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   Chapter 75 No.75

Poems by Emily Dickinson, Three Series, Complete By Emily Dickinson Characters: 481

Updated: 2017-12-01 00:03


There's a certain slant of light,

On winter afternoons,

That oppresses, like the weight

Of cathedral tunes.

Heavenly hurt it gives us;

We can find no scar,

But internal difference

Where the meanings are.

None may tea

ch it anything,

' T is the seal, despair, -

An imperial affliction

Sent us of the air.

When it comes, the landscape listens,

Shadows hold their breath;

When it goes, 't is like the distance

On the look of death.

* * *

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