Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924. |
Part Four: Time and Eternity
CXII
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| I FELT a funeral in my brain, | |
| And mourners, to and fro, | |
| Kept treading, treading, till it seemed | |
| That sense was breaking through. | |
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| And when they all were seated, | 5 |
| A service like a drum | |
| Kept beating, beating, till I thought | |
| My mind was going numb. | |
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| And then I heard them lift a box, | |
| And creak across my soul | 10 |
| With those same boots of lead, again. | |
| Then space began to toll | |
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| As all the heavens were a bell, | |
| And Being but an ear, | |
| And I and silence some strange race, | 15 |
| Wrecked, solitary, here. | |
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