Afraid! Of whom am I afraid?
Not Death — for who is He?
The Porter of my Father’s Lodge
As much abasheth me!
Of Life? ‘Twere odd I fear [a] thing
That comprehendeth me
In one or two existences —
As Deity decree —
Of Resurrection? Is the East
Afraid to trust the Morn
With her fastidious forehead?
As soon impeach my Crown!
Do you have any comments, criticism, paraphrasis or analysis of this poem that you feel would assist other visitors in understanding the meaning or the theme of this poem by Emily Dickinson better? If accepted, your analysis will be added to this page of American Poems. Together we can build a wealth of information, but it will take some discipline and determination.
I would never imagine a person, secluded and auto-exiled from life to write such an alive poem. It has the very essence of life in it-strength, something many people lack. I feel it could be the firm base for modern, confused and scared societies to step on.