large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_4_dickinson_64kb_39
large/7245/poems_seriestwo_la_librivox_64kb_mp3/poemsseriestwo_4_dickinson_64kb
English
7245
I 'm glad I don't believe it, For it would stop my breath, And I 'd like to look a little more At such a curious earth! I am glad they did believe it Whom I have never found Since the mighty autumn afternoon I left them in the ground. I'M GLAD I DON'T BELIEVE IT FOR IT WOULD STOP MY BREATH AND I'D LIKE TO LOOK A LITTLE MORE AT SUCH A CURIOUS EARTH I'M GLAD THEY DID BELIEVE IT WHOM I HAVE NEVER FOUND SINCE THE MIGHTY AUTUMN AFTERNOON I LEFT THEM IN THE GROUND
us frown was nutriment To their temerity. The pillow of this daring head Is pungent evergreens; His larder -- terse and militant -- Unknown, refreshing things; His character a tonic, His future a dispute; Unfair an immortality That leaves this neighbor out. IV. TIME AND ETERNITY. I. Let down the bars, O Death! The tired flocks come in Whose bleating ceases to repeat, Whose wandering is done. Thine is the stillest night, Thine the securest fold; Too near thou art for seeking thee, Too tender to be told. II. Going to heaven! I don't know when, Pray do not ask me how, -- Indeed, I 'm too astonished To think of answering you! Going to heaven! -- How dim it sounds! And yet it will be done As sure as flocks go home at night Unto the shepherd's arm! Perhaps you 're going too! Who knows? If you should get there first, Save just a little place for me Close to the two I lost! The smallest "robe" will fit me, And just a bit of "crown;" For you know we do not mind our dress When we are going home.  CHAPTER FOUR OF POEMS SERIES TWO BY EMILY DICKINSON THIS LIBER BOX RECORDING IS IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN FOUR TIME AND ETERNITY ONE LET DOWN THE BARS O DEATH THE TIRED FLOCKS COME IN WHOSE BLEEDING CEASES TO REPEAT WHOSE WANDERING IS DONE THINE IS THE STILLEST NIGHT THINE THE SECUREST FOLD TOO NEAR THOU ART FOR SEEKING THEE TOO TENDER TO BE TOLD TWO GOING TO HEAVEN I DON'T KNOW WHEN PRAY DO NOT ASK ME HOW INDEED I'M TOO ASTONISHED TO THINK OF ANSWERING YOU GOING TO HEAVEN HOW DIM IT SOUNDS AND YET IT WILL BE DONE AS SURE AS FLOCKS GO HOME AT NIGHT UNTO THE SHEPHERD'S ARM PERHAPS YOU'RE GOING TOO WHO KNOWS IF YOU SHOULD GET THERE FIRST SAVE JUST A LITTLE PLACE FOR ME CLOSE TO THE TWO I LOST THE SMALLEST ROBE WILL FIT ME AND JUST A BIT OF CROWN FOR YOU KNOW WE DO NOT MIND OUR DRESS WHEN WE ARE GOING HOME
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