Emily Dickinson

Struck, Was I, Not Yet By Lightning

poem 925

Struck, was I, not yet by Lightning Lightning lets away Power to perceive His Process With Vitality. Maimed was I yet not by Venture Stone of stolid Boy Nor a Sportsman’s Peradventure Who mine Enemy? Robbed was I intact to Bandit All my Mansion torn Sun withdrawn to Recognition Furthest shining done Yet was not the foe of any Not the smallest Bird In the nearest Orchard dwelling Be of Me afraid. Most I love the Cause that slew Me. Often as I die Its beloved Recognition Holds a Sun on Me Best at Setting as is Nature’s Neither witnessed Rise Till the infinite Aurora In the other’s eyes.

Don't have an account?

You will be identified by the alias - name will be hidden
user