POEMS OF EMILY DICKINSON
CIII
FROM all the jails the boys and girls Ecstatically leap,—Beloved, only afternoon That prison does n’t keep.
They storm the earth and stun the air, A mob of solid bliss.Alas! that frowns could lie in wait For such a foe as this!
CIV
FEW get enough,— enough is one; To that ethereal throngHave not each one of us the right To stealthily belong?
CV
UPON the gallows hung a wretch, Too sullied for the hellTo which the law entitled him. As nature’s curtain fellThe one who bore him tottered in, For this was woman’s son.“’T was all I had,” she stricken gasped; Oh, what a livid boon!
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