Emily Dickinson

I Think The Longest Hour Of All

poem 635

I think the longest Hour of all Is when the Cars have come And we are waiting for the Coach It seems as though the Time Indignant that the Joy was come Did block the Gilded Hands And would not let the Seconds by But slowest instant ends The Pendulum begins to count Like little Scholars loud The steps grow thicker in the Hall The Heart begins to crowd Then I my timid service done Tho’ service ’twas, of Love Take up my little Violin And further North remove.

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