I went to thank Her —
But She Slept —
Her Bed — a funneled Stone —
With Nosegays at the Head and Foot —
That Travellers — had thrown —
Who went to thank Her —
But She Slept —
‘Twas Short — to cross the Sea —
To look upon Her like — alive —
But turning back — ’twas slow —
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.
Dead loved ones are unique and irreplaceable.