II. LOVE - VIII. AT HOME

II. LOVE: VIII. AT HOME

The night was wide, and furnished scant
With but a single star,
That often as a cloud it met
Blew out itself for fear.

The wind pursued the little bush,
And drove away the leaves
November left; then clambered up
And fretted in the eaves.

No squirrel went abroad;
A dog's belated feet
Like intermittent plush were heard
Adown the empty street.

To feel if blinds be fast,
And closer to the fire
Her little rocking-chair to draw,
And shiver for the poor,

The housewife's gentle task.
"How pleasanter," said she
Unto the sofa opposite,
"The sleet than May -- no thee!"

Content of LOVE: VIII. AT HOME [Emily Dickinson's poems collection: Second Series [Series 2]]

Read next: II. LOVE#IX. POSSESSION

Read previous: II. LOVE#VII. Wild nights! Wild nights!

Table of content of Second Series [Series 2]



GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book