I think to Live — may be a Bliss
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| ←Bereavement in their death to feel (645) | I think to Live — may be a Bliss by 646 |
(647) A little Road — not made of Man —→ |
I think to Live — may be a Bliss
To those who dare to try —
Beyond my limit to conceive —
My lip — to testify —
I think the Heart I former wore
Could widen — till to me
The Other, like the little Bank
Appear — unto the Sea —
I think the Days — could every one
In Ordination stand —
And Majesty — be easier —
Than an inferior kind —
No numb alarm — lest Difference come —
No Goblin — on the Bloom —
No start in Apprehension's Ear,
No Bankruptcy — no Doom —
But Certainties of Sun —
Midsummer — in the Mind —
A steadfast South — upon the Soul —
Her Polar time — behind —
The Vision — pondered long —
So plausible becomes
That I esteem the fiction — real —
The Real — fictitious seems —
How bountiful the Dream —
What Plenty — it would be —
Had all my Life but been Mistake
Just rectified — in Thee
| Poetry by Emily Dickinson (edit list): | |
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