Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Deed

A deed knocks first at thought,
And then it knocks at will.
That is the manufacturing spot,
And will at home and well.

It then goes out an act,
Or is entombed so still
That only to the ear of God
Its doom is audible.

1. On the Tleakness of My Lot
2. Possession
3. The Moon Is Distant from the Sea
4. Triumph
5. Going

Print

1691 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version