Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Refuge

The clouds their backs together laid,
The north begun to push,
The forests galloped till they fell,
The lightning skipped like mice;
The thunder crumbled like a stuff --
How good to be safe in tombs,
Where nature's temper cannot reach,
Nor vengeance ever comes!

1. A Poor Torn Heart, a Tattered Heart
2. Too Much
3. The Show
4. Delight Becomes Pictorial
5. A Thought Went up My Mind To-day

William Winter Refuge ("Set your face to the sea, fond lover")

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