Emily Dickinson Poems

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Many a phrase has the English language --
I have heard but one --
Low as the laughter of the Cricket,
Loud, as the Thunder's Tongue --

Murmuring, like old Caspian Choirs,
When the Tide's a' lull --
Saying itself in new inflection --
Like a Whippoorwill --

Breaking in bright Orthography
On my simple sleep --
Thundering its Prospective --
Till I stir, and weep --

Not for the Sorrow, done me --
But the push of Joy --
Say it again, Saxton!
Hush -- Only to me!

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