by Emily Dickinson
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American Literature – American Poetry – Emily Dickinson
< < < Eternity
Except the heaven had come so near > > >
Evening
The cricket sang,
And set the sun,
And workmen finished, one by one,
Their seam the day upon.
The low grass loaded with the dew,
The twilight stood as strangers do
With hat in hand, polite and new,
To stay as if, or go.
A vastness, as a neighbor, came, —
A wisdom without face or name,
A peace, as hemispheres at home, —
And so the night became.
< < < Eternity
Except the heaven had come so near > > >
American Literature – American Poetry – Emily Dickinson
Copyright holders – Public Domain
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