by Emily Dickinson
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American Literature – American Poetry – Emily Dickinson
< < < I many times thought peace had come
I never lost as much but twice > > >
I meant to find her when I came
I meant to find her when I came;
Death had the same design;
But the success was his, it seems,
And the discomfit mine.
I meant to tell her how I longed
For just this single time;
But Death had told her so the first,
And she had hearkened him.
To wander now is my abode;
To rest, — to rest would be
A privilege of hurricane
To memory and me.
< < < I many times thought peace had come
I never lost as much but twice > > >
American Literature – American Poetry – Emily Dickinson
Copyright holders – Public Domain
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