It sets the Fright at liberty --
And Terror's free --
Gay, Ghastly, Holiday!

Added: Jan 9 2004 | Viewed: 2345 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Emily Dickinson (Emily Dickinson Art)
Poem: 281. 'Tis so appalling -- it exhilarates
Volume: Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
Year: Published/Written in 1955
Poem of the Day: Jan 13 2009
There are no comments for this poem. Why not be the first one to post something about it?

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, 'Tis so appalling -- it exhilarates, has not yet been commented on. You can click here to be the first to post a comment about it. Of course you can also always discuss poems by Emily Dickinson with others on the American Poems poetry forum!