< Page:Emily Dickinson Poems - second series (1891).djvu
This page needs to be proofread.
POEMS,
When everything that ticked has stopped, And space stares, all around, Or grisly frosts, first autumn morns, Repeal the beating ground.
But most like chaos, stopless, cool, Without a chance or spar, Or even a report of land To justify despair.
��223
�� �
This article is issued from
Wikisource.
The text is licensed under Creative
Commons - Attribution - Sharealike.
Additional terms may apply for the media files.