Poetry Archives

A continuing selection of classic and contemporary poems.

Emily Dickinson

708

I sometimes drop it, for a Quick—
The Thought to be alive—
Anonymous Delight to know—
And Madder—to conceive—

Consoles a Woe so monstrous
That did it tear all Day,
Without an instant’s Respite—
’Twould look too far—to Die—

Online text © 1998-2008 Poetry X. All rights reserved.
From The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson | Written c. 1863

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