Its Hour with itself
The Spirit never shows.
What Terror would enthrall the Street
Could Countenance disclose

The Subterranean Freight
The Cellars of the Soul --
Thank God the loudest Place he made
Is license to be still.

Added: Jan 9 2004 | Viewed: 1114 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Emily Dickinson
Poem: 1225. Its Hour with itself
Volume: Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
Year: Published/Written in 1955
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