Poetry Archives

A continuing selection of classic and contemporary poems.

Emily Dickinson

1347

Escape is such a thankful Word
I often in the Night
Consider it unto myself
No spectacle in sight

Escape—it is the Basket
In which the Heart is caught
When down some awful Battlement
The rest of Life is dropt—

’Tis not to sight the savior—
It is to be the saved—
And that is why I lay my Head
Upon this trusty word—

Online text © 1998-2009 Poetry X. All rights reserved.
From The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson | Written c. 1875

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