Emily Dickinson

I’Ve Known A Heaven, Like A Tent

poem 243

I’ve known a Heaven, like a Tent To wrap its shining Yards Pluck up its stakes, and disappear Without the sound of Boards Or Rip of Nail Or Carpenter But just the miles of Stare That signalize a Show’s Retreat In North America No Trace no Figment of the Thing That dazzled, Yesterday, No Ring no Marvel Men, and Feats Dissolved as utterly As Bird’s far Navigation Discloses just a Hue A plash of Oars, a Gaiety Then swallowed up, of View.

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