Emily Dickinson Poems

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There came a wind like a bugle
It quivered through the GRASS,
And a green chill upon the heat

So ominous did pass
We barred the windows and the doors
As from an emerald GHOST
The doom's electric moccasin
That very instant passed.

On a strange mob of panting trees,
And fences fled away, and rivers where
The houses ran the living looked that day (THAT DAY).
The bell within the steeple wild
The flying tidings whirled.
How much can come
And much can go,
And yet abide the world!

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