Emily Dickinson Poems

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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Sun -- withdrawn to Recognition --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.

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