Читать книгу The Complete Poetry of Emily Dickinson - Эмили Дикинсон - Страница 108

Table of Contents

Afraid? Of whom am I afraid?

Not death; for who is he?

The porter of my father's lodge

As much abasheth me.

Of life? 'T were odd I fear a thing

That comprehendeth me

In one or more existences

At Deity's decree.

Of resurrection? Is the east

Afraid to trust the morn

With her fastidious forehead?

As soon impeach my crown!