Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

* * *

I went to heaven, --
'T was a small town,
Lit with a ruby,
Lathed with down.
Stiller than the fields
At the full dew,
Beautiful as pictures
No man drew.
People like the moth,
Of mechlin, frames,
Duties of gossamer,
And eider names.
Almost contented
I could be
'Mong such unique
Society.

1. There Is a Shame of Nobleness
2. Till the End
3. The Battle-Field
4. Some, Too Fragile for Winter Winds
5. Their Height in Heaven Comforts Not

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