A daily poem from the complete works of Emily Dickinson.
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A House upon the Height –
That Wagon never reached –
No Dead, were ever carried down –
No Peddler’s Cart — approached –
Whose Chimney never smoked –
Whose Windows — Night and Morn –
Caught Sunrise first — and Sunset — last –
Then — held an Empty Pane –
Whose fate — Conjecture knew –
No other neighbor — did –
And what it was — we never lisped –
Because He — never told –
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Before I got my eye put out
I liked as well to see –
As other Creatures, that have Eyes
And know no other way –
But were it told to me — Today –
That I might have the sky
For mine — I tell you that my Heart
Would split, for size of me –
The Meadows — mine –
The Mountains — mine –
All Forests — Stintless Stars –
As much of Noon as I could take
Between my finite eyes –
The Motions of the Dipping Birds –
The Morning’s Amber Road –
For mine — to look at when I liked –
The News would strike me dead –
So safer — guess — with just my soul
Upon the Window pane –
Where other Creatures put their eyes –
Incautious — of the Sun –
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The Sun kept stooping — stooping — low!
The Hills to meet him rose!
On his side, what Transaction!
On their side, what Repose!
Deeper and deeper grew the stain
Upon the window pane –
Thicker and thicker stood the feet
Until the Tyrian
Was crowded dense with Armies –
So gay, so Brigadier –
That I felt martial stirrings
Who once the Cockade wore –
Charged from my chimney corner –
But Nobody was there!
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